The deer in the field
were startled
by the first shot,
were you?
You in your pews
a thousand feet away
there
praying for sins
praying for life
while
gun club gunshots
rang in the holy morning,
frightened the deer
and the bobolink.
Or you, while
the tactical defense cleric
in police surplice
preached a safety sermon
to the congregation
there
from the sacred pulpit:
carry your faith
defend from evil
shoot to kill
all lives matter…
amen.
Hush Hush
the red cardinal whispers
to the wind and to time
the needs of the many outweigh
the needs of the few or the one
As he and his mate lean into each other
brace against the man-made cold
its air that breaks hope and bones
Hush Hush
In the spring, love, the babes arrive,
and we’ll sing and dance unending
But he knows the storms to come
the wicked winds, the end of time
and we’ll see in them, those babes,
a thousand more…we’ll fly
in crystal skies anew
Poem ©2022, Jen Payne. For more poems like this, read Evidence of Flossing: What We Leave Behind.
This special “quarantine zine” features the words and images and thoughts within which we found REFUGE last year. The literal and figurative reflections, the comforting quotes and laugh-out-loud memes that kept us breathing all those long months, and helped us regain our sea legs when it seemed like the worst was behind us. Includes a full color, 36-page booklet, fun inserts, a curated Spotify playlist, and more! Cost: $6.00.
The Annual Subscription rate of $20 includes four issues of MANIFEST (zine), and starts with the September issue REFUGE: A Quarantine Zine.
Part lit mag, part artist book, part chapbook, MANIFEST (zine) is the eclectic creation of writer / poet / artist Jen Payne. Consider it a hold-in-your-hands art installation featuring writing, photography, and artwork, along with bits and pieces of whatnot that rise to the surface as she meditates on themes like change and transition, solitude, time, storytelling, and finding refuge in these turbulent times. Each issue also includes a curated Spotify playlist. Layered with colors, textures, meanings (and music), the result is a thought-full, tactile journey with nooks and crannies for you to discover along the way.
You can pay through PayPal using a PayPal account or any standard credit card. If you prefer the old school approach, please send your check, made payable to Jen Payne, P.O. Box 453, Branford, CT 06405.
Back in the early 90s, I created a newsletter called The Latest News as a way to keep in touch with college friends and family. It had essays, quotes, photos, bits and pieces of personal news.
I didn’t know it was a “zine” until I read about the zine phenomenon and learned about Mike Gunderloy who reviewed and cataloged thousands of zines in his publication Factsheet Five. I sent him a copy of The Latest News and he reviewed it, and the next thing I knew — BAM! More than 350 people had subscribed and were reading my little 4-page, photocopied newsletter zine!
And then more BAM! The New York Times interviewed me about zines. And Tom Trusky, a professor at Boise State University invited me to be part of a zine exhibit called Some Zines: American Alternative & Underground Magazines, Newsletters & APAs. And later, The Latest News was featured in several retrospective books about the zine phenomenon: Notes from Underground: Zines and the Politics of Alternative Culture and The World of Zines: A Guide to the Independent Magazine Revolution.
Flash forward…I hate to say this, OMG…30 years, and BAM! MANIFEST (zine) showed up on my creative radar.
It’s been 12 months since I launched this new project, and I can’t tell you how amazed I am at the response. Folks from all over the planet have read about Divine Intervention and Cat Lady Confessions, they’ve discovered It’s About Time and what one does about Crickets. And they’ve been enthusiastic and supportive about what comes next.
I don’t know what comes next…or should I say which idea comes next, because I have a bunch! I hope you’ll stick around for the adventure.
CURIOUS? SEE ALSO:
Did you know that each issue of MANIFEST (zine) includes a Spotify playlist especially curated for readers? For the CRICKETS issue, I had fun playing off the themes of silence, finding one’s voice, and creating from the heart. It features an eclectic set of songs by artists like Disturbed, Grace Carter, Barry Manilow, John Mayer, Natasha Bedingfield, and Brandi Carlile. Take a listen now!
