Zoom (Patata)

A few minutes later, Zoom opened her door, and I stepped into her studio, shop and home. Zines, handmade jewellery, tools and cushions shared the room. Phoon eventually made herself comfortable on the rug in front of my camera.

Zoom studied language and culture and worked in journalism before moving into creative work, human rights volunteering and craft. She describes a search for “the sweet spot where what I can do and what I want to do meet”.

Through femanid, a queer feminist community based in Khon Kaen, zines become a way to take control of a narrative. Zoom points out how often marginalised people are studied, observed and defined by others. Making their own publications gives them room to tell their stories, in Zoom’s words, “by ourselves and for ourselves”. The process matters as much as the pages. Spending time together, sharing materials and making something becomes a way to build relationships.

For Zoom, this is inseparable from politics. In a world dominated by AI, “making things by hand feels particularly radical.” She connects craft to histories of women’s work and traditional knowledge, while holding on to the pleasure of making things with and for her community.

A zine on the shelf, Queer Baan Nork, brings these ideas closer to home. Zoom uses the phrase to describe queer life outside big cities, where resources and meeting places are limited, communities are scattered, and close-knit neighbourhoods can make it hard to escape other people’s scrutiny.

Patata Studio gives those connections somewhere to happen. Friends have keys, and the room shifts between a workshop, a place to tattoo clients, a shared living room and somewhere to stay. When I asked what she wanted the photographs to communicate beyond being an artist, activist or maker, she wrote: “Beyond those labels, I’m a friend.”