We've got it all right here, folks! Everything that's ever been written up, photographed, and discussed on the Sad Mag website. Enjoy browsing our archives!



POBECole Nowicki is, among other things, just some random guy standing in line with you at a coffee shop. What makes Nowicki different than all the other people waiting for their medium drip is that, supposing he sees you do something ridiculous or weird, he will write about you, and definitely publish it on the Internet.

Nowicki began creating his Portraits of Brief Encounters as a writing exercise, eventually making small drawings to accompany them. Along with his personal Instagram, which is the original site of POBE, SAD Mag has been featuring his work online since February of 2014. “They are all based in fact,” says Nowicki of his micro-nonfiction portraits,“they all have to have some sort of jump-off point: whether it’s an interaction with someone, or just an idea I’ve had. The story comes first and then [I create] the visual.”

In the portraits, Nowicki combines his love of writing with his comedic sensibility. The portraits can be simultaneously emotionally provocative and laugh-out-loud funny. His humourous, quotidian take on the human condition attracted the attention of Yashar Nijati, founder of thisopenspace. “[Nijati] commented on one of my Instagram portraits a couple years back, asking if I wanted to be friends,” recalls Nowicki. “Eventually we met up, and we talked about doing a show based on POBE.” The two developed a kind of gallery game in which a few local artists would take each of Nowicki’s stories and create an image based on one of them. Visitors to the gallery would have to match each image to the story it was inspired by, with the chance to win a discount on any of the pieces in the show.

The first show was a success, and so was Nowicki’s practice of creating the portraits. This lead thisopenspace to show his written portraits once again at the gallery, in game format, but this time paired with visuals created by eleven different Vancouver artists. “I like the collaborative aspect, I like seeing what pieces [the artists] pick out of the story and deem worthy to put their creative energy [into],” says Nowicki, who chose the artists (some of whom are friends) by scouring Instagram and artist listings he found in the online archives of Hot Art Wet City.

“If you come to the show,” says Nowicki, “it will be the most fun you have ever had in your life. And if you’re not already in love with someone, you will find someone that you will fall in love with…You’re not going to get your money back if it doesn’t happen, because it’s gonna happen.”

While Nowicki can’t guarantee that your newfound love will be requited, the show promises to be a great way to see a bunch of talented Vancouver under one roof. At the very least, it might make a good story.

 

The second annual Portraits of Brief Encounters Exhibition and Gallery Game takes place on Thursday, October 22 at thisopenspace (434 Columbia Street) at 6 pm. Learn more about Portraits of Brief Encounters on the official website.

Incumbent margarinePolitical leanings aren’t genetic. My mother’s belief in Harper’s inflated economic record isn’t something I have to swallow and extol. I can throw it out like my Sunday school parables and call bullshit on our Prime Minister walking on water (that he’s dying to have supertankers run through). There’s no cognitive dissonance––muzzling scientists, robocalls, senate scandals, etc, after unfortunate etc, are bad with a capital PC, and I can (and will) vote in opposition. But why can’t my mother or father see fit to do the same? Are they swayed enough by bland Conservative propaganda (PROTECT OUR CHILDREN) to not see the evidence that the human shaped tub of margarine with hair in office is trouble? Or am I not giving them enough credit and they’re the ones cunning enough to see through the partisan attacks to the truth, a truth where the best option for Prime Minister of our goddamn country is personal friends with Chad Kroeger.

 

For more Por­traits of Brief Encoun­ters, look out for the bimonthly feature on sadmag.ca, visit the POBE web­site, or fol­low Cole Now­icki on Insta­gram or Twit­ter

 

 

 

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D.R.E.A.M (Design Rules Everything Around Me)

October 1st, 2015 – October 30th, 2015

Make Gallery

257 E 7th Ave, Vancouver BC

 

Make Gallery is presenting their first ever hip-hop poster show, D.R.E.A.M. (Design Rules Everything Around Me). It’s a celebration of two of their favourite things: design, and hip-hop. Great design gives a visual representation to its subject, and Make has invited 15 illustrators and designers to create original posters influenced by a hip-hop song.

 

Whether it’s parties or politics, hip-hop gives a lot of room to play. It’s a visually rich culture of sound, colour, and larger than life characters. The show draws on those elements and turns them into eye-popping spectacle. Participating designers and illustrators are Alley Kurgan, Cesar Bañares, Patrick Connelly, Jane Koo, Tierney Milne, Tina Ng, Meg Robichaud, Pamela Rounis, Camille Segur, Shawn Sepehry, Graham Smith, Katie So, Scott Strathern, Carson Ting, and Calvin Yu.

 

From plays on typography to graphic interpretations of lyrics, these posters hit on every aspect of hip-hop and design. Supported by Dominion Blue Reprographics and Framehouse, Make will be producing a run of limited edition prints of the posters. These will be available for purchase, with all sales benefiting the Community Arts Council of Vancouver.

 

Boom. A take on Wu-Tang’s classic song C.R.E.A.M., D.R.E.A.M. aims to open up the visually rich culture of hip-hop into a platform that we can all take part in. The opening reception takes place on Thursday, October 1st from 7pm – 10pm, and it’s FREE.

