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i started doing crappy drawings with ballpoint pen and watercolour on cheap notebook paper as those were the only materials available to me while living in cars or tents or squats or anarchist camps in the mountains

i stopped doing art while being at art school cause competing with my beloved class mates and friends was killing me softly. art came back to me in unexpected ways: it was the fibre which sewed me back together after burnout, the fuel i ran on when our van broke down and we were stranded on a public parking lot for many weeks, the last straw i held on to while drowning in depression, the only thing i could focus on during (activist) heartbreak

i figured out later that the combination of sketches and written word, the improvisation and the trashyness which make my zines unique, mirrors how my brain works: i don‘t think in words only, i think in colours, in pictures, in bad english, in poetry, in echolalia, in trauma, in patchwork carpets, in mind-maps, in steep mountain paths

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my first zine:

sasha and me drive our van down to ventimiglia ... at least that's what we intend to. the van goes into strike and we live for some weeks on a public parking lot. quite some time to think ... about my relationship with sasha, my father, my body, sheep and feminism.

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download for free, print and share with your friends!

TUTORIAL:

you got a printer which can print double-sided?? lucky-bougie-you! select "print double-sided" and "mirror short edge"! easy peasy!

you are not that lucky? no problem, most of us aren't. select "print uneven pages only" and print. then turn around the pages, insert them again and select "print even pages only". personally, i think it's quite a brainfuck and probably you will produce some misprints. maybe have some tea nearby or something to punch or throw ... to calm your nerves. don't give up, you can do it!

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„i burned out for a place so fcked up, i do not dare to go back

cause i know i would fall into the same patterns immediately

but at the same time, i don‘t know where else to go“

starts with me being stranded in germany, moving from friends couch to friends couch, slowly realising that i am not only very very tired but completly and painfully burned out.

continues with me analyzing how this „could have happened“, speaking about family trauma, abusive collective structures, machismo, queer-hate and ableism.

talks about healing attemps, about going back into "my" no-border-collective, about making my burnout political and an issue which concerns the entire collective, the broader anarchist szene

ends with me finding temporary peace and homing in my queerness, my neurodiversity, my working class heritage

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activist heartbreak. coming back to the collective without armour. feeling rejected, not seen, not valued, not cared for. imagining a fictional collective in which my comrades change into a more soft version of themselves and fight for me to come back and make me feel safe and nourished

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i have this HUGE crush on one of my friends. sadly it is very much unmutual. instead of dealing with the rejection and "trying to move on", i put my anger and hurt into a rant about emotional unavailability. i have strange feelings about this particular zine ( mostly shame, some alienation and a pot of compassion for my past self ). there are some nice ideas and vizualizations around the specific pitfalls of "punk love" though - the affection and bonds between severely traumatized individuals ... folks who really want to be there for each other ... but never really learned how to feel safely attached, how to set boundaries, how to respect boundaries ... how to not control the other ... how to not run away from the other - and somehow it would be a pity not to publish it :)

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after two years of re-building myself after burnout i am finally back with a new zine. still angry, still raw, still vulnerable. a collection of poems and drawings around sexism in agriculture, acknowledging and trying to heal inter-generational trauma about refusing to class jump, staying home and becoming a farmer, being trans in the rural areas, being trans and believing that god loves me