You know how we love looking at an artist’s home? Or, say, their work schedule? Or how they host thanksgiving? Whatever it is that makes that interesting—that’s what I’m interested in. That intersection of normal, sort of everyday life with a certain tambor of curiosity and the way we can building meaning in and around our lived environment. Simply put: I am interested in the way people live—and especially when they do it with creativity at the center.

I’m loosely inspired by my step-grandparents (one of whom designed a house called the Tree House), my oldest best friend, my friend’s dad who I’ve never met, but whose house I stayed in once, Lloyd Kahn, The Nearings, and Martha. If some reflect on how life and creativity coexist in a theoretical way, this newsletter is the hands-on, at-times practical (at times not!), tactile expression of those same thoughts.

In one way or another, I’ve been thinking about this idea both personally and professionally for a very long time!

I’m Zinzi1. I’ve spent most of my adult life/career—and a good chunk of adolescence, too—as a writer and magazine editor. You know how people say they’re obsessed with something and it’s at minimum 80% hyperbole? When I say I’m obsessed with print, I actually mean it. I subscribe to my local paper in print and various other periodicals. I have worked at big Condé titles, smaller ones in Los Angeles, have made in-house magazines for brands, and, for about six years, I edited an indie magazine that I founded with my friend.

That’s why—even though it really strays from the proposed Substack business model (whoops!)—founding members of my newsletter get a monthly print zine in the mail. Most of the time this newsletter takes a pretty slapdash and irreverent tone, but I’ll break rank momentarily to say: It’s really important and meaningful to me to be able to tell stories in print and for people to read them. So thanks to all who support that.

The last thing you might (?) want to know about me is that I live in coastal Maine. My family and I checked the boxes of nearly every pandemic cliché (see if you can count them all!): We lived in Los Angeles and during lockdown, when the beaches and trails reopened, we quickly realized that nature is the only thing that makes our brains feel good. My family has a small cottage quite literally on the edge of everything here in Maine and my partner Jesse and I decided we had to get there—and right away. We rented an RV, packed up our then 18-month-old, 5-year-old, and 14 year-old Beagle, and headed east. We have been here since.

And now you’re here! Absolutely fantastic news. I’m so glad you’re joining me here in this space.

Options for subscription:

#1: Free and easy | Free subscribers receive weekly newsletters including project ideas, deep dives into domestic ephemera (you’ll know it when you see it), sometimes interviews, sometimes recipes, a lot of product recommendations (we call these The Source). Dispatches from the Treehouse multiverse.

#2: The Supportive Minimalist (aka “Paid”) | Paid subscribers receive the free weekly email AND, AND AND…

• Access to The Source, a password-protected, online mega-resource for if not literally everything, pretty damn close to it: everything from hardware and tiles to rugs and dog beds. Bookmarked, organized, and curated.

• You’ll also get the Sunday ~Click On This~ newsletter, with quick links and interesting things from around the internet.

#3: Mighty and Maximal (aka “Founding Member”) | When you subscribe as a founding member, you receive all of the above, PLUS PLUS PLUS….

• A monthly zine, in print, full of longer features, photo essays, interviews and projects, delivered in person, to your mailbox, by your friendly mail provider.

• Random little bits and bobs, as I find appropriate to send you, because at this point I have your mailing address and I just wanna send you a bumper sticker or whatever to thank you for the support.

COSTS?!

• Free & Easy : $0

• The Supportive Minimalist (“paid”) : $5/month or $50/year

• Mighty & Maximal (“founding member”) : $8/month or $80/year

Acknowledgement // I would be dense with regret if I didn’t take a moment here to acknowledge the privilege of “home”: its implied comfort and the existence of an actual dwelling. The category can be amorphous (home is body, community, literal living structure, family/room mates, city, country, landmass, et al.), and for many it may also not be a safe place. So: an acknowledgement of home’s complexity and sensitivity seems necessary here.

Additionally, I’d like to acknowledge the larger territory my own home and work occupies in Knox County, Maine: the traditional (and current!) location of the Wabanaki nation. Truly a privilege, opportunity, and responsibility to occupy this astoundingly beautiful place each day.