symposium

Trip Diary: Portland Zine Symposium

Thursday

When we moved to Seattle Byron's new employer gave us a passel of benefits including two free trips home. We could not quite grasp the concept of actually using the trips because Portland is so close and we go down so often, but the benefit was about to expire so we decided to use it to fund our Zine Symposium adventures. Consequently, we may have been the only people in attendance with a daily food stipend and a swanky downtown hotel room. Or at least the only ones not paying out of pocket for lodging just off the park blocks.

I finished the layout of In Time of Emergency in the car on the way down I-5 and after we dropped our stuff at the hotel we drove over to see Gabriel and Baby Sophie at our old house. We sat on the porch and passed the baby back and forth. Danielle was helping Angie move in and the girls were all off visiting grandparents and fathers; even my son's best friend from across the street was gone, in NY on vacation, and he was extremely sad not to have a playmate. Gabriel called Lli and invited her to visit with her daughter, and I took off to make copies of the zine.

When I got back to the house the evening was well established, the two kids playing intensely in the living room I painted to match the playroom in Escape to Witch Mountain. Byron said I missed seeing the elusive Justin Hocking, who said he might visit us in Seattle. Lli was in the kitchen showing Gabriel sketches and journals and I set up the zine to collate and staple. It took a full thirty minutes to realize how strange this was; Lli moved to Pittsburgh when we moved to Seattle, but all of these people are so central to my thoughts I never miss them. In my mind they are at my house, eating food and talking about art, not scattered across the country.

Back at the hotel the girls stayed up for hours making hundreds of buttons.

Friday

When we walked into the ballroom to set up our table the first person I saw was Nicole, who does the Invincible Summer zine. She threw open her arms and embraced me.

The day had secret significance; it was the fifteenth anniversary of the car accident. Who is the patron saint of accidents, the thaumaturge of skull fractures? What is the novena for neverending sorrow? I don't know, but I hugged Nicole, comrade of traumatic injury, and turned to see so many other friends, hugging each one in turn.

I had just greeted Five from Fagazine when Miranda from Burning the Letters distro walked up to say hello. I was so happy to see her I didn't stop to think, I just opened my arms and hugged her, as though I knew her better, as though I had permission. This is truly out of character for me; all the affection on top of the anniversary must have addled my brain and I immediately felt guilty for being so presumptuous. Though Miranda is as lovely and nice as I expected.

I met Rhonda from Zuzu and the Babycatcher zine, and Kate from Miranda zine, and talked to Chloe for a few minutes. The girls set up our table, with Christoph from 28 Pages Lovingly Bound with Twine on one side and Thoughtworm on the other. How did we get so lucky to sit between some of the nicest people in the whole world? We made sure the girls had money and snacks and then we left them to their own devices and went to eat at the Paradox.

Later that night we picked up some curry and went to visit Michelle B. and family and sat in her huge yard talking. She told me that people ask her what I am really like and I was astonished. People talk about me when I am not present? How strange. Tizzy and Anne and Jeff showed up with their friend Adam and we all told stories and laughed and laughed into the night.

Saturday

We were running late but met up with Kara and the others and walked over to the lecture hall to do a panel on parenting and zines.

Kate, Rhonda, Christoph & I were the panelists and Kara the facilitator. It was fun to talk with the other panelists and the audience. If I'm not mistaken, this included Kate's parents.

After the workshop I went back to staff the table while the girls attended the Selling Out workshop put on by Anne and Tizzy. I watched a steady stream of people hover a few feet away from not only my table but all the tables. The mood of the room was anxious; zine makers are not an especially socially joyous group, when gathered in large number. The people who did stop to talk and take a button were great, and I insisted that people take zines even if they didn't have anything to trade.

Byron was overseer of a grand boy adventure and Michelle B. came to check out the conference. She looked about as overwhelmed as I felt, but while I was trying to walk around with her the girls came back and needed assistance.

Inga showed up and gave me a big hug and said she moved to Portland; Ariel came to give me HM merchandise. It was great to see them both but the ambiance of the place compelled us all to step outside to chat, and then I lost track of them when I went off to buy pizza for my posse.

I talked to scores of people, friend and stranger alike, but socializing wears me out so quickly that I found myself retreating to the ladies lounge to chat with Anne and Tizzy, or sitting on the floor next to their table conversing with Jeff. It was startling to realize that I was seeking out the people I know from Seattle - the ZAPP kids, my writer friends, Five since I've hung out with him mostly in Seattle - over people I haven't seen since we moved.

Andrea stopped by the table; amazing. I've known her since she was eight and she is completely grown up now. I miss her family, and I miss all of the friends we had in common. Moving away is so difficult, and if you actually love the new home more than the old, visiting is sometimes impossible. The symposium struck me the same way I imagine people feel when they go back to a high school or college they loved. Bittersweet nostalgia ruled.

Toward the end of the day I realized that I had not managed to see Liz Defiance, many of the other zinesters I expected to see, or any of my chorus friends. I had managed to introduce Anne and Pablo, Miranda and Ariel, but the wash of people and sound and light and printed matter was overpowering. During a low moment, as I stood at the table staring at the ceiling and humming, Moe walked by and said It's okay, Bee, it will all be over soon.

We dropped the girls off to watch Bend it Like Beckham and went out with Tizzy, Anne, and Jeff. Apparently we were drinking with all sorts of super famous comics people but the only thing I know for sure is that we scared Jesse Reklaw with a story about silverware and the Queen of Sweden.

Sunday

Feather set about trading with an industry that was amazing to watch. I'm not sure of how many zines were sold on the first two days, but by the end of the weekend she had a huge box of trades and we were absolutely sold out of those we had brought. This means that 350 of my Final Tribute back issues, 30 of my current, and 50 each of the Panda zine and Lego zine were distributed. Not to mention those we were in charge of for other people. Perhaps 300 buttons moved into the world. Mina bought some sock monkeys, shirts, patches, and buttons. Both girls had been amazing throughout the event and I gave them some money to do with as they wished.

They wished to go to the Goodwill bins, a semi-magical place on the other side of town, and that meant we had to leave right away to have enough time. As I packed the table I paused here and there to talk to Chloe, then Kevin Sampsell, then some interesting new people. I felt a wash of regret that I had not managed to see Stevie or some of my other dearest friends. Since I do not know their mailing addresses and they do not use email, our communication is nearly nonexistent - I had assumed they would know I was there, that other friends would tell them. I do not want to impose more than necessary; so much has happened. I didn't know the kids who died this year, and I can't guess at the complexity of daily life in the community now that I live elsewhere.

Just as I walked out the door Bob showed up. Oh, happy moment, I do love Bob. Then as she left to go to a workshop I ran into STS and we talked for a few minutes before the girls pulled me away.

I didn't want to go, but it was time.

Anne and Tizzy had not returned but I figured we had just miscalculated. I felt strange leaving and at the last second ran back upstairs to the ladies lounge - and they walked in right after me, trying to find us.

The bins were as always a thrill. I found dozens of vintage outfits for Baby Sophie and dozens of pristine hardcover Hardy Boys for my son. Anne found snazzy clothes for herself; same for the girls. But Tizzy made the best bins score ever - a toy piano.

We ate dinner on NW 23rd on the way out of town, after we said goodbye to all of our friends. Through the window of the restaurant we saw Stevie and Erin Scarum flying by on their bicycles, too far away to hail, providing a perfect symbol for the end of the journey.

Posted by Bee at August 11, 2003 10:58 AM