An unexpected part of my creative practice lately has been making zines. Most of the zines I've made so far have been sent along to my Stampfans subscribers, which I credit with giving me the push to create something new and different each month.

This month's zine is a reflection on the summer from the liminal space called September. It calls forth memory, lessons learned, and gifts received.

I found a gift at the local supermarket yesterday - boxes of strawberries. Not the plastic clamshells from Mexico, but berries that looked fresh from the patch - in September, no less!

I ate them all within the span of a day.

I've been listening to Robin Wall Kimmerer's masterwork Braiding Sweetgrass. I picked up a copy of The Serviceberry on a quick weekend trip out of town. 

If you're unfamiliar with her work, these two books center around the idea of abundance, gifts, and reciprocity in the natural world.

Roskva, one of the Keepers of the Seeds at the Coastal Maine Botanical Gardens. I felt so many feelings there!

You might not know this about me, but I went to school for sustainable agriculture and I can be an insufferable plant nerd. To me, ecology seemed as relevant to people and relationships as it was to the natural world. 

When I stepped into the world of Angry Gato in 2020, I did it mostly because I was making and donating cloth face masks. Some folks would see my masks and ask if they could have one. Some had special requests for patterns or themes. 

So, I decided that I would sell them and the proceeds quickly ended up back into fabric and supplies for the masks I'd donate. 

This was the fabric I used to make my very first mask. If we had to wear these uncomfortable things, I thought, why not make it silly and fun?

Artists struggle a lot with pricing the products of their labor. 

When I eventually moved beyond masks and offered my own art for sale, I wanted to hold firm in the belief that my labor had value. 

If people buy my stuff and the profit margin is acceptable for me, then the market appropriately values my work. To this day I think a lot about whether a product is cost- and labor-efficient. 

We all have bills to pay, after all.

Our booth space at last weekend's Mystics, Makers, and Magick market before the event started.

Angry Gato mainly pays its own bills, and not much more. That's okay. But I often struggle with the idea of this container for my creative expression to be so dependent upon making sales.

 

Putting forth more "stuff" into the world. Being told that I have to be on social media, so I can just shout into the algorithmic void and hope someone hears me.

Scarcity, scarcity, scarcity.

I've been thinking about The Serviceberry and Braiding Sweetgrass, and about reciprocity, particularly in the context of my art and my business. I think I'm beginning to see beyond the shadows, to what might be.

This weekend, I vended at a local market called Mystics, Makers, and Magick. It was a swampy, steamy morning with enough breeze to make it barely tolerable. We got rained out at 2:30 and a bunch of my zines got ruined.

But that's not what I remember most about the event.

This sticker was made by my friend Made By Max. He lives in North Carolina now, but I found one of his stickers back up in New Hampshire.

I remember seeing many friends, some of which were fellow vendors. I helped Haley, a friend new to outdoor markets with their tent weights, lending some bungee cords and wrapping the heavy concrete filled pipes around their tent legs.

I remember my friend Cass, when I went to their booth and selected a print, telling me they didn't want my money because I've supported them on Patreon for years. So I insisted on bringing over zines to give instead.

I remember seeing many many other friends and familiar faces. I remember feeling the abundance of connection with the market-goers as they laughed at my stickers and told stories about their cats.

(People always do this.)

I remember showing some folks the prototype for my Ask the Cats oracle deck, sharing it like a secret, not caring if they bought anything.

I remember someone saying that their best sales tactic was genuine enthusiasm.

Another example of abundance and reciprocity in action - recently I helped harvest tulsi (holy basil) at a local farm, and got to bring some home!

This, to me, is what abundance and reciprocity can look like in our world. It's a reminder that another way is possible.

The delight of seeing weird, funny illustrations in my booth is a gift, freely given. Some will share their money in exchange for holding onto that delight for a little while longer. 

That exchange feeds me, my family, and my creative spirit. That day, it got us some ice cream on our way home.

And that is more than enough.

Thanks for being here, for walking with me on this meandering garden path of a message, and for sharing in abundance with me.

💌 Lindsey
Angry Gato Designs

silly art for serious joy