I’ve always liked things that don’t need to be perfect to be worth making.

Zines feel like that to me. They’re small, physical spaces where ideas, images, words and bits of research can live together without having to explain exactly what they are.

You can make one because you have a question, a collection of photographs, a strange obsession, or simply because you want to see what happens when you put a few things next to each other.

I like that they are cheap, imperfect, personal and shareable. A zine can be an experiment, a notebook, a tiny publication, a visual essay, sometimes all of these at once.

 

That’s probably why I keep making them.