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

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.

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!

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