Thank you for reading, writing, and collaborating with us during Conjunction’s first year of existence! Since we started this project in January 2022, time seems to have passed in the weird, hybrid animal way that it does: fast and slow, inching, racing, constricting, and occasionally flying.
I hope that some time during the past year, you read an issue of Conjunction and learned something new about eels, mayflies, deep time, or fungi. Maybe you enjoyed using some of our writing prompts or experimented with poetry-comics, pressed flower art, block printing, or felting. We hope something in these seasonal packages invited you to pause, wonder, and create.
Karah and I started this project partly as an invitation. Conjunction encourages us to collaborate with each other and dedicate time to pursuing new creative endeavors. It also invites our readers to join us as we figure things out, learn new skills, and respond to quarterly prompts.
Most importantly, Conjunction is an invitation to consider time—especially creative time—in a different way. Someone once told me that being a poet is a long game. I think you can replace the word “poet” with any other in that phrase. You can even omit “poet” altogether: being is a long game. And it’s not, at the same time. Practicing any art takes time, and through Conjunction, I’ve been open to seeing the ways that this practice ebbs, flows, and evolves, over the course of seasons and years. Instead of thinking of my writing practice as a trajectory, I try to think of it as a season: a cycle full of of beginnings, endings, and returns
I’m excited for 2023. I secretly drafted one of those in / out lists that I’ve been seeing on Instagram and something that I’d like to invite in is more classes and learning. I want to practice more types of artmaking. I want to get weirder with poetry-comics and book arts and maybe start to sew. We also want to facilitate more opportunities to connect and collaborate with Conjunction subscribers through readings and virtual workshops.
In 2023, we are changing our subscription pricing to make the workflow around this project a little more balanced for us. There are now two tiers of subscription to Conjunction. You have the option to sign up for a Solstice Subscription ($30), which includes a handbound zine featuring original content from Karah and myself once each quarter. Or you have the option to sign up for a Celestial Subscription ($50), which features our quarterly collaborative zine as well as original artwork (prints, posters, stickers, comics, and more).
We’re looking forward to continuing to create with you this year!
The vernal equinox is finally here. After a challenging winter filled with grey skies and grief and devasting headlines, I'm very much looking forward to a change in the seasons. It's rainy here in Portland this weekend, but spending some time repotting my peperomias and spiderlings has reminded me that sunnier skies are on their way. That's not to say spring won't be without its challenges, but I'm trying still to make art sometimes, to spend time outside, and to dwell longer in the moments that ground me.
To celebrate the equinox, I drew a tarot card to serve as inspiration for the spring. Maybe it'll be the spark you need to start a new project.
To represent the king, I chose a nudibranch called the Spanish shawl. Growing up, I loved exploring tide pools in northern California, which are full of brightly colored animals like these sea slugs. With neon rhinophores and graceful underwater movements, they always seemed incredibly regal to me. And although they're technically water creatures, Spanish shawl nudibranchs look awfully fiery to me—an excellent representative for the suit of wands.
Like a flame, the king of wands is bright and charismatic. They draw others in with their warmth, dynamic presence, and impressive know-how. This is a trustworthy leader with creative ideas who follows through on their commitments and inspires other people to join them.
This card asks you to think about the projects you've invested in and relationships you've made. Which tasks & people in your life truly inspire you? How can you dedicate yourself more fully to things that light your fire?
Imagine the force that animates you. Is it fire? Saltwater? Starlight? Electricity? Try to describe it using all five senses.
Now that you know what you're made of, tell us your elemental origin story. When, where, how, and why did you first recognize this life force in yourself?
Wishing you all a transformative, rejuvenating spring—spend some time with plants, if you're able!
We print our zines at the IPRC in Portland and gather most of our materials from local art supply stores.