Raw, urgent, slightly unhinged. Made when sleep wasn't an option and the thought couldn't wait. Personal records of being awake when everyone else isn't.
City as Body
The city as a feeling, not a place.
About
Concrete, transit, strangers' windows, neon at midnight. Zines that treat urban life as material — not as subject, but as texture.
Handmade Evidence
Traces of hands on paper.
About
Pencil marks. Ink blots. Corrections left visible. These zines didn't come from a computer and they want you to know it.
One Person's Universe
One person, one topic, whole world.
About
About buses. Or buttons. Or one specific year. Obsessive, complete, totally committed. One person went very deep on one thing so you can too.
Rage Pamphlet
Anger as an art form.
About
Politics, body, system — everything that doesn't work and needs saying. Xeroxed at the library. Stapled with intention. These zines already know they're right.
Soft Apocalypse
Beautiful anxiety. End of the world, calm.
About
Melancholy without despair. Anxiety made quietly beautiful. Sitting with the feeling of living through something large without pretending it's okay — or that it isn't.
Tender & Weird
Gentle and a little strange.
About
Personal mythology, quiet surrealism, feelings without names yet. Safe space for the embarrassingly sincere. The kind of zine you give to one specific person.
Xerox Soul
B&W, raw, classic zine energy.
About
Cut and paste. Photocopier at 3pm. Staple gun. The original zine aesthetic — no computers, no grid, just scissors and something to say.
