bkk UNZINE Issue 29

Loving THE SUPERNATURAL

Published: 1st January 2023

BKK Unzine Issue 24 - Loss

Starting the year with the theme SUPERNATURAL voted on by our followers on Instagram was exciting. When we think of this word, we tend to think of creatures that are beyond what we believe nature has to offer, but it also reminds us of the hunger to create in humans. Because what “Supernatural” is doing is filling a void of explanation with a story or imagery. This is a good reminder to start off the year creatively.

In a world where people believe in werewolves, believe in yourself. 

Maia, Jam, Venky, Boris

Artists in this issue

Piya Profile

Steven Sills

Moe J

Gemstone

Steven

Christian

Piya Profile

Andi

Moe J

Sketchman Boris

Venky

Venky

BKK UNZINE Podcast: Movies that help you understand yourself with Boris & Venky

bkk UNZINE

As an experiment, Boris(@Sketchmanboris) and Venky(@Venkyisliving) from bkk UNZINE editorial created a podcast episode discussing movies that inspired our pursuit of finding ourself. This is an attempt to inspire ourself to create something for the upcoming bkk UNZINE issue#30. We hope you enjoy it.

Canto 10
A War Papyrus

Canto 10 : A War Papyrus

(Click/swipe on left and right to read further)

And of that fellow patient,
The Ukrainian comrade,
Fairly unscathed,
Except for the mind,
Whatever smidgen of
Compassion for his plight
Those of us in this state might have
Smudged in hate
By the perennial wailing
From his cot–the stench of the place,
Like vomit half – concealed, half – subsumed
By inordinate ammonia,
The fetid conflation,
Imagined as emanating from his bed
Because of those horrific and egregious sounds,

page 2

Not that his sounds have not been my sounds;
And with his moans, and the
Magnification of our misery,
It is myself
Reflected and objectified.
The darkness, the cold
The sleet hitting the walls,
Hitting the tarp
Of metal sheeting, he claims,
He arrogates–only he arrogates hail as his hell,
As an attack on him, an attack of
Spirits on him singularly. He would be
More sensible
Were he imbibing
Spirits instead of
Fabricating them
–The epiphany now
Coming to me
That all supernatural
Is a flaw of logic,
A rupture of conscience,

page 3

As I well would know
Before, during, and following
The following of
The occasional
Drunk Russian soldier
Surreptitiously
Down streets and alleyways,
Backways, and in every way,
For that perfect moment
When unseen I could
Slit one–slit his fucking throat and
Watch him die
For the polytechnic display
Of his red into my black,
For the thrill
Boys get out of
Pulling apart crawdads,
Able to sense the last pull required
On the rubber band
On the corpus of
A living organism that
Is the breaking point
In which life becomes death unalterable,
For the retribution
Of innocence slaughtered
And these Russian boys
Numbing themselves
In alcohol so as
To do the perfunctory moves
That marauding, pillaging soldiers do
And their peremptory demands
That our women
Fill their cracks with them
Are innocents, in some respects, too.

page 4

Although my hand
Has grabbed
The broken strap of an old gurney
Ready to whip the wailer to submission
Or give him something
Real to wail about
That would be intense
Enough to put him to sleep
I hesitate as his ghosts
Were once my ghosts–
Ghosts
Flowing out of
Brain aneurisms of
Conscience.
Supernatural, a misnomer,
For a fecklessness
A lacerated conscience bleeding–
And of conscience
A sense that even
If might makes right
The mightiest too is smashed
In the hands of fate.

page 5

Meanwhile boys from Russia
As boys from Ukraine
Are loaded into busses,
Wave and kiss their goodbyes
Through windowed barricades, and
The Napes of their
Hirsute, bristled necks
Change into something
Silvery and diaphanous, for
That which seems so real
Is not so real at all
And one might say
A spectre–human
Existence
No more concrete
Than a spectre

page 6

A bus–call it
The Christmas bus– has arrived
To take away the “recovered”
To some hospice or foster care or another
In Western Ukraine–
In a month I am told
I too will be loaded off
Somewhere–where
They do not say–

Steven Sills

Snormaid

Piya - Thorns of Grief

Crayons on sketchbook paper
Snorlax turning into a mermaid equals Snormaid. My favorite Pokémon and my favorite mythical creature.

Gemstone

The book of Spells

Animation made with A.I tools on the theme: “supernatural ” for monthly submission for @bkkunzine.
#midjourneyaiart
#runwayML
#lumafusion
#videoleap

Andi

Shine Bright like a Diamond

Piya - Thorns of Grief

Acrylic on Wood, 100 x 70
An old pickup truck, parked somewhere on an abandoned, deserted wasteland. Dusty, corroded, rundown. A real beat-up car, but in some strange way captivating and mysterious. Not a coincidence that similar cars are used as a key feature in the American TV series “SUPERNATURAL”. Two brothers driving around, in – besides others- an 1988 F-250 pickup and GMC Sierra Grande , to save the world from demons, ghosts and all sort of monsters. Big old cars which seem to hold some unlawful secrets as well.

I recently painted this peculiar classic TOYOTA HILUX in an atmosphere of strangeness, thinking what this truck may have seen. Only construction sites & materials or something darker and occult. Ufff…. Why these big alloy wheels?? Where is the owner and what the heck is he doing right now ??? Scary !!! 🙂

Christian

Walking towards the Light

Piya - Thorns of Grief

Shot on Sony A6300 – Kit Lens
This is a picture I took of my friend while walking through a dark narrow mud-road in between fields.
I instantly had the find ways to create something with my camera. My friend was kind enough to be the mysterious light in the fields.

Venky

Where?Wolf

Piya - Thorns of Grief

Digital art: CLIP STUDIO PAINT
I wondered what werewolves do after Halloween because they have nothing to do. So, I pictured this guy bored of all the possibilities offered by streaming platforms.

Sketchman Boris

Join our community

Subscribe to our mailing list to be the first to receive our fresh issues on the first of every month.