
The Hat I Wear to The Wedding (small book / half page) by Rachel Lee-Carman
The Hat I Wear to The Wedding was made in honor of my little brother's wedding that I offer for your literary enjoyment.
Follows the rhythm of familiar children's story, The Jacket I Wear in the Snow, with images replacing words and rhyme scheme.
Uses tongue-in-cheek nods to adult themes and answers the question everyone is asking, "who is Rachel bringing as her plus one?!"
The Hat I Wear To The Wedding is also a story of the clumsy contribution of the sometimes misunderstood artist of the family.
Specs:
Small book / half-page, 5.5" x 3.75" cardstock, rounded edges, bound in onion-skin orange yarn, 25 pages of content, color printed on inkjet printer.

The Hat I Wear To The Wedding (tiny edition) by Rachel Lee-Carman
The Hat I Wear to The Wedding was made in honor of my little brother's wedding that I offer for your literary enjoyment.
Follows the rhythm of familiar children's story, The Jacket I Wear in the Snow, with images replacing words and rhyme scheme.
Uses tongue-in-cheek nods to adult themes and answers the question everyone is asking, "who is Rachel bringing as her plus one?!"
The Hat I Wear To The Wedding is also a story of the clumsy contribution of the sometimes misunderstood artist of the family.
Specs:
Tiny book, 4.5" x 3" cardstock, rounded edges, bound in onion-skin orange yarn, 25 pages of content, color printed on inkjet printer.

the one about Ash Wednesday
Excerpt from zine: "A Babylonian sun god dies or something & people are asked to fast for forty-days. A day for ever year he was alive"
This project I started working on was a series of little one-off zines made by the folded archives of my old gallery prints of The Thread #16. I had folded them almost as a means of containment, keeping them organized with the promise of doing more in the future.
At the beginning of Lent, in late-February, I unearthed the little books and dedicated them to the forty-days, dedicating each day a little zine. This zine goes to March 26th 2020.Each zine intended to be an exploration on a certain subject I could dig into until it was exhausted.
Because there was no intent of making copies I was excited at the prospect of not limiting myself. I could work in a deep, dimensional way, crafting little pockets of water-colored illustrations and collage bits. I could include scraps of writing in carefully constructed nooks that didn't fit into a conventional essay, or boldly and lavishly print color images and photographs without the need to make more then one copy.
I could let this project be a bespoke mess outside the constructs of a black-and-white xerox containment.
These are one-of-a-kind publications. When one is purchased I have to manually pull it from the marketplace on my webpage. If there are double-purchases I will works something out with the person who purchased the item latest. You will probably get sweet bonuses too.
Or a sweet refund, of course. *smiley face, heart emoji*

the one about what I did Sunday and Monday
Excerpt from zine: "Last night Mom picked up Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet. I think it's Tyler's copy."
This project I started working on was a series of little one-off zines made by the folded archives of my old gallery prints of The Thread #16. I had folded them almost as a means of containment, keeping them organized with the promise of doing more in the future.
At the beginning of Lent, in late-February, I unearthed the little books and dedicated them to the forty-days, dedicating each day a little zine. The day for the zine is March 2nd 2020.Each zine intended to be an exploration on a certain subject I could dig into until it was exhausted.
Because there was no intent of making copies I was excited at the prospect of not limiting myself. I could work in a deep, dimensional way, crafting little pockets of water-colored illustrations and collage bits. I could include scraps of writing in carefully constructed nooks that didn't fit into a conventional essay, or boldly and lavishly print color images and photographs without the need to make more then one copy.
I could let this project be a bespoke mess outside the constructs of a black-and-white xerox containment.
These are one-of-a-kind publications. When one is purchased I have to manually pull it from the marketplace on my webpage. If there are double-purchases I will works something out with the person who purchased the item latest. You will probably get sweet bonuses too. Or a sweet refund, of course. *smiley face, heart emoji*

the one about my birthday
Excerpt from zine: "Scenes from a birthday in the garage where we had a dance party & ate fruit and macaroons."
This project I started working on was a series of little one-off zines made by the folded archives of my old gallery prints of The Thread #16. I had folded them almost as a means of containment, keeping them organized with the promise of doing more in the future.
At the beginning of Lent, in late-February, I unearthed the little books and dedicated them to the forty-days, dedicating each day a little zine. This zine was made for and around my birthday, March 5th 2020.Each zine intended to be an exploration on a certain subject I could dig into until it was exhausted.
Because there was no intent of making copies I was excited at the prospect of not limiting myself. I could work in a deep, dimensional way, crafting little pockets of water-colored illustrations and collage bits. I could include scraps of writing in carefully constructed nooks that didn't fit into a conventional essay, or boldly and lavishly print color images and photographs without the need to make more then one copy.
I could let this project be a bespoke mess outside the constructs of a black-and-white xerox containment.
These are one-of-a-kind publications. When one is purchased I have to manually pull it from the marketplace on my webpage. If there are double-purchases I will works something out with the person who purchased the item latest. You will probably get sweet bonuses too. Or a sweet refund, of course. *smiley face, heart emoji*

the one about the twins
Excerpt from zine: "I've seen you guys literally punch each other in the face."
This project I started working on was a series of little one-off zines made by the folded archives of my old gallery prints of The Thread #16. I had folded them almost as a means of containment, keeping them organized with the promise of doing more in the future.
At the beginning of Lent, in late-February, I unearthed the little books and dedicated them to the forty-days, dedicating each day a little zine. This zine was made for April 2nd 2020.Each zine intended to be an exploration on a certain subject I could dig into until it was exhausted.
Because there was no intent of making copies I was excited at the prospect of not limiting myself. I could work in a deep, dimensional way, crafting little pockets of water-colored illustrations and collage bits. I could include scraps of writing in carefully constructed nooks that didn't fit into a conventional essay, or boldly and lavishly print color images and photographs without the need to make more then one copy.
I could let this project be a bespoke mess outside the constructs of a black-and-white xerox containment.
These are one-of-a-kind publications. When one is purchased I have to manually pull it from the marketplace on my webpage. If there are double-purchases I will works something out with the person who purchased the item latest. You will probably get sweet bonuses too. Or a sweet refund, of course. *smiley face, heart emoji*