Hi! Back again! Sorry for dipping—as always, life is crazy; learning you have narcolepsy in your mid-twenties is crazy, so much is crazy.
Some brief housekeeping!
We are about just a few months out from Ethical Necromancy entering the world! More details to come soon—we just need to tie up a few little details.
freakazoid is going biweekly for now! We are also open for submissions—shoot me an email, freakazoidwords@gmail.com with up to ~1000 words or up to 3 images or a video or a song or or or or or, as well as a short bio!
Today: Art from Quill Na, and the start of something that I can’t quite figure out from me.
SUCCESSION
3-Block Relief Print
May 2, 2024
Quill Na (he/they) is a multimedia artist based in Davis, California. He loves to claw at clay, stomp on copper etching plates, and smear canvases with red. His work studies the body as a home, celebration of the self, movement, incorporating audience, expression work, joy, despair, and violence. Everything he creates is a mirror—whether he stands before it or you do. You can find some of his work on instagram at quilltree.
A WORK IN PROGRESS
Let’s start off with some terrible news: you are in the belly of the beast. The monsterthing you’ve sworn to slay—the dragon, probably, or the eldritch mothermass, or even the King of All Beasts—has your body, and it is holding it hostage inside of itself. See, there’s a space just your size in the crevice where you’d expect to find the monsterthing’s heart. Just seconds ago, you were trying to carve out the wretched organ with your blade, brave knight that you are, when you slipped in and found yourself here, in this flesh-ridden, twitchy space of half-exposed bone.
Your blade hits the ground; it falls against a stone, and even as the hole you carved sews itself up—a biological fact about the dragon or mothermass or beastking that you unfortunately forgot about—you hear it make impact. You can feel the steel’s tiny reverberations, even this far away.
You are alone, and you are sweating.
What do you do next?
A SONG OR TWO
It’s the eighth year of my monthly playlists—little time capsules I make for myself. In light of that, a song I discovered this month and a song I discovered eight years ago this month.
Take care!