MANIFEST ZINE
Issue #4, Crickets
by Jen Payne
Storytelling is in our DNA says Brené Brown in her book Rising Strong. We share our stories because “we feel most alive when we’re connecting with others and being brave with our stories.” That process, she explains, causes our brains to release cortisol and oxytocin, the chemicals that “trigger the uniquely human ability to connect, empathize, and make meaning.” So we write. And we create. No matter who listens or responds. Crickets be damned.
MANIFEST (zine): Crickets is a riff and a rant about the consequences of creative bravery. It’s a 24-page, full color booklet that includes a curated Spotify playlist for your listening pleasure.
INGREDIENTS: appropriation art, black-out poetry, collaged elements, color copies, colored markers, ephemera, hand-drawn fonts, ink jet copies, laser prints, vintage illustrations, watercolor paints, and “11 Cute Facts About Crickets.”
With THANKS to to the British Library Digital Library, Brené Brown, Leonard Cohen, Carlo Collodi, Francis Crick, Charles Dickens, Mary Elizabeth Mapes Dodge, Natalie Goldberg, Charles d. Orbigny, Pinocchio, George Selden, the Trustees of the British Museum, James Watson, and Margaret J. Wheatley.
Issue #4, Crickets
24-page, full-color 4.25 x 5.5, Cost: $6.00
BUY NOW or SUBSCRIBE and get 4 issues for just $20!
If you are a dreamer, come in,
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer…
If you’re a pretender, come sit by my fire
For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
Come in!
come in!
— Shel Silverstein
Indeed, if you are a dreamer, a wisher, a magic bean buyer…then you must visit THE SHOP at Guilford Art Center. It’s truly one of the most unique shopping destinations, offering a selection of contemporary American crafts and jewelry handmade by local artists and others from across the country. You’ll find works in glass, metal, ceramics, wood, fiber, paper, toys and much more.
Much more…like copies of MANIFEST (zine)!
I’m excited to say that MANIFEST (zine) can now be purchased at THE SHOP at Guilford Art Center, along with copies of my books and postcards. Check it out!
THE SHOP at
Guilford Art Center
411 Church Street
Guilford, CT 06437
www.guilfordartcenter.org
HOURS
Wednesday 12 – 4pm
Thursday 12 – 4pm
Friday 12 – 4pm
Saturday 10am – 4pm
PLUS, if you stop by this coming weekend — July 10 — you’ll get to peruse one of the Art Center’s Summer Artisan Pop-Up Events!
When I published my first book, LOOK UP! Musings on the Nature of Mindfulness, I imagined a complementary art installation: framed photos from the book, poems printed large and hung like tapestries, a CD of woodland sounds in the background.
I had other ideas, too. (I still do.)
A show at New Haven’s Kehler Liddell Gallery (2017) came close. “Random Acts of Writing: Common Ground” — featuring three of my poems and one photograph — was included in INAUGURATION NATION, an open forum exhibit that responded to the political and social climate of the time.
That same year, large framed photos from my second book, Evidence of Flossing: What We Leave Behind, were featured in the exhibit WHERE THE WHOLE UNIVERSE DWELLS at Perspectives, The Gallery at Whitney Center.
You might recognize the theme of my very first art installation effort. Random Acts of Writing: Pushing Time was included in the SHUFFLE & SHAKE exhibit at the Arts Council of Greater New Haven’s Sumner McKnight Crosby Jr. Gallery in 2016. Its three poems and wall clock all appear in MANIFEST (zine): It’s About Time.
You see, it turns out, a lot of my “other ideas” fit neatly into the format that is a zine. Zines, as explained on the Wikipedia page dedicated to this phenomenon, “cover broad topics including fanfiction, politics, poetry, art & design, ephemera, personal journals, social theory, intersectional feminism, single-topic obsession” and more. They have such cultural relevance, there are dedicated zine archives/libraries at Barnard College, the University of Iowa, Duke University, the Tate Museum, the British Library, Harvard University, and at the Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library at Yale University.
So many publications, so many topics, so many ideas! Check it out yourself and stay tuned!
LET’S START WITH: WHAT IS A ZINE?
According to Wikipedia, a zine — pronounced zeen — is a small circulation, self-published work of original or appropriated texts and images, usually reproduced via photocopier. It has no defined shape or size, and may contain anything from poetry, prose, and essays, to comics, art, or photography.
