We Need to Unlearn What We've Been Taught About Making Art

Zinemaking as a doorway to creative expression.

I used to believe that I wasn’t an artist. I’d look at my art and think, “Ugh. This is pathetic!” I took a few art classes. I considered going to art school, but I kept coming back to the idea that we are born with the ability to create and make art. It’s just that we’ve been socialized into thinking that “real” art or “good” art has to look a certain way. But when we draw as children, no one (in their right mind) looks at our drawings and says, “That’s not good.” or “That’s not art.” If anyone has said this to you, know that they were wrong, and what they should have said was, “I love it when you draw. I’m going to put this on the fridge so that we can all enjoy your art.”

One of my favorite videos about this topic is a presentation that Michele Cassou (an artist and teacher) gave at the Exploratorium in San Francisco, where she talked about the magic and mystery of creativity and the creative process. Michele said that when children first arrived at her class to paint, they tended to repeat what they were taught in terms of design. They repeated what they were told was beautiful. They painted flowers, plants, or a bowl of fruit. They painted superheroes. She noticed that their paintings had no life in them. They lacked feeling and a sense of adventure.

Michele worked with the children to unlearn patterns they had absorbed from adults. She helped them to access their intuition so they could express themselves more deeply. In the video, we were shown examples of art that children created before vs. after they learned to follow their own creative instinct. The difference was compelling.

I love the idea that we can overcome conditioning (somewhat, at least) and tap into the primordial wellspring of our creativity. When I create, I often have pre-conceived ideas about how things should look or should be, but I’m much happier when I can create from a place of raw emotion. I find that certain creative modalities help me do this more easily than others, like writing poetry, street photography, and zinemaking.

Zinemaking as a Doorway to Creative Expression

If you’ve never heard of zines and zinemaking, please allow me to introduce you to this powerful form of creative expression—one that anyone can participate in, regardless of age or skill level.

What’s a zine (pronounced “zeen”)?

A zine is a handmade booklet on any topic, in any format. You can be as creative or uncreative as you want. You can use excellent grammar, poor grammar, or no grammar (e.g., photography or collage zine). You can make one zine or many to share with friends, to trade with other zinesters, or to sell at one of the many zine festivals (yes, these are a thing) around the world.

I love reading zines, especially perzines (personal stories and opinions), mostly because the stories are raw and honest. The creative expression, even the language, is spontaneous. Unfiltered. And, since zines have fewer pages than books, creators tend to get right to the point—no doddling around.

I also like the messiness of zines—their imperfection. Some are beautiful and well-put-together, but even the odd-looking and disturbing ones have something essential worth exploring.

Whenever I attend a zine fest, I come home with 30-40 or so zines, then I devour them in one sitting. I have acquired a substantial collection from all over the country, and many from Spain (my happy place)—mostly perzines, but also minicomics, mamazines (about mothers and/or motherhood), art zines, compilation zines, political zines, fan zines, literary zines, and a few other genres.

My Zinemaking Journey

I made my first zine when I was 13 without realizing I had made one. I used to spend summers in Florida with my dad (after he and my mom divorced), and while he was at work, I hung out with my cousins. One time, my cousin Lauren and I made a family yearbook filled with pictures and funny captions. We made several copies and distributed them to family members. We had great fun and kept ourselves busy for a few days.

I find it fascinating that 40 years later, my artistic style still looks the same—imperfect and child-like. Here’s a drawing that I made a few years ago of my family tree (if we were animals).

In 2006, I made a comic book about living in San Francisco with my husband Jeff (we moved to the Bay Area in 2003 from Gainesville, Florida). We were superheroes, of course. Below are the first few pages.

I didn’t realize I was a zinester until just before the Covid-19 pandemic, after attending my first zine festival in San Francisco on September 1, 2019. I realized then that I had found my people. 🥳

I was one of those individuals who enjoyed having an excuse to stay home and not socialize. During the year and a half we were in lockdown, I made at least a dozen zines. In 2020, I participated in the virtual SF Zine Fest, then in 2022, I tabled at their in-person event.

In 2019, I started a nonprofit organization where I led zinemaking workshops at schools, companies, and nonprofits as a way to foster engagement and deepen relationships. I have yet to find a creative activity that puts people at ease so quickly, especially one that nurtures the playful, child-like part of us. Making zines is a great way to help people connect with that deeper, more authentic part of the self that Michele Cassou talked about in her video, “The Flowering of Children’s Creativity.”

I hope you take time to make a zine (or two or three)!

Additional Resources

• How to make a zine by Rona Akbari