Elan Kiderman Ullendorff, Alicia Guo, Max Bittker and collections
I was nervous when I last week announced Naive Yearly. It is a gathering for the web I care for, and eight people I admire deeply travel to Copenhagen to present their work. I am still nervous: I'm lucky if I manage to cover the cost, and during the past five months, I poured a lot of attention into every single detail.
Therefore, it is touching when people from Sweden, Austria, Germany, Portugal, and the USA buy tickets. It is also encouraging to notice how many people plan their trips alone. I acknowledge that everyone can't make the journey or commit a workday to the quiet, odd and poetic web, but I promise to welcome anyone who does with flowers.
A sound that never was is shaped by weather and seismic activity.
Sun stream is a 24h song (or sung?)
Warms is all you need for a Sunday break.
A celebration of the Internet of public Google docs. It is the perfect post, in the perfect newsletter, about the perfect topic. I cherish the description of creating and sharing docs as a practice of digital zine-making and encourage you to experiment with the “Publish to web” function of docs — and to embed the iFrame on dedicated domains.
A doc is a map. A doc is a playlist of experimental films and videos. A doc offers ideas for how to teach ceramics making virtually. A doc sends masks to prisons. A doc is email correspondences between My Little Pony characters. A doc is a place to put texts you want to send to your ex. A doc is a list of things to do after prom. A doc is a poetry mixtape. — Elan Kiderman Ullendorff
In a time where newsletters are evolving into standalone media empires publishing lengthy essays with fragrant titles to catch new readers, I desire more infrequent public diary updates from family and Internet friends like Alicia’s latest post. Her tone is as soft and tender as her digital poems.
I thank my lucky stars that I didn’t get funding this semester and was able to try out this alternative life. — Alicia Guo
Everest Pipkin lives on a farm in Texas and makes web wonders like The Barnacle Goose Experiment, a clicker game so good I now include it for a second time under the disguise of a game review article.
Towards the end, I even felt overwhelmed by my Eden, losing track of what everything was doing in a world grown larger than I had ever intended. Now I understand why the gods are so hands-off. — Alice O'Connor
Thank you Maya for becoming a paid subscriber.
For Naive Yearly I’m looking for volunteers, partners and surprises. I accidentally deleted an email (maybe several) this week, so if you wrote me and didn’t get a reply, please write again at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Last week this letter was sent to 1549 inboxes. I’m keeping it donation-based and it will always be free for everyone. Currently, thirty-three people support me with a paid subscription. Logo by Studio Hollywood. Photograph by Ana Šantl.