The May zine-a-month is here! The worst part of this challenge is the back-and-forth until I run out of time and decide on an idea because I know I can finish it in two days. But I finished this in two days, and that’s the best part of the zine-a-month challenge.

A little zine about my dream of a little shop. A short essay, with a list and reviews of some little shops I have enjoyed during my travels, bound up with a little drawing.

A little shop is the only way I could think to gather up all my disparate interests and do something real with them. This world wants you to pick a major, a career. It looks at you funny if you don’t have a short answer to the question, “What do you do for a living?” I do a lot of things. Sit down, I’ll put the kettle on and tell you all about it.

Apologies to anyone who has ever expressed interest in my childhood dream job of owning and running a little shop, because I’ve probably spent hours talking at you, detailing my plans, sharing my logos, and trying to wrangle you into the project. I figured it was time to put all those ideas into a zine.

Next time someone asks what I do for a living, I hope I can hand them a copy of this.

Three zines-a-month in a row, baby.

Last week, I printed out Away Game, the sequel to Home Team that I wrote last October. It’s not as bad as I remember! It needs some work, and an ending, then I need to figure out how to make a book, but I want to get it out as soon as possible. As long as the teams left in the Playoffs continue to take every series to seven games, I just might have a new story for you before someone claims the Stanley Cup.

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Words: 754

Words: 754
Minutes: 75

Three days. I forgot that there are three days left in May, not two. I need to write 5k words to make sure I don’t miss my 30k goal. This doesn’t seem like it should be hard, but I’m having a weird month. I’m going to work on the zine today, but I have all those One Direction stories that I should be able to add a few thousand words to. Even if I skip ahead and write some sexy bits. It’s funny how I lost my excitement even before the whole pot smoking thing. I lost my excitement before this paragraph was done. So, what am I going to do? I’m going to make my zine today. Hopefully, I can put it out tomorrow morning. That’ll be good, because I need to share something. Actually, no, I don’t. I did just share something Cam House this week. But that’s fine.

I want to focus on that for Cam House, instead of reblogging other people. I’m going to focus on sharing how I work. And every month–hopefully more soon–I’ll share my work. I really need to do something on the Jameson Dash blog soon. I can’t let it go this long. Because I need people to sign up for the newsletter. Here’s the thing: I’m never going to get everyone on the newsletter or everyone on Twitter or everyone on Tumblr. I have to maintain everywhere. But I have to make sure it’s manageable for me. Which is why I should do a blog post on the off weeks of the newsletter. I could post something today. Do I have something for today? I can always come up with something. Ooh, maybe I’ll just take a photo of Away Game all printed out. Yes. That’s good, photo, easy, don’t have to write much.

That’s a good update. OK. That’s Jameson Dash. I’m working on Cam House. Maybe I should tweet somewhere, too. While I’m doing all that, I’m still trying to get these photos uploaded to Flickr. I wonder how many days it’s going to take. This one has already been going for an hour, at least. I mean, it is a lot of photos at once. I just threw them all up–300+ of them. But, might as well, right? I’m going to finish writing here, make some tea, sit and watch these terrible food trucks, if it’s still on. It might be over because it’s almost 11. But I can finish writing before 11, can’t I? This is paragraph three. I have two more to write after that. Two paragraphs, at three minutes each, is six minutes. No problem. I have 12 minutes left. Well, probably more like 11 now.

I’m just waiting for–there it is. The clock ticked over. hilarious that Sophie texts me to tell me the racist food truck is on TV. I could ask, which one? But the truth is that there’s only one that we’re talking about when we’re talking about it. These white brothers in DC who have an Ethiopian circus-themed truck. It’s cultural appropriation on top of racism on top of misogyny. It’s an all in one bundle. I just think that people could stand to make their own food. I mean, I love tacos. But I don’t make the best tacos. If we had a food truck, it would be scones and cookies and tea and Yorkshire pudding and scotch eggs and roast chicken and mashed potatoes. That’s what I love to eat. That’s what I cook best. I definitely want to sit down with my notebook soon and bang out all the ideas I’m gathering in my head.

I don’t think a month is going to be long enough. I think we’ll want to stretch out and explore the ideas a little more. But starting out as a tea house is interesting. It should get people in easier than, say, a laundromat or a zine shop or a whatever else. But then again–food. Food is so hard to do. I think there much be a way to do it that is skirting around the rules. Not breaking them, but working within the grey zone. Is that the right phrase? Maybe just “in the grey”? Something doesn’t sound right there. But oh well. I just want to finish writing so I can have some tea. Like, tea, right. That should be easy to make. Because we’re not selling the tea. You come in and you get tea, but you’re buying everything else in the shop.



I’ve set a reminder for the 15th of every month: Make a zine. If I haven’t figured out my zine-a-month by then, I have half a month to do it. I was thinking I’d write something about hockey. The Canucks aren’t in the Playoffs this year, so it’s just fun to watch. I don’t care who wins. I only wanted the Bruins to lose, and they’re already done.

But without the investment, the interesting stories are harder to hang onto. I could write something about Crosby v. Toews, but I think the sportswriters have that covered. There’s something to be said about Teemu Selanne, the oldest man in the league, who just lost his chance for one more Cup.

