WELCOME READER OF THE C.C CRUMB
This zine’s makers are aware and grateful to be living and creating on the traditional unceded and ancestral territories of the Skwxwú7mesh (Squamish), the səlilwətaɁɬ (TsleilWaututh), and the xʷməθkʷəyəm (Musqueam) nations – on which the North Vancouver Capilano University campus is located. We also recognize that the university operates on the lands of the Lílwat (Lil’wat) nation, in addition to the shíshálh (Sechelt) nation.
Our aim at the C.C Crumb has been to collect, create and share honest content of a delicious assortment of mediums and subjects. We want to stick up for arts circles and encourage people to keep reading + looking at physical media and finding themselves in real spaces. We support collective learning, making and preservation. We want to avoid stagnation and forgetting.
This zine is organized and constructed by students and alumni of Capilano University. The writing, art, photography and design featured in this zine is mainly contributed by Cap U students and alumni…but this is absolutely flexible. A special thank you to this month’s front + back cover artist, Arden Ludwig — and returning centrefold creator, Jacob Brundrett.
APRIL MONTHLY PLAYLIST
This zine is currently managed by Mia Lancaster. She lives in so-called “North Vancouver” and is concluding year 3 of the Bachelor of Motion Picture Arts program.Please email her anytime at zinemanagermia@gmail.com with any ideas Or questions Or for further discussion
1. Nice Drugs by Neako
2. Set It Off by Girl Talk
3. I’m Not Alone by Sophia Stel
4. Life so far by Bassvictim
5. Auntie’s Harp by Flying Lotus
6. Everyone Alive Wants Answers by Colleen
7. Joyfull Grass and Grape by Dorothy Ashby
8. I Am Sky by Laraaji
9. Swimmers by Broken Social Scene
10. Engine by The Barns
11. Wildegeeses by Michael Hurley (RIP)
12. Duna Ma Yelema by Boubacar Traoré & Ali Farka Touré
13. 747 by Jay Curry
14. Teardrops by Womack & Womack
15. Monsieur Business by Edition
Housing is expensive, We live among viscera –Outside-in eyes watch the festering diseases, Burdened with the onus of existence’s abuse.
We live in second-hand movie halls, Where we watch Tomorrow on Repeat And no one remembers Yesterday. A climaxing orchestra lulls us to sleep, seeps into our nightmares, and rings us in for breakfast.
We live where it rains only when we wake up. Spring always leaves too soon, leaving us with its shrivelled heir. And it rains, Too late, As we wither and weep and still not drown.
At times, We live in a gaping VoidWhere our agonies languish without us. Persistent whispers expend their bland language To reduce our rotting stench into a lesser, haunting, looming memory.
We live for the Deniability; We hope and despair While packing our belongings: Nobody is Home. Nobody’s home.