A zine is a multi-purposed publication form that has deep roots in political, punk, feminist, artistic, and other subculture communities. Original zinesters are rumored to include Thomas Paine, Ben Franklin, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Margaret Fuller.
• Check out this great page about zines: What is a Zine?
• Read: “A Brief History of Zines” at Mental Floss
• Visit the Barnard College Zine Library
• From Buzzfeed News: “How Zine Libraries Are Highlighting Marginalized Voices”
SO THEN, WHAT IS MANIFEST (zine) ?
Let’s consider…
MANIFEST (noun) : a list of contents
MANIFEST (verb) : to make a record of; to set down in permanent form
MANIFEST (adjective) : easily understood or recognized by the mind
Then see also MANIFESTO (noun) : a written statement declaring publicly the intentions, motives, or views of its issuer;
and see also, especially, MANIFESTING (noun) : the creative process of aligning with the energy of the Universe to co-create an experience that elevates your spirit and the spirit of the world;
at which point, you might begin to understand… Manifest (zine)!
It was rather serendipitous last year that the first issue of MANIFEST (zine) came out just in time for International Zine Month! An auspicious debut and an amazing first year! So, today we celebrate! Happy Birthday MANIFEST (zine)…and many more!
Thanks to Alex Wrek at Stolen Sharpie Revolution, we’re celebrating INTERNATIONAL ZINE MONTH! Stay tuned for lots of good zine things and consider these ways to celebrate throughout the month of July!
Maybe for breakfast you have one egg and toast without butter, and coffee without cream,
and maybe you swallow down the bitter truth of it with a token smile,
grab your bag from the hallway table, and escape into the crisp, cold morning air
breathe……….breathe for a while
because you know at supper, after work, you’ll only have one glass of wine, if that
and you’ll take those things you brought home with you today — the snips and pieces of passion — and tuck them back into that bag, that safe hiding place until tomorrow
so it’s easier tonight to be one-note and unobjectionable,
small and of no consequence to anyone’s conceit
so it’s easier to say no, no, no, it’s OK, and this is enough,
when what you wanted to say was
“I’ll have orange marmalade and butter, please, and sweet cream that whips to a peak, and three chilled glasses of Rosé.”
“I want to get up on that dance floor, darling, and make a complete fool of myself because one of us is leaving soon, and we won’t get this chance again!”
One of my favorite things about the work I get do to for my books and zines is the sleuthing. Hunting down random (often misappropriated) quotes, getting permissions to reprint, finding hard copy proof. Evidence for my readers — and myself — that I have done due diligence to make what you hold in your hands valid and true to the best of my abilities.
As a student of English literature and journalism, and as a life-long writer and citer, I feel an incredible responsibility to validate as many of my references as possible. To remind my readers, for example, that it was Henry Stanley Haskins who wrote “What lies behind us and what lies before us are but tiny matters compared to what lies within us,” not Ralph Waldo Emerson or Gandhi, and not Buddha.
When I was writing LOOK UP! Musings on the Nature of Mindfulness, in which I used that quote, I actually spent six months researching and properly attributing quotes. That task included rabbit holes like the quote sourced to a 1970s motivational poster printed by an academic publisher in Texas written by a retired social worker in Oak Park, Illinois.
I get a little geeky when it comes to that kind of thing. Like a dog with a bone. Truth be told, I love it as much Alice loved going on her adventures!
My most recent adventure involved Leonard Cohen and a 60-year-old book.
While I was working on the spring issue of MANIFEST (zine): CRICKETS, I found a beautiful poem by Cohen called “Summer Haiku.” The poem appeared in his book The Spice-Box of Earth of which there was a rare, limited edition hardcover edition that included illustrations by Frank Newfeld, a renowned Canadian illustrator and book designer.
There were several copies of the book available online starting at around $200, which is a tad higher than my budget for the zine project. Less expensive copies did not include the Newfeld illustrations, and by this point in the adventure those were key.
I did find and purchase issue number 56 of The Devil’s Artisan: A Journal of the Printing Arts that featured Newfeld’s work on delicious, offset-printed, antique laid pages. It even included a letterpressed color keepsake of Newfeld’s illustration for Cohen’s poem “The Gift,” which appears in The Spice-Box of Earth.