Instead, I find myself turning to cycling a little earlier this year. There’s the Giro d’Italia, the Tour of California, and another old man, Jens Voigt, 42 and still riding. (But that’s another zine.)

I love this monthly challenge because I have a lot of ideas. I have a lot of ideas spread across a lot of text files and notebooks, and the only way to get them out of my head is to make them. And the only way to make them is one at a time.





By copyrighting his property as an artwork, he has prevented oil companies from drilling on it.

Peter Von Tiesenhausen has developed artworks all over his property in northern Alberta.  There’s a boat woven from sticks that is gradually being reclaimed by the land; there is a fence that he adds to each year of his life, and there are many “watching” trees, with eyes scored into their bark.

Oil interests pester him continually about drilling on his land.  His repeated rebuffing of their advances lead them to move toward arbitration.  They made it very clear that he only owned the top 6 inches of soil, and they had rights to anything underneath.  He then, off the top of his head, threatened them that he would sue damages if they disturbed his 6 inches, for the entire property is an artwork.  Any disturbance would compromise the work, and he would sue.

Immediately after that meeting, he called a lawyer (who is also an art collector) and asked if his intuitive threat would actually hold legally.  The lawyer visited, saw the scope of the work on the property, and wrote a document protecting the artwork.

The oil companies have kept their distance ever since.

This is but one example of Peter’s ability to negotiate quickly on his feet, and to find solutions that defy expectations.

I feel like this is really important.


“The words expressly are “a pound of flesh.”
Take then thy bond, take thou thy pound of flesh,
But in the cutting it if thou dost shed
One drop of Christian blood, thy lands and goods
Are by the laws of Venice confiscate
Unto the state of Venice.”

This is super fascinating, and according to this article, at least mostly true (it’s an art magazine, so they talk about that more than the legal stuff).

Alberta is to the east of me, and BC is currently fighting over the pipeline to carry the oil to the port. That pipeline will travel through our province because we stand between Alberta and the Pacific Ocean. We take a lot of pride in our forest, but that industry is losing out to oil. The whole province is losing out to oil, actually, which has the jobs right now and most of the money in Canada. We’re working through our feelings about oil, but there’s so little room to fight, not when you need to make a living.

Keeping making art, dude. I can get behind that.


Stephen King writes a novella in between his novels. He talks about this in his collection, Different Seasons, about how he has enough writing energy leftover when he’s finished a novel to write something else, but not enough energy to write another novel. This is true. Finishing a project gives you a kind of boost I can’t explain. It’s a high, and you want to hang onto it as long as possible. Stephen Kings writes novellas as a bonus, but I write novellas as my main thing, so I write short stories in between.

This one–I figured it would take about a week. It’s been longer. My high ran out somewhere around 4k, and now it’s just the work of writing, and my brain is thinking, What’s next? What’s next? This, right here. This is next until it’s done. It’s only a few thousand words, and god knows what I’m going to do with it, but it’s a story that needs finishing. Finishing is everything. No matter how small your project, there’s a high waiting for you at the end, and it feels so good. Believe me.

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This is a problem, because hockey, perennially the little brother of the four major sports, has developed an identity rooted in what their players are not, as opposed to what they are. Not arrogant. Not selfish. Not showy. Not full of flopping, diving, embellishment. Not basketball.

Harrison Mooney, “P.K. Subban and hockey’s problematic relationship with players of color”

This is a good piece, and you should read it if you love hockey.

It’s probably a whole new essay—a much longer one, definitely—but I wanted him to keep writing this paragraph. I kept waiting for the next conclusion—I was already writing it in my head as I read—because this paragraph also describes the Canadian identity. We are a British Commonwealth, though we’re not British. We consume American culture, though we’re not American. We are a country of immigrants, though we identify as Canadians.

We define ourselves by what we are not, so of course that is how hockey defines itself, too. Hockey is us, we are hockey, and we owe it to ourselves to make both better.

The Mysterious Death of Entrepreneurship in America

The Mysterious Death of Entrepreneurship in America



Jens Voigt’s famous mantra painted on the road in Geelong, Australia, during the World Championship Men’s Road Race.

Everybody loves Jens Voigt, right? While he’s still teasing us with his “final season”, I want to put together a fanzine to celebrate all the seasons, even the ones to come. Please submit essays, poems, portraits, comics, gifs, even your favourite quotes. Whatever you make, as long as I can copy-and-paste it into a .pdf.

A few details:

– writing should be no more than 1000 words. Please submit as .doc, .rtf, or .txt.

– submit visual art (drawings or photos) as .png, .gif, or .jpg.

– include names and URLs as you would like to be credited.

– artists retain all rights to their work.

Please submit to before the end of this year’s Tour de France, July 27th 2014. The works will be collected in a .pdf and available for download. Any questions can be emailed or submitted to my ask box.

Even if you don’t have something to submit, please reblog to pass the word along to someone else who loves Jens Voigt!

He’s 42, and riding in the Tour of California right now. Get on the bandwagon before it’s too late.