The first time I wandered past Philadelphia's Magic Gardens, I had just finished tabling for Quail Bell Magazine at the Philly Zine Fest. It had thus far been a weekend of exchanging stories and doodles with zinesters, cartoonists, and crafters from across the country--both an invigorating and exhausting experience. As an introvert, I needed my downtime. So I wandered, stumbling and staggering like a drunk full of too many stories. Despite knowing that the city's ripe with art and artists, I was...
The first time I wandered past Philadelphia's Magic Gardens, I had just finished tabling for Quail Bell Magazine at the Philly Zine Fest. It had thus far been a weekend of exchanging stories and doodles with zinesters, cartoonists, and crafters from across the country--both an invigorating and exhausting experience. As an introvert, I needed my downtime. So I wandered, stumbling and staggering like a drunk full of too many stories. Despite knowing that the city's ripe with art and artists, I was...
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