I went on to find a bookseller in Canada, Steven Temple, who owns a copy of the 1961 edition. Searching through the 10,000 books he attends to in his home-based bookshop, he found and took the photo of “Summer Haiku” that appears in CRICKETS.
Of course, I was still curious. What did the rest of the book look like? How many poems were there? How many illustrations? How could I see it? Read it?
My local library did not have a copy of the book, nor did Google Books. According to a 2016 article in Toronto Life, the University of Toronto’s Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library is “home to 140 banker’s boxes worth of Cohen’s archives” including “handwritten notes and letters, portraits, CDs, paintings, novel manuscripts, books, early drafts of his poetry and lyrics, and even art he made when he lived as a Buddhist monk.” Would it include a digital copy of The Spice-Box of Earth?
It did not.
Nor did the online Library and Archives of Canada or the Canadian Electronic Library. But on the Hathi Trust Digital Library website there was a helpful “Find in a Library” link that, when clicked, revealed some familiar and within-driving-distance names: Yale University, Wesleyan University, Connecticut College.
Lightbulb! I immediately emailed a woman I know at our local library, Deb Trofatter, who is the Associate Librarian for Reference Services and Technology, and asked…by any chance…can you get a copy of…
Which is how, on May 15, I came to have in my hands a 60-year-old hardcover copy of Leonard Cohen’s The Spice-Box of Earth to savor and share.
NOTES & LINKS
• The Spice-Box of Earth, illustrated by Frank Newfeld. (Toronto: McClelland & Stewart, 1961).
• Click here to purchase my book LOOK UP! Musings on the Nature of Mindfulness
• Meditations in Wall Street by Henry Stanley Haskins (New York: William Morrow & Co., 1940).
• The Quote Verifier: Who Said What, Where, and When, by Ralph Keyes (New York: St. Martin’s Griffin, 2006).
• Learn more about The Devil’s Artisan : A Journal of the Printing Arts
• Discover Steven Temple Books
• Read “A look inside U of T’s massive archive of Leonard Cohen poems, letters and pictures,” in Toronto Life
• Check out the University of Toronto’s Thomas Fisher Rare Book Library
MANIFEST ZINE
Issue #4, Crickets
by Jen Payne
Storytelling is in our DNA says Brené Brown in her book Rising Strong. We share our stories because “we feel most alive when we’re connecting with others and being brave with our stories.” That process, she explains, causes our brains to release cortisol and oxytocin, the chemicals that “trigger the uniquely human ability to connect, empathize, and make meaning.” So we write. And we create. No matter who listens or responds. Crickets be damned.
MANIFEST (zine): Crickets is a riff and a rant about the consequences of creative bravery. It’s a 24-page, full color booklet that includes a curated Spotify playlist for your listening pleasure.
INGREDIENTS: appropriation art, black-out poetry, collaged elements, color copies, colored markers, ephemera, hand-drawn fonts, ink jet copies, laser prints, vintage illustrations, watercolor paints, and “11 Cute Facts About Crickets.”
With THANKS to to the British Library Digital Library, Brené Brown, Leonard Cohen, Carlo Collodi, Francis Crick, Charles Dickens, Mary Elizabeth Mapes Dodge, Natalie Goldberg, Charles d. Orbigny, Pinocchio, George Selden, the Trustees of the British Museum, James Watson, and Margaret J. Wheatley.
Issue #4, Crickets
24-page, full-color 4.25 x 5.5, Cost: $6.00
BUY NOW or SUBSCRIBE and get 4 issues for just $20!
Emily Fletcher, author of the awesome book Stress Less, Accomplish More: Meditation for Extraordinary Performance, writes “When we create something — whether it’s dinner for a friend, a presentation at work, a self-published memoir, or a new company — we’re stepping into the unknown and making ourselves vulnerable by putting into concrete terms something we had nurtured in our mind.”
MANIFEST (zine) is just that.
Emerging from creative inspirations and the solitude of the pandemic, this colorful, eclectic publication features my own writing and artwork, along with thoughts and images from a host of guest artists and authors, all dancing loosely around themes like change, time, and silence. The result — what has been manifest especially for you — is a thought-full, tactile journey of consideration and contemplation.
