Ziney goodness

I’ve read lots of good zines lately. So, while I listen to the Raincoats through the tiny, tinny speakers of my new portable computer (I feel just like Penny in Inspector Gadget! I’m from the future!) let me show you some of them. I don’t want to write too much, so just believe me when I say that they’re all great and you should write to their creators immediately to obtain copies.

Fergus #15, P O Box 132, Bentley WA 6982. FREE – but send a stamp or something.

Fergus’ alphabetised zine mostly concerns her home suburb of East Victoria Park in Perth. It’s small but wordy and features at least one swear word or reference to teenage recalcitrance per page, which I approve of.

Ampersand after Ampersand, tiny paper hearts

Tiny Paper Hearts are zine making machines and this one by Amanda is very pretty, contains more home town musings and references Curly Wurlys on the first page, which I approve of.

Your Pretty Face is Going Straight to Hell #2, available from Paper Trail Distro

I’ve read three issues of this zine now, but this is still my favourite, about Tukru’s extended job and house search. Also features Moomins, which, you guessed it, I approve of.

D90 #2, email spurzine at gmail dot com for address

Excellent. I got this today, along with issue one. This zine is about mix tapes and has a fluorescent pink cover featuring a photocopy of a tape, which fulfils all of the criteria for an excellent zine, in my opinion. It’s a great read as well.

So, thanks everyone who’s traded zines and stuff with me over the last few weeks. My letter box has been very busy. Please keep sending me stuff and make my walk up the hill to Enmore Rd something other than an excuse to buy coffee.

Fairytales in the Supermarket

That’s the name of my new zine, which is a bit different from my other zines. My usual approach to zine making is to sort of channel whatever I’ve been up to at the time into barely legible typewritten/collaged madness (but really! my zines are good and you should buy them), but this one actually has a point and that point is to bitch about the assorted shitty jobs that I’ve had. I stole the idea from here, with apologies. It was also inspired by Fergus’ alphabetical zines, which I will write about later, when I figure out what I’ve done with the address and so on. As usual you can read further details about Fairytales in the Supermarket somewhere over on the right hand side there. Ta-ra!

EDIT – In case you weren’t entirely convinced that it’s worth getting a copy of this zine, here’s what a reviewer for the Sticky Institute’s Sporadic Monthly Newsletter had to say about it:

Initially I was hesitant about the quality of this zine, given that it has a light pink cover and after reading Vintageland, I was ready to do away with all my pink-coloured possessions. But I was horribly wrong. This zine is amazing. Written after the author has received funding for her masters and thus, does not have to work anymore, she sets about reflecting on her decade spent in the retail industry, alphabetical style. Type written, it goes through the alphabet, from such topics as Annoying Friends, Late For Work and Why Work In A Shop Then, You Ninny? It’s a hilariously honest and at times, sort of depressing reflection on what it is like to work at Woolworths, a sock shop and a card store. Scattered throughout the zine are cut out pictures from catalogues, some with funny captions by the author, but it’s the tone of the writing that makes this zine amazing. For anyone who has any experience working in the retail industry, you have to read this zine.

Mmm. I hadn’t thought that people would be put off by the pink over. Are you? The whole cut up vintage advertisement thing was meant to be a piss take, but I suppose that’s not apparent until you open the cover. That’s why you have to open the cover! And to do that you must write to me and get a copy of the zine! If you still aren’t convinced I might post some of it up here for you to read, but not all of it, because then you’ll just read it here and won’t send me stuff in return for it. AND I WANT YOU TO SEND ME STUFF, DAMMIT. Oh, and incidentally, if you’re concerned about actually having to send money to get a copy of this thing, or any of my other zines, do not despair. I will happily, in fact preferably, trade it for other things, whether zines or something else. I understand that’s there’s been a bit of concern lately regarding the overpricing of zines, so, don’t whinge to me about it, okay? I’ve got it sorted. Look at the How To Order section for more information.

Upcoming zine exhibition in Sydney

Ooo, this looks exciting. How I admire people who are talented and motivated enough to organise things like this. Susy Pow! of Bird in the Hand zine distro is organising an exhibition in an as yet unconfirmed location in Sydney, in March, featuring pages and excerpts from zines by as yet undisclosed zinemakers. You can read the call out on the Bird in the Hand blog and I’m sure Susy’ll post updates there as well.

She’s got legs

In March I’m commencing a masters degree, and in anticipation of how crazy that’s gonna be I’ve reduced my daily activities to working and sitting on the couch: sometimes to listen to records, more often to watch an incredibly long, old ABC serialisation of a book by Frank Hardy called Power Without Glory. The adaptation runs for something like 26 hours, and all of the female characters end up alone, dying or dead. By the end of it I felt a bit like them. That’s why there haven’t been any pictures or anything here in a while.

