I'm impressed by things that are made by hand. If it has a personal, handmade touch to it, I have a tendency to think that it's unique, and I like it more. Now that all the prejudices are out of the way....

Tinna's first issue of I Think I Am happens to be her first zine. Ever. It has great airbrushed gold-and-purple covers, signed and numbered in a limited edition of just 20. (She had the advantage going into this review as a result. See the first paragraph.) It's quarter-sized, filled to the brim with content and clip-and-paste collage art, and has a deeply personal bent. The difference I've noticed from some other perzines is that her writing doesn't need to shed tears in order to be powerful or lasting. She's got stuff here that resonates with me on a very low chord, but doesn't have to draw blood.

The first run is plagued with tech problems -- I won't lie. There are pages out of order, cut off words, some disorganization and a lack of focus overall. It's common, in my experience, to struggle with these smaller details while the larger issue -- finding one's voice -- is more at the forefront. This issue of finding a narrative voice is coming together for ITIA -- the second issue will undoubtedly have the tech problems hammered out. After all, practice makes perfect.

That said -- this little zine is charming. That's the best word I can come up with to describe it. "Cute" is too demeaning and "great" would be an overstatement. There are hilarious images, personal lists (and as I'm a listmaker myself, seeing others' really excites me), writings about crushes and sisters and journals and even an article about staring. One of my favorite parts is an article on making your own time capsule as a "letter" to the future you.

I'm looking forward to watching ITIA's evolution. For many zines, the first issue is a sort of cocoon or chrysalis, not so good on its own, but good as the raw material from which the beauty emerges. If this is the "raw" stuff, then it'll be one to watch.

Order by send $1 plus postage to Tinna at 8 Naylor St., San Francisco, CA 94112.

[ by Elizabeth Badurina ]