Make sure to check out contributions by SAD Maggers Pam Rounis (our fabulous Lead Designer), Camille Segur (the incredible Cat Issue Illustrator + Designer), and Tierney Milne (a lovely Movement Issue Contributing Artist) .

Please RSVP to helen@makeisawesome.com or via the Facebook event (and check to see the list of songs that influenced each artist to give you a glimpse of what’s in store! #drake #wu-tang #laurynhill).

SEE YOU THERE!

 

Celebration of Life

I fell down the hole. It happens. You go in with the intention of sending a quick Facebook message, then forty-five minutes later you’re still on the internet and you’ve ordered all eleven seasons of M*A*S*H on VHS from Amazon and you don’t even have a VCR. This time I was catching up on the news when I read about Harper’s Fair Elections Act. That naturally lead me to Googling assisted suicide and funeral chapels––you want to have all of your bases covered.

Eventually I found my way to the website of a funeral chapel in Prince George, BC. It was under the umbrella of Dignity Memorial, who, with over 2,000 locations, dole out franchises like McDonalds but with livelier atmospheres. The name of this particular franchise was Assman’s Funeral Chapel, because you can’t spell Dignity without A-S-S.

Immature delight aside, I’m all for the name. If when I die my family decides to have a memorial service instead of taking my ashes to Disneyland and throwing them into the air on the final descent of Splash Mountain like my will dictates, then take my body up north. The only person I want embalming me is Assman.

 

For more Por­traits of Brief Encoun­ters, visit the official web­siteInsta­gram or Twit­ter

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Katie So is bent over her iPad when I meet her for coffee on a rainy Monday morning. So is answering emails (“like always,” she sighs) which doesn’t surprise me, because the illustrator-cum-tattoo artist has already inked two of my friends and seems to be fielding more tattoo requests than she can handle. “I’m just learning about the tattoo business,” she says, “And I can’t say no to anybody, which I think I have to start doing soon!”

So helped open Black Medicine Tattoo last May with owners Joel Rich and Daniel Giantomaso, in exchange for mentorship from Rich. Vancouver born and bred, So has been practicing art since she can remember. “I always grew up in a really creative home,” she recalls, “So it was always like, everything, all creative materials were at my disposal.” Her move to tattoo work was motivated by her desire to progress her career as an illustrator. “I guess I was in a spot where I was just doing art and I wanted to…get it out there any way I could, and make money doing it,” So explains. “I met Joel [Rich] and he tattooed me. I asked if he wanted and apprentice but he [said] ‘Not really, but I’ll help you!’”

Bronchitis by Katie So
Bronchitis by Katie So

So says that attending an arts high school put her off the idea of pursuing visual art, but that she rediscovered her love of drawing during a gap year. She then registered in the Capilano IDEA Program where she realized that illustration, rather than graphic design, was what she was passionate about practicing. So was attracted to comics because they allowed her to combine her habit of creative writing with her drawings. She has since put out three print compilations of her work: Destined for Misery, Bad Boyfriend, and Attempts at Positivity. So’s work––narrative driven and punchline-heavy––is both hilarious and honest, and her ability to capture awkward moments, pathetic self-pity, and heartbreak is so accurate, it’s uncanny.“The comics kind of started almost as a way to laugh off my problems,” she says.

The magic of So’s work is that she manages to create scenes that are deeply personal but touchingly universal. Panels from Destined for Misery show a tired girl hunched over in identical positions eating dinner, sitting on a toilet, at a drawing table, and laying in bed. The cheeky caption reads “Slouch Life.” “I hated autobio comics, like: ‘I feel that way, too, but it’s just making me feel worse,’” she says, “So I guess I just wanted to approach it with an air of humour, and that was my reaction to the way I was feeling, and thats how I worked [my feelings] out. The problems are real but you should be able to step back and laugh at it a little bit and realize how ridiculous things are sometimes.” (See her panels in Bad Boyfriend to laugh out loud, and cry internally).

Eat Your Heart Out by Katie So
Eat Your Heart Out by Katie So

What makes So’s tattoo work so interesting is the dark edge that is present in her illustrations and comics. Shaggy vampire bats and dark haired ladies with cold eyes dominate her online portfolio. She can be both cutesy and gruesome in one drawing. Her somber aesthetic translates beautifully to blackwork tattoo. “I wanted to keep drawing for illustration rather than drawing for tattooing,” she explains. “It took me a while to get the effect that I’ve got in my illustration and bring it across tattooing. I definitely had to learn how to adapt designs for tattoos, because sometimes shapes of things aren’t going to work on somebody’s body. I still really wanna maintain my illustration style throughout tattooing.”

“Tattooing was one of those things I was like ‘I want to learn how to do this,’ and I just did it every day. I still have so much to learn but if you wanna get shit done you just gotta do it,” she says of her learning process. The transition to tattooing was creatively and financially necessary; it allowed So the freedom to pursue her art and make ends meet. “I’m proud that this last year was kind of when I took the plunge, like ‘Ok I’m gonna be an artist full time.’ I think I could have done it a long time ago if I had just done it but I was too scared that I wouldn’t have any money or anything. If you just do it, you figure it out and you force yourself to make money.”

