Zines

Any of the zines published here are okay to be distributed! You are very welcome to print them out, fold them up, trade them, repost them to other platforms, drop some off at your local zine library, etc.

Right now, I don't sell zines. If I do, they'll likely be longer form anyway. You may not sell these zines or use them in a commercial context. Additionally, you may not remove the credit portions of the zines.

My friend Xalli and I co-created, and co-run, a Tumblr-based archive of zines by youth. It's called Warmblooded Zines. You can find it here! If you'd like to submit your work, take a look at the submission guidelines first.

If you're not sure how to print out and fold mini-zines, you can use this tutorial by the Institute of Contemporary Art at Boston to help you. If you are interested in making your own zines, or have questions about what zines are, please don't hesitate to send me an email or send an ask to Warmblooded Zines.

red door, yellow door

Still working on a description of this, sorry!

sick fig

A zine in an 8-page layout. The first page has 'sick fig' written at the top in cursive, over an anthropomorphic jackalope with pointed horns, who is sitting on the ground with a mask and glasses on, next to a cane. In parentheses are (I heart my cane). At the bottom reads, 'a zine about post-viral illness in the age of COVID-19.' The second page says, 'In fall 2021, I got sicker than I'd ever been before. I was relatively healthy, having walked miles to a volunteer position several days that summer. I was 14.' The jackalope is sitting at a computer holding an inhaler, and looks anxious while saying, 'can you stay on call with me? I feel like I'm gonna pass out when I take my inhaler.' The third page says, 'It soon became clear, even after I 'got better,' that I was extremely unwell. I started having memory lapses, and began waking up unable to breathe and with my joints screaming in pain. Every time I stood up, I felt like I was about to pass out, and I found myself almost completely exhausted.' There are several small images: one of the jackalope in bed, tired with a nebulizer, and one of the jackalope vomiting. The fourth page says, 'I had to drop classes at my (online) school, and delayed my expected graduation date. I tried to volunteer at a local library, but was too exhausted to show up consistently. I worried about how I would go to college or work. I still don't know.' There is a picture of the jackalope at a computer, looking anxious. The fifth page says, 'Worst of all, doctors kept insisting there was nothing wrong with me. That 'sometimes teenagers just faint.' It took 9 months before a doctor said to my face he suspected I might have dysautonomia. I'm still in the process of seeking diagnoses.' There is a picture of the jackalope looking at a phone and frowning, while a bubble appears from the phone that reads, 'Blood tests came back normal!' The sixth page says, 'Although I'll never know whether or not what I have is Long COVID, one of the hardest parts is seeing friends who comforted me about my illness risk themselves out of choice. I'd been safe the whole pandemic! But I was sick.' There is a picture of the jackalope with a mask on looking at a phone, on which a picture of two other rabbits can be seen where they are in a large crowd, laughing. The seventh page says, 'Last year, I got 'Most Perserverant' as a school award. It made me want to scream. I don't want to be perserverant. I want to be a normal high schooler. It's hard, though, to ask to be kept safe. The choice between happiness (movies, dances, trips) and human life is only easy for so long. But for the sake of those like me, who even a cold can drastically affect, and for the sake of avoiding post-viral illness:' The eighth page says, 'MASK UP' (with a picture of a mask) 'with N95s or similarly protective garments,' 'LOOK OUT' (with a picture of an eye) 'for disabled people in your are and disabled friends. Ask how you can accommodate,' 'LISTEN' (with a picture of an ear) 'to the experiences of disabled people. Take our words to heart.' Below these is a dotted line, underneath which says: 'Mordecai. 1 May 2023.' There is an image of a cursor next to 'mordecaialba.com', then VISIT in all caps with an arrow pointing to 'warmbloodedzines on TUMBLR!' Additionally, there are several stars, and '(first zine EVER!)'

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