Help Support Pegacorn Press on IndieGoGo!

I've recently posted a campaign on IndieGoGo to raise some funds for Pegacorn Press. Please repost and help me share this with as many folks as possible.
Thanks for all your support!

With love,

Caroline Paquita 

First post on the new blog!

BONJOUR!

Welcome to the official home of PEGACORN PRESS- a small queer, feminist, total-art-freaker publishing house that specializes in small-run art books, comics and zines. There's quite of bit of work going on in the background of this project, in order to get it fully running by the early Fall. As more information is sorted out, I'll be posting it here on the blog.

I'm hoping that P.P. can be a means to find out about folks who aren't often represented in the arts, or who aren't traditionally given enough opportunities to share the work they do. After years of doing self-publishing on my own, at this point, it only makes sense to share the resources that I have (a high-speed duplicator) to help others out and make their work more accessible.

Miss Riso, in the workroom of Port Quincy.

WHY THE NAME?

A quick search on the inter-shit will reveal that there are many people in the world that are intrigued by the PEGACORN. I became familiar with this mythical creature not through a love of horses or unicorns as a kid, but as a pre-teen, who was trying to scrape together a couple bucks through babysitting.

Back in the tropical heat of Miami, I used to regularly take care of the daughter of a minister. She would always draw these magical creatures on scraps of paper and I collected her little scribbles. About a decade later in life, I got one of her mermaids, complete with broccoli-like bushels for hands, tattooed on my leg. Then, one night, in a furious passion- while blasting BLACK FLAG and drinking SPARKS in my "office" (a half-broken bathroom at the Otto Haus in Gainesville)- I gave myself the PEGACORN tattoo. I copied her little drawing onto my arm and just went for it. It was kind of a crazy scene and my roommate happened to walk by as I had entered the "X-acto blade phase" of all this. Cautiously she asked, "Whoa! Are you okay?" Ha! Yes! It was a great moment of pure, unadulterated madness and joy! I had finally tapped into the Pegacorn portal and I've been there ever since.

For years, I didn't even know that there was an official name for this creature and thought that I made it up on my own. It must have crept into my mind somehow? Undoubtedly, in these days where images are everywhere, there must have been some kind of cultural unconsciousness at play. Most likely, the local carnival that I went to every year had those mirrors. You know the ones that were given out as prizes- that is, if you could actually win any of the totally rigged games? Picture a dainty and whimsical looking Pegacorn breaking out of a rainbow (or some other cosmic-looking environment), next to a RATT or PRINCE mirror, framed in a cardboard sleeve....

Prince: a tiny man full of SEXXXY talent!

I'm sure that long before I was born in 1980, some stoner ("tripping balls" on acid) actually met a Pegacorn... on another astral plane of course. This encounter was later captured on a mirror, in several different versions, through the long-forgotten technique of airbrushing. Surely, one of these mirrors was at the carnival and while I played skee-ball and won goldfish (that were destined a short, unhappy life), glimpses of this illusive creature, shimmering in the bright lights, most likely entered my subconscious. Who would guess that years later, much like a "carny," I'd be spotted with stick and poke tattoos, and still be on the prowl for all things rare and magical? Always looking for a way out of the dreariness of our sick society and into the MAGIC ZONE.

Permanent magic, in the ancient form of the stick and poke tattoo.

In regards to the "quality" of this tattoo? I do have to say that no matter how janky it might look to some, it's still one of my favorites. It's been a good way to help filter out whether people "get it," or not. I know that the grannies, kids, and everyone else who gives the nod, is familiar with the secrets of imagination and of how fun life can be. Only jerky, boring folks- particularly business men- like to make sure to let me know that it looks like "shit." Thanks! Have fun being a jack-ass and by the way, didn't your mom ever teach you the golden rule? If you don't have anything nice to say, keep your trap shut! Ach! 

I'm going off on a rant here, all New York style. Writing extended entries on the inter-shit will do this to my brain- my apologies. I know that this was a long winded, round-a-bout story, but perhaps this sordid tale has helped explain the name? If not, then let me sum it easily: naming the new publishing house after this mythical beast only seems like the right thing to do. If you choose a name in order to influence a personality and/or outcome, then the hope is to harness the magic of the Pegacorn, combine it the creativity of amazing artists, and then lovingly print the hell out of it. Now, it's time to get back to drawing!

XOXOXOXO,
C.P.

As always, I'm on the lookout to meet more women, queers, radicals, woo-woo spirited folks, artists, comics, and all around badasses, so please email me if you know if people I should check out: pegacornpress(at)gmail.com