Inktober 2016

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SELF-STORAGE VOL. 1 // INKTOBER 2016

In 2016, I participated in Inktober for the first time. Designers love constraints, so I limited myself to patterns or non-representational motifs, and only a few materials—India ink, water, three brushes in varying sizes, and some unexceptional mixed media paper. By day ten, I was convinced I was out of ideas, but I pep-talked myself into finishing the experiment. Looking back, I can't help laughing when I recall how impossible the task felt at the time (probably because I was in grad school, so anything extra, no matter how minor, felt impossible). The pleasure and satisfaction of spreading out the growing stack of drawings (and marveling at the infinite variety that even a novice like me could coax out of the same few materials), kept me motivated to reach the end. That, and a stubborn refusal to back down from a public commitment. Incidentally, I took a zine workshop around the same time I was finishing up Inktober. At some point, the lightbulb went off, and I realized that my black-and-white drawings would translate beautifully in the xeroxed world of zines. I printed, cut, bound and banded a first run of 20 copies to share with my friends. Copies from the second run of 20 are available at Printed Matter in NYC, Tiny Greenhouse in Greensboro, or in my Etsy shop. 

Self-Storage Vol. 2

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Self-Storage is a personal, informal contemplation of the self...specifically myself. What is the self? What is it made of? Where is it? These and other philosophical threads tangle themselves into knots in my mind from time to time, but I haven't lost much sleep. I remain willfully, blissfully ignorant of the real magnitude of those fundamental questions of human consciousness. However, I often return to the idea of self-storage—not a physical space for excess material goods, but a place to store the metaphysical self. A place to gather and inspect the bits and pieces accumulated and internalized over the years. Not necessarily large, lofty, world-view type stuff, but bits of mental string and fuzz you didn't even notice had been hitching a ride. Each patterned page is paired with a word or phrase I found in my mental scrap heap. I'm not sure what they mean to me, if they mean anything at all. The result is both an inventory and an exorcism.  

Self-Storage Vol. 1

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Self-Storage Vol 1: Self-Storage is a personal, informal contemplation of the self...specifically myself. What is the self? What is it made of? Where is it? These and other philosophical threads tangle themselves into knots in my mind from time to time, but I haven't lost much sleep. I remain willfully, blissfully ignorant of the real magnitude of those fundamental questions of human consciousness. However, I often return to the idea of self-storage—not a physical space for excess material goods, but a place to store the metaphysical self. A place to gather and inspect the bits and pieces accumulated and internalized over the years. Not necessarily large, lofty, world-view type stuff, but bits of mental string and fuzz you didn't even notice had been hitching a ride. Each patterned page is paired with a word or phrase I found in my mental scrap heap. I'm not sure what they mean to me, if they mean anything at all. The result is both an inventory and an exorcism.