For every successful foray into Hollywood there’s 100 cash-strapped nightmares making use of ingenuity and offal. The rogue visionaries with a passion for film so strong that no empty pocket could ever prevent them from sharing their goopy artistry.
Jon Claytor’s main conceit is to bleed his unfiltered self onto the page. He bounces between dark suicidal thoughts and folksy vignettes about cute critters he sees on the road, but the flow feels natural.
While tarot may be best known today as a future-telling tool, it is much more than that. Meditation, personal growth and beyond. Follow your ideas to truly make your deck your own. Allow each card to become part of your own personal system of self-discovery.
Horror artist Trevor Henderson gives us a peek at the nightmare factory.
While it’s poetic enough and creates a lush mood of grimy eroticism, leveraging Lardeux’s talent for capturing sensory detail, The Second Substance’s experimentalism wrestles with the musk of the overly familiar.
Austin MacDonald’s colour choices give the pages of Squire’s Reunion a sense of foreboding. Houghton’s writing complements this. To make a recent reference for fans of swords, it’s as though the petite protagonist of Ranking of Kings popped up in Elden Ring.
In space, no one can hear you complain to HR. Olga Ravn’s The Employees is a sci-fi parable about what happens when you can never leave the office.
Not only is Cleopatria hilarious, they’re the kind and generous sort of artist who will proofread your bad poetry for you before you commit to screen-printing it.
A twist of bone. A tease of flesh. Cannibals and testicles. We sat down with the Manhunt author about survival and sinew. “It’s an unfortunate way to get publicity, but if they’re giving it to me, I’ll take it. And I’ll use it to do all the things they’re so afraid I’ll do.”
Created to challenge beauty standards, Rose Riot is a fashion and activism zine founded in Portland, Oregon that is by and for kids.
Geneviève Lebleu explores tense interpersonal relationships between several middle-aged women in a suburban neighborhood through the psychedelic imagery that so defines her lush illustration style.
K.G. Wehri drums up fear largely in service of amplifying the sexual tension. None of it is gory but at some point, the fangs do come out. These stories yield themes of loneliness, hope, staying the course and the flexibility of time.