Last week I tried to post these pictures but was distracted by something tickling my right foot. This puzzled me, seated as I was in my front room, which is entirely furnished with objects unendowed with the ability to tickle. Of course it was a cockroach. The size of a fucking mouse. Legs like Daryl Hannah (but more or them). It was a monster. It was, to employ a favourite turn of phrase from Gai, a woman I work with, almost big enough to go to school. I’ve only now found the courage to re-enter the room.

These pictures are the start of a project I’m thinking about and that I’ll elaborate on soon. What I’m thinking at the moment is quite complex, but as I’m working solo, and therefore solely with my own brain, we can expect that the going will be slow (you know that episode of the Simpsons where the old guy in a rocking chair whacks a big, failing machine with his walking stick and says “C’mon, Emma!”? That’s how my brain works. Similar to the way Shirley MacLaine gets her donkey to move in that Clint Eastwood film. You know. The one with Shirley MacLaine and the donkey).

I don’t have a very good image editing program, so forgive the dodgy stitching. If anyone wants to send me a PC compatible copy of Photoshop, please feel free. And thanks to people for sending me zines and mail over the past couple of months. I will make a zine for the new year soon and I hope that it will not be crap and that no more toddler sized cockroaches crawl on my feet or on any other part of me.

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Augh! Why won’t this stupid blog program let me put a bigger gap between the images? Forcing me to add this needless typing. Because it is stupid, I say! And also very, very slow! I thought this was supposed to be easier than scissors and glue, damn it. There’s more, but I give up. You get the gist.

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Walking in the rain

Raining in my room

Another made-on-a-rainy-day zine.

Available for trade or a stamp in the post.

This Is Not Art

I managed to get a new zine done in time to take to the This Is Not Art zine fair, which was on Sunday. Here are some pictures of it:

In fact, this zine is mostly pictures. All of the information about ordering, price, a description et cetera can be found under the ‘Zines for Sale’ heading on the main page. And you’ll probably be able to pick up a copy from Sticky if you’re in Melbourne.

While I don’t want to bore you to tears, here’s my wrap up of This Is Not Art, starting from yesterday and working backwards.

We arrived home at about 7 o’clock pm. I was listening to Rand and Holland on my portable listening device and felt excited when I began recognising Sydney landmarks. I miss home so easily. I thought about a panel I’d attended at TINA the day previous, where people discussed staying in the place that they grew up in. It occurred to me that of nearly everyone I know (with a few exceptions) I am the only one truly native to Sydney. Lost in this thought - I am from Sydney - I remembered that I had a Kit Kat in my bag, which I then ate.

Earlier, I waved goodbye to Lou, who was minding the Mutiny stall, and Tim and I left the zine fair (which was fine, and thank you to everyone who bought or traded their zine with us) to lie on the grass near the water and wait for the Sydney train to arrive. A few minutes before the train was due I investigated the Little Shop at the station and purchased a Kit Kat and a Milky Way. I ate the Milky Way immediately, thinking the thought that invariably grips me when I eat a Milky Way: why aren’t they bigger?

That morning I spent a good deal of time cursing daylight savings while preparing to check out of the hotel and set up for the zine fair. The night before I had resisted my usual granniness to stay out for the second show at the Cambridge. Was that really me, awake on the other side of midnight? And was I really standing in front of the speaker while Cotti played his set? And did I really dance? I have blisters on my heels, and am tired and half deafened, so I must have.

That day, and the one previous, had been spent walking between the various venues holding panels and exhibitions, such as the one mentioned earlier (later?), and another with Hidden Village, who gave a demonstration of their excellent chip music (which is, from what I gather, music made by manipulating the sound chips of various soon to be antique video game consoles. Am I dumb for never having heard of this before? And if you knew, why didn’t you tell me?). And I should note the Tape Projects exhibition at the TAFE gallery, which I unfortunately can’t find any images of. Locked grooves and cardboard and flip books on strings, these are a few of my favourite things!

All the while Tim took lovely photos, some of which are posted here.

Here ends my TINA 2008 wrap up.

*now you will buy my zine*

Ba – umf

Marie Osmond performing Karawane

Made in Marrickville

The drawings in the previous post will be exhibited from the 4th of September at At The Vanishing Point gallery (565 King St, Newtown) as part of the Marrickville Contemporary Art Prize.

Arc of a journey