Self-isolation further fostered my need to make things with my own two hands.
I'm lucky to have the flexibility to work from home, and stay safely secluded with my family, but isolation and screens wear on you.
Zines give me an opportunity to extend my imagination beyond the four walls. While my hands are busy cutting, gluing, and arranging bits of magazine scraps, my mind wanders far away from the coronavirus and the change it forced onto all of us.
For my first zine, I took a very lackluster approach. I didn't plan its flow or content. I opened an old edition of the Economist and picked visuals that struck me, and stuck with me. I first built the last page, then the first, and then had to find the way to connect them through the middle.
What came out of the process, was a gloomy story of a man who is different, and disliked for it.
Zine-ing like there's no tomorrow. It's a great way to upcycle some old editions of @TheEconomist. Thanks @austinkleon for the inspiration! #stayhomemakezines pic.twitter.com/d4fRm2mX7v— Gavrilova (@marijagavrilovv) March 22, 2020
There was more of an intention behind my second zine. I had a cut-out of a fish, or a screaming girl, and some building roofs. I put those together. Then I went looking for a poem to inspire the rest. I went for Yoko Ono's book Grapefruit, because she'd surely have something strange enough to follow the story of a girl flying on a fish. And she does indeed.
A floating city
The second level world
Upstairs on the clouds
Mountains and rain roaring underneath
Like venice, we have to commute by
boats through air currents to visit
eachothers floating houses.
Cloud gardens to watch all day
A floating city— Gavrilova (@marijagavrilovv) March 28, 2020
The second level world
Upstairs on the clouds
Mountains and rain roaring underneath
Like venice, we have to commute by
boats through air currents to visit
eachothers floating houses.
Cloud gardens to watch all day @yokoono #stayhomemakezines pic.twitter.com/tcI6nQGX0b
No comments:
Post a Comment