Hi. It's me.

a little introduction

bathroom selfie with a dirty mirror. classic.

Dating apps have ruined my ability to introduce myself.

Thanks to this list I wrote for “You’re Doing a Good Enough Job,” there’s some new friends here. And thanks to writing dating app profiles and job applications, I no longer know how to talk about myself in a fun, informative way without mistaking myself for a sound bite or a bot.

At least you know this wasn’t written by AI.

Let me try again.

Hi, I’m Hope (they/them, please!) I am a non-binary, multi-disciplinary artist, living in Portland, Oregon. I write about grief, creative practice, and swimming. Sometimes I’ll tell you about the books I am reading. Often I will tell you about collage and letterpress printing. I teach online and in-person classes. I make zines. I have an ongoing monthly postcard project called Keep Writing. You can see all this on my website, hopeamico.com.

Beyond that little blurb of a bio, here’s some other fun things about me, maybe things that are new to you.

Now you know one thing: I can ramble. I’m going to make a list of a few others. I also like lists¹.

Three things you should know about me if you’re going to stick around.

First, I love a good story.

I can tell a good story. I began writing zines in high school, read in poetry slams in the late 90’s, and started printmaking to make fancier zines.² I learned letterpress and papermaking and stone lithography ³, but my first love is storytelling. Ask my friends who receive daily voice notes which require follow up questions and, ideally, diagrams.

Also, I tell sad stories. Not always. I write a lot about grief. I write things that make people cry when they read them at my table at events. My market table covering is a thick teal cloth with small white polka dots.

the table cloth and a dry eyed customer

The combination of sad themes and bright colors has led me to referring to my style as “polka dot goth.” I like late nights, black t shirts, and pink sneakers. I want to tell you about sad things with a little something funny, too.

Second, I prioritize creativity, often over an end product.

Not that I don't finish things. But that I like to make things. And I like to have space to make things. And I like you to make things too, especially if you don’t think you can.

a few of my workspaces over my 6 years in Portland

I have had a studio, or work space in my house for writing and gluing and printing, for most of my adult life. Sometimes that looks like gocco printing at my kitchen table in Milan while my roommates are out dancing, and sometimes it is a space for my press, flat files, books and all the collage materials I’ve gathered. For a few months during COVID, it was a camper in my driveway. It changes as I move, as I teach more online than in-person, and with what I need. Currently, my studio is the back room of a one bedroom apartment in Portland. Come over for tea sometime! I have an adorable home, with a couch and bed for sleeping, all in the front room, like a self-contained apartment.

Why separate space for making? It’s my job! And I don’t like to work where I eat. I also don’t like to look at my half-finished projects when I am about to sleep. Or when I have guests. Even when my workspace has been a board across two cinder blocks in my room, I have had space that is just for making.

When I teach, I encourage students to create space to work and to make stuff even if it is terrible. I think you have to make some bad art before you can make the thing you are trying to make.

I might be wrong. I don’t think I am.

a recent letterpress student’s print

Three, I am a good teacher.

Years ago, when I worked at a community bike shop in New Orleans⁴ , I realized that my strengths were not in my mechanical skills. However, I could explain how to fix a flat tire over and over and not be bored. I also figured out how to organize information in a way that made sense to most people. After 20 years of teaching, and a head injury that made me reassess my communication skills, I still love teaching intro classes. Lucky for all, I no longer teach bike repair. I am patient, and responsive, and love the questions students ask. I still think teaching is fun.

Lightning round!

Quick facts linked to previous essays, if you like more words.

• When I say I like swimming, I mean floating,

• I didn’t even begin to tell you that the secret of art is community.

• We know capitalism is terrible for people. Here’s how I deal with it in my business of teaching.

• In 2021 I sustained a head injury and it changed how I think.

Enough about me.

Tell me about you. What’s good today? What is keeping you afloat? Did you also choose reading at the river over housecleaning today? I’m looking forward to getting to know you.

Take care, Hope

1. I also like footnotes.

2. But not artist books? I didn’t even know about artist books.

3. WHY?!

4. Plan B forever! RIP Plan B!