Curious? You can buy individual issues below for just $6.00 or SUBSCRIBE now and get 4 issues for $20.00.
The newest issue — Crickets — should be ready in June. I can’t wait for you to see it! Until then, sending wishes for good inspiration and steady health!
Love,
Jen Payne
Writer / Poet / Artist
Three Chairs Publishing
Issue #4, CRICKETS
Storytelling is in our DNA says Brené Brown in her book Rising Strong. We share our stories because “we feel most alive when we’re connecting with others and being brave with our stories.” That process, she explains, causes our brains to release cortisol and oxytocin, the chemicals that “trigger the uniquely human ability to connect, empathize, and make meaning.” Issue #4 of MANIFEST (zine) presents a riff and a rant about the consequences of creative bravery.
PREORDER – Ships June 1
24-Page, Color, 4.25 x 5.5 Booklet, curated Spotify playlist, $6.00
BUY NOW!
Issue #3, IT’S ABOUT TIME
We humans sure are creative with time, aren’t we? This arbitrary turning clocks backward and forward twice a year, assigning time to zones and lines and frames. I myself try to trick time, setting clocks randomly wrong and always fast as if I can somehow control the hours, beat the unwinnable Kobayashi Maru of time. Even Albert Einstein said time is an illusion — “a stubbornly persistent illusion” — that time and space are merely “modes by which we think and not conditions in which we live.” Of course, if you think too hard on things like that you end up down rabbit holes and worm holes…want to come along?
• READ MORE about this issue
28-Page, Full-Color, 7.5 x 5.5 Booklet, curated Spotify playlist, $6.00
BUY NOW!
Issue #2, CAT LADY CONFESSIONS
Poor Cat Lady. She always gets a bum rap. No one ever makes fun of Ernest Hemingway, whose Key West home was filled with cats — and he of a certain age. His strapping action figure includes a typewriter and a shotgun. Cat Lady? She gets six cats, bed head, and a ratty bathrobe. Doesn’t she earn points for opening her heart wide open? for loving even the most unlovable? for her strong, independent nature; Her patience and acceptance? for her superpower ability to nurture trust, stillness, solitude, balance? This issue of MANIFEST (zine) explores the oft-maligned life of the cat lady: crazy or contemplative? recluse or dancing to the beat of her own drum? You decide.
• READ MORE about this issue
24-Page, Full-Color, 5.5 X 8.5 Booklet, curated Spotify playlist $6.00
BUY NOW!
Issue #1, DIVINE INTERVENTION
What is the force that moves us? Changes us? Propels us with such acceleration that we hardly recognize ourselves. Is it grief, heartbreak, indignation? Or joy, courage, determination? Perhaps it is DIVINE INTERVENTION — masked for our benefit as demon or angel or a hurried white rabbit who intrigues us just enough to move. To trip, fall, test the waters, grow up, expand, explore. And praise be to that because often, so very often, those big and unexpected transitions become our greatest and most profound adventures.
• READ MORE about this issue
Full-Color, folded 11×17 zine, curated Spotify playlist, $6.00
BUY NOW!
I look
in the mirror
and see nothing.
Pieces of familiar fall away.
Sticks poke at what’s left.
Start from scratch
or use a box mix?
Put square peg
in square hole…
that’s never been my style.
I take a walk
to get answers.
Insert A into B, get C.
But all I see is ocean.
Vast and unresolved.
IT doesn’t seem
to need answers.
In. Out. Back. Forth.
Up. Down. [Repeat.]
I take my cue and leave.
It’s OK. Really.
I was bored with me anyway.
If you please,
may I see something
in a polygon?
If you like this poem, you’ll LOVE the Divine Intervention issue of MANFEST (zine)
Be the change you wish to see in the world — be the change you fear.
Serve it up in bite-size pieces and make peace with it because resistance is futile.
Change comes and change comes and change comes
and you change and you change and you change.
Extra change in your pocket
is just reserve for the next detour.
Recalculating.
Better to live in fluidic space, liquid and organic,
bending time, not biding,
moving from here to there effortlessly.
Gracefully.
Gratefully.
