VERSO / volume 7 - December editorial
VERSO / vol. 7 is a new form of sharing art and culture. Each month we’ll curate contributions of writing, poetry and visual art packaged along with personalized editorials and deliver them monthly.
We’re happy to share editorials and photos of already shipped packages with you here.
Hi friends,
VERSO / 7 was a gathering of work by 24 predominately artists of color spanning the gamut of backgrounds, experiences and artistic practices. What they had in common is that their work spoke to us and we hoped they would speak to the 50 humans receiving packages each month.
At first, this work was about centering and creating a platform for artists of color. All I cared about doing was creating space and more possibilities for the hopes and dreams of Black women creators. But it evolved into so much more.
What I didn’t expect was that we were also creating moments of quiet intimacy and connection for you, the receiver. For one mother of three in Amsterdam, VERSO / was a monthly reminder for her to be still and take time for herself. VERSO / arrived as a birthday gift between friends in different countries kept apart by COVID; a subscriber in Tennessee asked to be connected to a maker in Amsterdam to express her appreciation for their work on apologies back in March. My mom now knows what a zine is and has a little bit more clarity about what it is I actually do.
analog VERSO / December edition
And as much as the packages were showing up for y’all, it was showing up for me too. Something else I hadn’t anticipated. So much happened this year. I moved houses, quit my job, went back to school, celebrated my son's 10th birthday, cared for my partner when he contracted and recovered from COVID. Mourned the loss of folk too numerous to name. In the chaos, VERSO / became ritual, a meditation, an accumulation of energy. For me, sitting down to package with Versal editor Anna Arov every month became a practice. A practice of care and creativity, a practice in presence, rhythm, and diligence. A showing up to and for myself. (Also a time to gossip and eat snacks with Anna :)). It was a resistance to the chaos. A “no, thank you” to the centering of madness and distress. A “yes, please” to the centering of beauty and community.
This month’s contributors sent me their work way back in the spring, and the moment I laid eyes on them, I knew I wanted them to be VERSO /’s final word. They felt like a farewell. Like three kisses on the cheeks of a loved one that you might not see again for a while. What might you whisper in their ear as you hold them close?
Be well
Take care
See you soon
Tanatsei’s moving zine, “Gestures towards a Dream”, is an appeal for something beyond mere gestures of self care. Using text, imagery, and a dynamic sense of tenderness and play, the zine urges an engagement with our interiors and a reclamation of rest and imagination.
This is what we wish for you.
Stephanie’s riso-printed poster is a joyful celebration of Zora Neale Hurston. As a literary foremother of mine, I have learned much about being sure and clear about your own greatness from Hurston. Looking at this poster I am reminded of a scene in Their Eyes Were Watching God:
“The morning air was like a new dress. That made her feel the apron tied around her waist. She untied it and flung it on a low bush beside the road and walked on, picking flowers and making a bouquet…From now on until death she was going to have flower dust and springtime sprinkled over everything.”
This is what we wish for you.
It’s been an honor to serve as a conduit for so much color and vulnerability, so many meditations, creations, and longings this year. My heart is full. We are grateful to each and every one of you who supported this project. Please continue to sit with and follow the work of these amazing artists. Special shoutouts to our subscribers and contributors who made this possible, delightful, and roundly worthwhile. Thank you for trusting us!