Faking It Was Making It

In the past three weeks, I have spent more time looking at boobs, candy, and novelty penises on the internet than I have in my lifetime, on the internet or in the real world. Handy tip: Don’t just type your rambling thought sentences into Google if they end with the word “pecker.” You’ll get all sorts of surprises you may not have expected for Christmas. 

Or do, if that’s your thing. We like the weirdos here.

Other things that have appeared as regular conversation in the past few weeks: The time-traveller wants a vortex. It’s for the circus. Still waiting on the Satanist. Do you have that golden poo? Can I get a bio and headshot of your budgerigar? It’s for the mutiny. Our pirate ship, our circus train. Our wild and wonderful carnival.

I digress. 

Prior to The Carnival, Dia lured me with her star-shaped breadcrumbs and incredibly evocative style of writing into making some art to tag along with a few of her glorious stories. It was a new, little realm for me that I anxiously but very excitedly stepped into, and I quickly started noisily stomping around and bumping into things and singing songs because I was very happy. 

So when Dia asked (a.k.a. gently informed me) that while I was somewhat peacefully sleeping in my opposite timezone, I was also a part of a sort of mutiny if I wanted to be a part of the Cream Scene team, I did a lot more singing and excited, non-coherent sounds.

Like Wendy trekking off to Neverland, I was pretty dang excited to be a part of a bizarre group of ragtag artists, wordsmiths, and nonsensical glittery stuff (and to ditch Peter Pan and go be a pirate with Jas. Hook).

As Dia said to me yesterday, “We started out as fake it ‘til we make it, but we have all stepped up,” and we’ve been doing our best Scooby-Doo running (insert the Bongo Run sound from the sound files of your childhood here) and, hey hey, look, we made a magazine where there never was a magazine.

While I was working on things for this carnival yesterday, I listened to the soundtrack of a musical that I love about six times in a row, which has been described as “Blade Runner x Rocky Horror.” In a similar way, Cream Scene Carnival magazine is the mashup of my dreams. 

And now I’m standing on deck with a hotchpotch of weird and wildly wonderful writers, artists, and creators, and even though we didn’t know how to steer a ship, run a circus, or pick a metaphor, we’ve managed to gather all this splendour together.

The artistry and the writing talent of every single person involved makes me absolutely beam, and seeing each piece get unwrapped like a fun little present is a truly joyful treat.

We put together this edition—the launch of the Cream Scene Carnival in its new iteration (still captained by Dia, but she’s sharing her pirate hat with us)—very quickly, and it has made for some very late nights, much coffee, some crying, a lot of silliness, and so, so, so much joy.

I’m truly thrilled to not only be one of the carnies in this adventure, but for you all to see the magic that people have put together for our merry, but Chaos on Earth, edition of the Cream Scene Carnival Magazine.

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