A Return to the Page: My Inclusion in Artitude PDX
- chicaballero

- Dec 9
- 4 min read
Updated: Dec 10
It’s not every day that a local arts magazine captures your attention and then invites you inside its pages. Many times, the best art is born in the cracks — in warehouse spaces, late-night conversations, handmade books, and zines passed hand to hand. So when I found myself included in Volume 1, Issue 4 of Artitude PDX, it felt like a return to a world I once loved fiercely. Creator Chris McMurry has built an incredible, lively platform for creatives in the Portland, Oregon area. Artitude PDX is an arts magazine that “celebrates artists, writers, musicians, and creatives of all kinds.” -artitudepdx.com
Chris included a smattering of art work across my many phases — earlier pieces, brand new work, and mention of my forthcoming publication/perzine, Centurion Parade, which is fully written, illustrated, and laid out, though not yet printed. Hopefully early 2026, I’ll be able to share the refined and expanded version.
Artitude PDX Vol.1, Issue 4 features the great works of cover artist Sharon Smith, George Estrada, writer and activist Katherine Watkins, and of course Chris himself — a multi-skilled photographer, musician, visual artist, writer, and independent publisher. The full list of featured creatives can be found on artitudepdx.com.
If you get the chance to support Chris McMurry’s project, Artitude PDX, please visit his site. Each issue contains 96 pages filled with creative work and vibrant voices.
Backstory
I met Chris at an antiracist nonprofit fundraiser for Exit the Maze, founded by Cole Reed, who appeared in Artitude PDX’s Volume 1, Issue 3. Cole and I go back to the late 90s in Tucson, Arizona, when she had built an incredible live/work warehouse studio downtown— exposed brick, soaring ceilings, and an aesthetic rich with natural materials, earth tones, and the preservation of history.
Now she and her partner, Day Reed, run OpenHaus Coworking in Portland — an inclusive, welcoming, creative space on NE Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard.
The fundraiser itself was beautifully executed: gorgeous décor, amazing food, and lined with community makers — enter Chris McMurry. As I wandered through the makers’ tables, my eye caught his energetic, colorful art prints and stacks of magazines.
I thought excitedly, “Oh! A zine?!”
When I approached, he brightened while answering questions about his work. We fell into a great conversation, and when I shared my own work and my history of self-publishing, he invited me to contact him about being included in a future issue. I bought two issues that day and read them immediately — thrilled to see artists I didn’t know yet. His piece about Cole was fabulous.
The People Who Crossed My Path That Night
I also met the magical Katherine Watkins — writer, teacher, and anti-racism advocate. I purchased her book Skeletons and Laundry, a raw and gutting account of her childhood. It took me time to get through, because it stirred so many emotions that needed to be witnessed.
I identify as multiracial. My parents are Puerto Rican; my mother is also part Irish and Italian. I carry tension around my colonizer roots and deep compassion for my Black, Asian, and Indigenous ancestors. I strongly believe in epigenetic trauma — inherited trauma etched into our cells.
It’s a long story for another time, but I’ve been learning to work with, process, and transmute this trauma. It’s part of my creative and spiritual practice.
Submitting My Work
When I messaged Chris, he asked for a collection of artwork images and a bio. I wrote a poetic manifesto to accompany my submission — an attempt to encapsulate the complexity of my existence and my ever-evolving consciousness. The years of mental health recovery, the uncovering of trauma roots, the development of coping skills, and the invisible work of piecing myself together — all of it is woven into my creative identity.
There were many years where I felt the world moved on without me as I put myself back together. I’m still finding community again, and still learning where I fit.
Chris’s invitation opened something in me. It reminded me of Ornithopter, the independent publication I fostered and nurtured for years before burnout and debt forced me to step away. Even if no one ever finds an old issue again, that era of my life was formative. It opened doors, built connections, and shaped the path that brought me here.
Thank you, Chris, for including me in your treasure of a project.
If you’ve gotten this far, thank you. It means more than you know.
Art communities have a way of calling us back to ourselves — being included in Artitude PDX felt like a threshold. A reminder that even after years of unraveling and rebuilding, creativity can still open new doors.
Here’s to the work we make, the communities that hold us, and the unexpected invitations that remind us who we are.
Find more from these wonderful creatives below:




















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