If you’ve heard the word "ecosystem" so often that it’s started to become a meaningless buzzword, have a look at a sweet, sharp, surprising new little magazine called Pokeweed and you’ll get a reminder of what it actually looks like in action.
A lot of what I know about ecosystems—the community kind and the nature kind—is thanks to Liz Blood. She empowered so many local writers, including me and many other Pickup contributors, when she edited The Tulsa Voice; she’s curated art shows in spots like the Tulsa Artist Fellowship Flagship and a half bathroom in her house; she’s been the writers assistant on Reservation Dogs and a writer for The Lowdown; she’s revived the legacy outdoor brand Okiebug; and she’s brought to life a Creative Field Guide to Northeastern Oklahoma that you’re very likely to see in the grubby hands of more than one generation of kids.
Northeastern Oklahoma had a robust and widespread prairie ecosystem not that long ago. Prairies are diverse, sustainable, mutually beneficial. They carry a history that lives deep in the soil. Far from going stale, that lineage sprouts new life every year. Prairies thrive on heterogeneity; uniformity is death. (I could go on, but this National Park Service page gives a solid overview.)
I’m a big fan of a “prairie” approach to pretty much everything: ideas, relationships, art, media, life in general. More voices, more stories, more reading, more connecting through the ecosystem of our shared life—a prairie-informed practice makes life better for everyone. If you’re looking for a particularly lively patch of local cultural prairie to hang out in, grab the first issue of Pokeweed (published by the delightfully named Anti-Pesticide Press), which features a diverse range of pieces by Becky Carman, Darren Dirksen, John Keats, Ken Pomeroy, and other human and non-human creators.
Liz is one of Tulsa’s best practitioners of this prairie way of doing things. The homemade cherry limeades, the giant pokeweed floral arrangement, and the excellent people at Pokeweed’s recent launch party at Tina's confirmed the excellent vibes even before I opened up the magazine. I emailed Liz to ask “why Pokeweed, and why pokeweed, and why now?”
The Pickup: Why did you want to start a magazine, specifically a print magazine?
Liz Blood: I missed writing to Oklahomans. I love print and print layout (or, design). And I prefer to hold what I've written or am reading in my hand. I have trouble doing either on a screen; it pains me. I am an elder millenial, after all. I also think other people like to hold something made by someone else. It's an experience that feels personal. We are meeting through this thing, which you can now carry with you into your life.