» I survived my first Canzine. It would be cliché to then add ‘barely" but it somewhat applies. At times my mild generalized anxiety disorder wasn’t so mild. More picquant or, perhaps, downright spicy.
Multiple floors of the Gladstone Hotel were brutally packed with hundreds of nerdsters squeezing past each other, trying to budget their few dollars with far too much selection of top-notch zinery, screen-printery and general indie-craftery. It was both inspiring and daunting. I was filled with either the desire to step-up my game for product quality or throw in the towel because the market (and this is only the south Ontario microcosm) is already saturated with dedicated, talented uber-art geeks creating objects of extreme beauty. And a whole lot of worthless crap. So it goes.
Of course, today there’s tonnes of stuff I’d wished I’d purchased. Especially small things like pins and mini-comics. Why didn’t I? Too much selection, that’s why. It was either spend nothing or spend $500. As it was, I even had a hard time giving away PLOGs because, if you took a free thing from every table, you’d be carrying home thirty pounds of fodder for your recycling bin.
I was blessed, I must say, with having excellent neighbors on either side of me. To my right were, ironically and creating small confusion, the screen-printing duo Ampersand/Ampersand. Kristine and Mark are great people and, I dare say, new friends for life. Even if I never see them again. On my left was Georgia Webber who makes very pretty books and, more importantly, fed me pastries. It was a long day and if I’d had the angry rockabilly girl from Montreal or one of the uptight scenester douches sitting beside me, it would have been an interminable eight hours.