my soft space on the internet

I've been trying to find quick, approachable, creative activities to help heal my relationship with free time. I heard about this zine jam on Toyhou.se, of all places, and took it as an excuse to make something simple with absolutely zero aspirations of being great. I used a tool I'd been eyeing for ages (the Electric Zine Maker) and a flash of an idea I'd written in my notes app while at the store on Thursday.

The result, while straightforward and far from lifechanging, was nice. I'm an impatient artist. I struggle to see longer projects through. When it comes to digital art, if I can't get a piece done in one sitting, I give up all hope of ever finishing it. Odds are I'll move on before my brain wants to get started on the next big thing.

I've beaten myself up over that quality for so long. So with this, instead of continually bashing my head against the same few big projects, I thought I'd mosey my way through a much more contained piece. And it was really rewarding! I'm not exactly eager to shove it in everybody's faces, shy as I can be about my work sometimes, but I'm glad I did it. The tangible satisfaction of having submitted a new public project to itch for the first time in nearly two years is something I crave, and something I hope will keep me coming back to these small jams.

Though it's important to note that's not really what I'm in it for. Maybe I was at first. But as I ran my final exports and prepared to submit the project, I realized how happy I was just making a thing. So often with my other work, I put so much pressure on myself to see progress (Such as last night, when I was redesigning a few characters. I have been fighting with their designs on and off for over 6 years). But with the zine, my only goal was to get the words down and make it a real thing. No music in the background, no outside stimulation. Just the idea, the hands that shape it, and a result.

P.S. Here's the zine, if you want to take a peek. (I pinky promise the downloads won't kill you)

"Once upon a time, we used to wonder."

As I work to dismantle my relationship with modern social media, that's the mantra I can't help but repeat. With the birth of Google came the death of a particular aspect of the human lifestyle: being forced to sit with not knowing something. Answers come so quickly and easily now. Information is in abundance. And I think it's difficult to consider the possible drawbacks of this overabundance because to some, they may seem subjective. But I think our relationship with knowledge is different as a result of the search engine. I will even be so bold as to say that while it is easier to know things now, how much do we really learn?

Think of any singular, wondering question. In an instant you could type it in a search bar and get an answer. But in my opinion, you lose so much context this way. Wouldn't it be so much more enriching to seek out that subject in full? To have a broader grasp on the topic at hand? Besides, the internet is everyone's world, now. Anyone could tell you anything. Would you believe it? A shocking number of articles online are now written by AI. Is there any measure of life in that? What does it contribute to yours?

Lately, I've been taking not the harder, but the longer way around. Going out of my way to take the odd road when I drive home from an outing. Kicking up a small CD collection. Trying to live more in the physical media. If a topic intrigues me in theory, I'll go see what books there are on it and check it out from the library. It's not guaranteed I'll get to it, slow reader that I am, but there's a deeper state of engagement there.

I've come around to feeling as if the internet is almost too convenient. When there are no limits, how will we learn to limit ourselves? As adults with no one to dictate our lives and habits, it's all too easy to slink into the pit of dependence... which is exactly where CEOs want us all to be. A complacent individual is an individual controlled.

Another nothing-statement I keep repeating is: "this attention economy!" An exclamation of disappointment and discontent whenever an ad disrupts the flow of normal life in a way I find absurd. Attention really has become currency. The livelihoods of entertainers around the world--especially online--depend on it. Entertainment is a great thing, obviously. But could it become too much? If you are always entertained, when will you find the time to think for yourself?

Obviously, I'm thinking in extremes here. I don't think everyone who watches YouTube or browses social media is a sheep; I'd be the world's greatest hypocrite if I did. All I know is that the last few times I went out to run an errand or went on a walk around the neighborhood without my AirPods in, I had some of the greatest creative thoughts I've had in a while. Every day, I seem to be having more.

It's kind of impossible these days to be immune to the allure of the internet and all the knowledge it promises. I'm just trying to dare to view my relationship with information differently. Entirely fitting and exciting, then, that I just so happen to be heading into school for Information Science this fall. (I'm about to be the most insufferable person on that campus.)

Extra: Here's a cool article I found on related topics.
The Immediacy Complex: The Bias of Information 🔗

I'm not even finished with this book yet, but I wanted to talk about it anyway. I picked up Alison Bechdel's The Secret to Superhuman Strength because it manifested on the shelf in front of me at my local library and I figured I should give another one of her books a spin. I had checked out a small collection of Dykes to Watch Out For a year or two prior and enjoyed it, but I've been on a non-fiction buff lately and wanted continue sitting in that. Fun Home had left quite the impression on me when I read it for a Graphic Novels class in undergrad and was easily my favorite book I read that quarter.

Bechdel is really fantastic at what she does. While I'm obviously far from the expert on cartoonists, you can't deny the quality of her work, and that especially shines in her non-fiction memoir. Superhuman Strength especially exemplifies this as it bounces between different figures and periods of time, tracking a main through-thread of self-identification expressed through late-20th century American exercise trends. The book is about so much more than just exercise.

I'm not addicted to exercise myself, though I can appreciate its benefits. Although I'm not running a marathon anytime soon, a neighborhood walk is my first fix when I'm feeling off, and I remember feeling relaxed and energized following gym trips of yore. These last few months I've been seeing challenge and discomfort as more and more of a way of life. It doesn't matter whether that comes from putting the phone down when all you want to do is distract yourself, or getting up early for a workout, or getting up early to write your three morning pages (as prescribed by Julia Cameron of the infamous The Artist's Way). In that sense, Superhuman Strength comes at an appropriate time in my personal development. It only supplements my growing need to be challenged intellectually, while also adding some necessary pressure to my own current thoughts on identity and self-image... which is a bit much to be getting into on this particular post!

It's also nice to explicitly read about feminism again. The last time I'd read any feminist theory was for a class on 1700s British Erotica my junior year, and I hadn't formally learned about that period in American history since high school. Between this and reading I'd done for a senior-year essay on The Exorcist related to social movements of the 60s and 70s, I'm very close to seeking out more research of my own on that particular time period. I think many of the social issues people were concerned with back then are once again becoming relevant today.

And, of course, Bechdel has such an affective means of discussing these cultural moments. It's equally equated to her own personal development and examples throughout history, and every marked detail brings new notes to the discussion in subdued ways. The text is just as perfect as the art is, really exemplifying how good comics are just as much about text and intention as they are about art. I'm a firm believer that one doesn't need to be good at art to be good at comics, and while of course Bechdel's art stands well on its own, I think her work would be a great example for the non-believers.

There's your one week of pent-up ramblings poured out onto your reading page! Hope everyone is faring well. I've been in a wistful sort of spot for sure. Despite the challenges (many of them self-made), there's much to look forward to, and I won't shirk that truth.