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details:
a collaborative publication or comic book
images by celso, words by sinoun
assembled by our pretty hands
5″ x 5″
black and white
56 pages
released in 2007
price (includes shipping): $4, $5 (outside U.S.)
more info:
celso and i have never met or even heard each other’s voice. this whole collaboration was possible through e-mail and postal mail. when i initiated the collaboration in late 2006, celso didn’t even hesitate. i presented an idea that celso took and made an awesome story with his unique images. i then took his images and interpreted the story with my own words and writing… and then came “free”… a collaboration we are so damn excited to share to the world!
first printing is only limited to 200 copies (each of us made 100 copies).
each issue comes with a sticker of the cover.
other stores that sell this publication:
Parcell Press (USA)
Sticky (Australia)
January 19th, 2009 at 1:59 am
Review from Zine World (www.undergroundpress.org):
“A standout comic collaboration between Celso (images) and Sinoun (words). There are multi-page spreads and lots of eye-candy beneath the color cover. This was an ambitious undertaking between two artists who have never met in person and the result is not to be missed. The graphics are bold and gritty. Celso brings a harsh urban landscape to life with his jagged edges and strong lines. The story is just as strong as the graphics. It is a poignant tale about daily grind and the fight to elevate oneself. Recommended.” –Anu
September 2nd, 2009 at 6:09 pm
From Dawn:
So I was riding my bike around Portland, and I stopped by a record shop right around the Hawthorne area. I think it was across the street from Dot’s. It had all these zines in it. I picked yours because I like the block print style on the cover and the hooded girl was riding a bike. Afterwords, the content made my train ride back to Seattle a transcendent experience. The story felt like a secret initiation into a conspiracy of future romantics. It reminded me of another time, cramped in a sweaty, dark basement of a punk house seeing some touring punk bands. Maybe I was delirious from lack of oxygen, but when the singer talked about the final song being a dedication to his friends whom toiled in seeming obscurity, I almost cried. The song title was “My Friends Are Gonna Save the World”. I never would have known otherwise the title or words because the guitars were making my ears bleed, the singers vocals were drowned, and we were all jumping and thrashing. Words carry stories, stories carry the world through time, and sometimes like yours; into other worlds. Thanks.