Description
“This is a zine about grief.
We don’t, as a culture, know how to talk about death and grief. Of course we want to avoid it: it’s ruthless and painful and messy! It’s like a fresh wound, searing and raw! It pulls you into a darkness previously unknown & holds on tight! It’s the absolute worst.
And yet, it’s coming for all of us, eventually. We will all lose someone we love, and one day we will each be the person who is lost. We know this. It is inevitable.
I lost my cousin Will on October 17, 2021. It was the thing I was most afraid of coming true: losing someone I deeply, ferociously love. I lead a charmed life, exploding with joy and security and love. But I always feared how death would someday leave me shattered. I sometimes tried to imagine what it would feel like, a loss that monumental.
And then it happened, and I quickly learned that there is simply nothing that can prepare you for the ways that grief will change you. It is a complete upheaval of everything you previously knew. You suddenly find yourself alone disorientated in a feral, uncharted territory.”
quarter-letter, 18 pages, colour