Because an object at rest stays at rest
but an object in motion stays in motion
and we all know it’s the motion in the ocean that counts.
If you like this poem, you’ll LOVE the Divine Intervention issue of MANFEST (zine)
Damn those little murders,
those small infractions
to which we pay no mind
save for the evidence markers
placed at the foot of the moment
this, here, remember.
Wise or not wise we file them away
in a box called Misdemeanors
until the shelf bends and breaks
and proof bears witness;
only then do we see the trail of blood
from that first red flag
to a catalog of minor injuries
and shallow stab wounds,
enough to leave us only hobbled,
the walking wounded.
In court, they’d present the facts
prove we didn’t plan for this
to any known degree;
a crime of accident and
unintended consequences;
suggest Self-Defense,
and we’d both just nod to agree.
I apologize to the birds
for being late
for arriving to the feeder
after the snow begins
assure them not to worry
there’s an endless supply
I say out loud
while I note “birdseed”
on a pad by the door……..again.
I am sure the red fox wonders,
as does the otter and friends,
what happened to the horizon,
why the light that’s not a star shines
from sun down to sun up
with no seeming purpose,
why the fresh salt air is slow to come
The gulls know, of course
They see from the sky
the new and larger rooftops,
the wide expanses of useless green,
the decks and porches and drives,
the construction constructed from the edge of their pond to the edge of the harbor
They see even, in the biggest living room
of the biggest house
the big screen TV,
which,
on certain mornings,
lights the horizon just like a sun,
casts shadows on the fox
and the otter
who will never know again
the rush of first light and certain breezes.
TALK ABOUT MANIFESTING…they hadn’t yet come out with the action figure when I was first called a “Cat Lady.” Besides, at 23, I was hardly the poster child for “a cultural archetype most often depicted as a woman, a middle-aged or elderly spinster, who has many cats.” I was young and dancing to the beat of some wicked good 80s music, just being me, coloring a little outside of the lines. And I only had one cat.
Truth be told, back then I thought “Cat Lady” was a term of endearment — sweet, soft, cuddly — not a derisive comment meant to make me feel less valid or valuable. Crazy, even; abnormal and somehow unable to abide by cultural expectations.
Poor Cat Lady. She always gets a bum rap. No one ever makes fun of Ernest Hemingway, whose Key West home was filled with cats — and he of a certain age. His strapping action figure includes a typewriter and a shotgun. Cat Lady? She gets six cats, bed head, and a ratty bathrobe.
Doesn’t she earn points for opening her heart wide open? for loving even the most unlovable? for her strong, independent nature; Her patience and acceptance? for her superpower ability to nurture trust, stillness, solitude, balance?
Her action figure should be quietly fierce. And wearing a purple silk kimono…just like me!
Curious? Then get your copy of the latest issue of MANFEST (zine) today!
Issue #2, CAT LADY CONFESSIONS
explores the oft-maligned life of the cat lady: crazy or contemplative? recluse or dancing to the beat of her own drum? You decide. Includes a curated Spotify playlist. (Color, 24-page booklet)
I am a Winter Warrior
and a Manifesting Angel
I’ve Finished Strong
and Started Stronger™
Unraveled My Year™
Found My Word
and my Theme Song
I did an Angel Card reading
and consulted the Runes
I’ve completed my Vision Board
committed to Read 50 Books
set my Intentions
and in a hopeful, albeit futile, attempt to control the fates of 2021,
I wrote my Resolution:
REST
Poem ©2021, Jen Payne. Painting, Femme couchee, dormant by Felix Vallotton
Part of the Coin-Operated Press Christmas Zine Fair
JEN PAYNE is no stranger to the zine phenomenon. Her first zine —The Latest News — came out in the early 1990s during the golden age of Factsheet Five and Mike Gunderloy. Since those early days writing The Latest News, Jen has enjoyed putting her writing out into the world through the online lit/art journal Creative Soup, her blog Random Acts of Writing, and as part of art installations, literary magazines, and anthologies. Her most recent effort, Three Chairs Publishing, is a vehicle for her four published books and other creative projects, like MANIFEST (zine).
Click below to read the full interview by Coin-Operated Press!