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I ask So what it feels like to put her hard work on someone else’s body. “I’m always scared when I finish a tattoo and I’m letting it go,” she laughs, “I hope they take care of it and I hope it heals well because it’s my art walking around. It’s nerve wracking, but also super exciting [to] see someone walking on the street…I’m like, ‘Oh I did that!’”

So’s wisdom to artists looking to take the leap into self-employment is to “just go hang out with people you think are cool and talk to them and tell them that you think they’re cool. Chances are they already think you’re cool, too.” Her final nugget of knowledge before we bundle ourselves up against the relentless downpour: “Please, get tattooed on a full stomach!”

Find out more about Katie So from her website, or find her on Tumblr

You're In
Piss smacked the asphalt in his wake as we skated into a stretch of the bike path moonlight and streetlights couldn’t reach. A thud and “fuck!” came from the darkness ahead; someone had made an abrupt introduction with the ground. His pee-trail jumped and drew wet jagged peaks as he belly laughed at our friend, the source of the thud, writhing and cursing in front of us. He continued to laugh until his wheels hit the same watering hose snaking across the path our friends had, pitching him into air, dick in hand, urine scrawling jumbled cursive cries into the night.

 

For more, visit the Por­traits of Brief Encoun­ters web­site, or fol­low Cole Now­icki on Insta­gram or Twit­ter

 

 

Not a Winner
“Good luck.” It’s always “good luck.” Never has there been a wink and a “see you soon.” I get that that would probably be collusion or some shit, but how often do I have to come in here and buy stale potato chips and a $7.00 Quick Pick before “good luck” becomes “good job?”

Someone in Alberta is always winning. A $50 mil ticket was sold there this goddamn week––the CBC’s website made sure to rub that “news” in my face. I would do great things with my winnings. I’d rescue a shelter cat, neuter it (not myself, but with my winnings I could go to vet school and learn to neuter), buy it a really nice scratching post with three to four different levels for it to explore, then buy a house for myself so the cat doesn’t have to be trapped with me in my sweaty little bachelor suite with its three to four level scratching post blocking the way to the bathroom. I’d definitely put its litter box in the bathroom too. It’d be real cute to take a simultaneous shit with your cat.

Of course I’d donate to things if I won. Food banks. Hungry drives. My cousin’s app he’s working on that detects early onset halitosis. It wouldn’t be all about me. Sure, obviously some of it would. The authentic (and autographed) Bonnie “Prince” Billy face cast would cost a few pennies. The discovery and tapping of the aquifer on my new property would cost a few more. But winning the lottery for me is really a selfless act. Think of the cat, the hungry people, and my cousin. Deshi, come on.

 

For more Portraits of Brief Encounters, fol­low Cole Now­icki on Insta­gram or Twit­ter, or visit the POBE web­site

“No. No. This––I have my money. Take my money. Take my goddamn money.”

They wouldn’t. A man came from the back room and stood beside the cashier; they both looked anxious as they tried to explain to the man with the money why. He crumpled a ten-dollar bill in his hand and then watched as it slowly opened in his palm.

“This ain’t fair. This ain’t no fuckin’ fair.” He whispered.

“We told you, we just can’t.”

A line of tears zigzagged down the man’s face before he staggered out of the store. The cashier and I shared no words as I paid for my beer.

For more, visit the Portraits of Brief Encounters website, or follow Cole Nowicki on Instagram or Twitter

A dog sneezed and I heard its tongue slap off of its lips and snout as it walked by. The sun rested heavy on my body like the extra blanket my grandma would always insist I use over an already sweltering down comforter, “just in case it got chilly.” The group to my right was laughing and drinking beer and so was the group to my left. I felt the former were having a better timetopical humour and a charming duo of duelling Scottish accents swung it in their favour. I didn’t need to open my eyes to see how beautiful it was outside. The park was teeming with sounds of life, the grass was soft and the only thing I had to worry about was maybe getting shit on by a bird.

 

 

At first it was sincere excitement, I had finally found a quality pair of pants. The rarity of this should be noted––for me to find a pair with the right fit, loose but not saggy around my bulbous ass and thighs, is hard enough as it is, but to find ones that also stretch––this was momentous. I told the cashier that it was tough to decide between the “Modern” and the “Classic” fit but that I thought I ultimately made the right choice. He was surprisingly dismissive, responding only in grunt, which forced me to dive into greater detail.

 

“You know, sometimes you just need a little more space for your legs and I really believe the Classic fit does that for me.”

 

“I mean look at the stretch on ‘em! Look at how far I’m squatting down! Look! These are brand new! Didn’t even have to break ‘em in!”

 

“And this colour, what is it, like a deep navy? This is perfect. Not dark enough for the sun to bake my legs when I’m outside but dark enough to hide any stains.”

 

“You know how when you pee but you don’t pee it all out and you dribble a bit in your pants? I do that sometimes. I don’t think it’s a prostate thing. Either way, no one will be able to tell in these!”

 

“What? Yah, sure, they’re nice pants.” He finally conceded. Satisfied, I paid and left.