In the fifth grade, my crush told me I had the hands of a wise crone.
Except instead of “wise” he said “GROSS” and instead of “crone” he said “YOU HAVE OLD LADY HANDS.” In that moment I vowed to one day start a small publishing shop for books that I write then fold with my crone hands despite their debilitating inability to cut in straight lines and make a collection of things uniform before giving up and calling their imperfections “art.”
And, well, see?
Dreams do come true.
I’m Karen Bolipata, a writer and cartoonist who writes funny things. Sad things. Funny and sad things. When I turned 40 I launched CRONE HANDS BOOKS, partly to own the inefficiency and unprofitability inherent in artmaking (because, fuck our robot overlords!). Mostly because my dream is to be one of those old ladies yelling at the youths for running up the subway stairs too fast. My work centers around being an outsider in an absurd world told in comics, memoir essays and/or photos. Sometimes, though, I’m just writing 3,000 words about overdue library books. When I’m not in the studio, I can usually be found in the beloved shitty apartment I share with my husband Franco, our furry son Henri, and our recently launched human son Milo, in Queens, New York.
See more of my work at karenbolipata.com.
Questions?
Comments?
Cute vibes?
✉️ Send ‘em to cronehands@gmail.com