Disappointment :(

So, I have worked for two solid months, madly, night and day creating zines. I haven't ever made zines before and knowing this I applied for a place at the Edinburgh Zine Festival, I like a challenge! As soon as I was approved, may be a little before, I started work. 

I named my stall 'selkie' thinking I would make Edinburgh based zines and zines about the wildlife of the Forth as I had relevant research, but no, I have made zines on why the chainsaw was invented . . .

On airship stories that just kept appearing in an odd coincidence. 

Including a story that made me weep every time I explained it; it was a failed expedition to reach the north pole in a hydrogen balloon , I can't even type it without crying so please see explanation below:

This tragic ending to a beautiful couples future together just breaks me, whilst the story of Dr Robert Liston's disastrous 300% mortality from one operation, is a favourite and makes me smile every time. 

There were tiny coffins (at last an Edinburgh story) which I had a vague recollection of, but loved finding out more and I really hope I can get to see them soon (on the 4th floor of the new part of the museum of Scotland).

There were zines on the arms trade. Zines on Scottish socialists that I was in awe at; Jimmy Reid, John McClean and Mary Brooksbank. A book on an Italian man who has spent his life collecting rocks and so so many more. 

Then there were the tined zines that were complex cut outs on concertina bases, the first the result of a hideous miscarriage of justice, which made me very stressed, unhappy and sweary, The resulting zine makes me smile every time, it is my 'tin of fucks' and despite it's swearyness I am exceedingly proud of it, it is funny and makes most people laugh. I think most people need a tin of little people holding up fucks to help them through hard days/ times. 

It led me to create a massive concertina cut out 'tin of human rights'. The International Convention of Human Rights which the UK Government is trying to get rid of, in order to push through it's heinous Rwanda Bill. 

As my daughter has lately made me aware, my art is me in what ever form it takes: zines, books, textiles, photography, paintings . . . and this little collection from the winter of 23/24 is dark, but full of humanity and trying to laugh it's way through. 

Oh! and as for disappointment. I managed to get to the wonderful zine and artist book fairs in the Edinburgh Fruitmarket yesterday, but I have been up all night caring for someone, and I am ill myself, so today I have had to cancel.