As the cold winter nights draw in, Coin-Operated Press is showcasing fellow zine-makers just in time for the Hollyday season! Their first annual Christmas Zine Fair is online THIS weekend, Saturday December 5 and Sunday December 6.
Visit the Christmas Zine Fair to check out our zine-makers at their virtual tables.
The folks at Coin-Operated Press will be live throughout the day with loads of cool zine happenings! So, do visit the fair a few times, and/or make sure you turn on your notification for this event on Facebook so you don’t miss out on any of the festive fun!
MANIFEST (zine) will make a special appearance on Sunday at 6am GMT. We’ll add a link when we’re live!
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 5
10:00 Welcome/Opening Post from Coin-Op Press
11:00 Christmas Zine Shop Launch
12:00 Caw & Paw
13:00 Charlie Birch
14:00 Chloe Henderson
15:00 Drawn Poorly Zine
16:00 Dungeon Maven Games
17:00 Coin-Operated Press Interview Video on YouTube
18:00 Echo Zines
19:00 Fuzzy Cherry Zines
20:00 Thank you for coming/see you tomorrow from Coin-Op Press
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 6
10am Welcome/Opening Post Day 2
11:00 MANIFEST (zine)
12:00 Mini-Komix
13:00 Regional by Sam
14:00 Sean Dempsey
15:00 Sublunam
16:00 Tentaclerental
17:00 Weirdo Brigade
19:00 Thank you for coming/goodbye from Coin-Op Press!
MANIFEST (zine) presents Cat Lady Confessions, a full-color exposé that explores the oft-maligned life of the cat lady: crazy or contemplative? recluse or dancing to the beat of her own drum? You decide.
Now on sale, this 24-page, color booklet includes essays, poetry, and mixed media collage pieces. You’ll get to make your own Cat Lady mask, and dance around to a Spotify playlist curated especially for this issue.
Part artist book, part chapbook, MANIFEST (zine) is the creation of writer / poet / artist Jen Payne. It’s a hold-in-your-hands art installation featuring Jen’s creative efforts along with inspirational quotes, and bits and pieces of whatnot that rise to the surface as she meditates on a theme.
Layered with colors, textures, and meanings, each issue is handmade then color-copied and embellished. The result is a thought-full, tactile journey with nooks and crannies for you to discover along the way.
Cat Lady Confessions costs $6.00, but you can subscribe to MANIFEST (zine) and get four issues for just $20.00. Support the project as a $30.00 Sponsor and get four issues plus a special gift!
CLICK HERE for more information or order your copy today!
Issue #2, CAT LADY CONFESSIONS
explores the oft-maligned life of the cat lady: crazy or contemplative? recluse or dancing to the beat of her own drum? You decide. Includes a curated Spotify playlist. (Color, 24-page booklet)
The 6am bird outside my window
knows nothing of this angst,
the heavy beat of my heart,
it just sings
peter-peter-peter
peter-peter-peter
and sings some more,
but I have no song
not this day, not this week
I am speechless
and songless
and almost…
almost
hopeless.
Do you think the titmouse
would still sing if it
could see the foreshadow of winter,
the deception of sunshine days,
and the unkind cold of darkness?
Would the lilt of
peter-peter-peter
peter-peter-peter
be just as joyful,
playful even as birds skip
from branch to branch
this November morning?
Will I be joyful
or playful even, in the shadow
of what comes or doesn’t come,
what hides hungry in wait,
or what the fresh sky offers
as holy compensation?
For this
this ground beneath my feet,
the signs of seasons, yes, and change
forever change
footsteps
…..forward
……….fortitude
fearlessness
solitude
communion
grace
…..god
greatness in small things……….and large
this, this ground beneath my feet
holds everything
…..and me
spinning forward across a galaxy
…..a universe
and She of all things
in every footstep
here, this ground beneath my feet
In the long space between cars
from the Sunday road,
I could hear the bell buoy
just off shore,
the breeze from the Sound
pushed curtains aside
allowing a view south
to see, from my window,
the fall migration,
to wonder at how things change
so quickly and so slowly
while I folded, carefully,
in meditation……….and mediation
each and every sheet
in my possession
the cool cottons and soft flannels,
the cooperative flats,
and grumbly fitteds
housekeeping
housekeeping
housekeeping
as if in the folding
I could lose the grief,
misplace the pain,
find comfort in neat tucked corners
and sweet even stacks
knowing that they’ll return —
the birds — in spring,
and life goes on.
