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.