i am not a writer (2023)

I am not a writer, declares the author in this essay that was demonstrably written.

Cover of I am not a writer
cover, letterpress

Once published online and branded a type of “disability essay,” the creation of this Japanese-stab-bound vertical book reclaims the essay, and undoes its publication.

Flapping pages with text
Laser on kozo paper

It becomes an artist book. It is edited, augmented, rewritten, before every reading and printing. Images from medical records and occupational therapy are altered, queered, and reimagined through printmaking techniques like riso, letterpress and relief. The book is bound and stitched with swollen fingers. With every new iteration, the author writes about what’s happened since the last one – it is a continuous work-in-progress, much like the body is continually aging, changing, and evolving.

riso print of an occupational therapy exercise
riso on paper, one of a series collaboration with Lorena Mostajo

In the essay, the author deconstructs the notion of ‘writing advice’ and ‘writing process’ as elements of ableist productivism directly at odds with peace. Framed by the Marxist ideal of work and play being married, the narrator/complainant presents elliptical notions of writing as work, and disability as an anti-work paradigm.

Book lays open on table
japanese stabbinding (noble pattern)

The taskmaster tells me, don’t write for anyone else.

Writing for me would mean none at all: it would mean rest. Naps!

What an ironic misery I have created, stripping the thing I loved the most of everything I loved about it. One could say this for any great love, I’m sure.”

Sheath of book featuring a bright orange riso print and letterpress type saying "I am not a writer"
riso and letterpress on recycled paper