at the slow rough edge
that separates
night from day
and sleep from wake
there is a rumble
a deep, low grumble
that comes in short bursts
……….rummm-bmm-bmm-bmm
……….rummm-bmm-bmm-bmm
a……….rummmm rummmm
……….rummmm rummmm
or short series of
……….bmm bmm bmm
like heavy footsteps
approaching
you’ll cast doubt, I know,
but are you awake like me,
alert at that rough edge and
startled by its stirring?
its clamoring
louder and louder?
its fire breath
the final proof
that something wakes
at the rough edge of day
It was just the other summer day
I wondered if your hair turned gray.
If you loved her still enough to stay.
And then as if in cue today,
I saw your car pass my way.
That telltale glance gave you away,
the smile that always could betray.
And I, with so much left to say,
kept still and let this poem aweigh.
Alive without breath,
As cold as death;
Never thirsty, ever drinking,
All in mail never clinking.
My nephew, fresh from the pages of Tolkien,
sees a fish carcass on the beach,
predicts Gollum! though we both wonder.
He considers the waves left from a storm,
the wind that blows us each askew,
thinks with furrowed brow, like me
as I sift through those things I know:
the trespass of raw sewage
and slick film of leached oil,
the change of warming waters,
our persistent lack of rain.
But he’s off on a new adventure now,
throwing boulders with grunts and gasps,
Take that! he yells, a holler into the wind
as loud as mine would be if allowed
to grieve the things he cannot see.
a deconstructed garden
the secondary scents
or quieter facets of floristry
often overlooked:
freshly cut stems,
crushed leaves,
rich soil
as beautiful and evocative as the flower itself
what lingers
green hyacinth and dewy muguet
mandarin, hyacinth, freesia
molecules
radiance
sensuality
This morning before dawn I found myself
looking for black pants in the dark.
In the dark before dawn,
I was looking for black pants
and found it apt metaphor
that search in the dark
for hope when it’s so hard to see
as hard to see as black in the dark
that search for hope
that’s hard to see, these days
these days and most days,
black as the dark before dawn
an outstretched hand unseen
in the dark, this morning, with hope.
FRIENDS 2020
I miss the taken-for-granted pleasure of soft butter spread on another piece of bread at my favorite restaurant,
how it complements the white wine served in a chilled glass so well I could have a meal of just that: bread, butter, wine.
I miss the face of my friend across the table from me, less than six feet for sure, her uncovered smile,
the back and forth of gestures, nods, hands-in-the-air exclamations about all of those things:
making art! writing! travel!
a heron, hummingbird, bee!
life and love…and that bread, can you believe it!
I miss our slow, slow pace that lasts longer than a meal, almost sometimes longer than a shift,
as we nod our gratitude to the waitress who knows us by smiles and gestures that say
yes, pour more wine
yes, leave more butter, please
yes, yes more bread of course, more bread
when the only thing that covers our face is the brief glance at a menu
or the swipe of a linen napkin to wipe a crumb from a smile never again taken for granted.
And so it goes.
I once left a man because he used my toothbrush.
I was young of course, but it wasn’t the face value indiscretion that caused the sudden severing,
it was the implications: swerving across lines of trust, respect, kindness.
We wonder where love goes, how friendships end, how communities falter and countries fail.
It’s in the small and everyday: the one false move that tips the scale too far, too much.
In the blink of an eye we’re careening across the median, crashing into something hard and unyielding,
spitting what’s left down the drain, and praying the tap still works to wash away the betrayal.
And so it goes. Like that. Just as complicatedly simple as that.
Projecting
It’s OK, I reassure her.
You’re alright.
Seemingly all day
I talk out loud
Where are you?
Are you OK?
Yesterday, she startled
when I walked into the room
both of us unaware of the other
It’s OK I reassure her
and You’re alright
but I wonder sometimes
at this grand projection,
is she in possible peril
or am I?
randomactsofwriting.wordpress.com