The Smudge Edition

Izzy Fradin (IF) lives in Chicago and works loosely in the music and design fields as a part of Space Crafting, Varyer, and recently, abracadabra!. She loves bonfires, Van Morrison, and celebrating the creativity of her friends 𑜸.

Izzy here. This past June, I met Jenna Chusid in person for the first time. Jenna was a friend I felt I’d known for ages, even though our exchanges had been confined to snail mail and the occasional Instagram DM over the course of four years. 

Our friendship began when Jenna responded to an ad I’d placed in the classifieds section of a magazine called The Smudge, offering to make playlists for anyone who would send me two songs they were jamming on. Jenna was one of a handful of folks who took me up on my offer, and our mutual love of King Gizzard, Donovan, and Dr. John led to an incredibly rich, supportive, and karmically divined friendship.

Why is this interesting?

Being out in the world and mentioning The Smudge has proven to be a sort of litmus test for being “in the know” during a particular period in the late 2010s when print media and the visual arts scene collided. Folks who used to subscribe light up at the mention of the magazine, and will quickly reference their favorite contributions, or reminisce on the glory of the classifieds. Most have a story of an item they still own that they sourced from those beloved back pages, or at least a connection they made.

The magazine was created in 2017 by Clay Hickson and Liana Jegers, a creative (and romantic) duo originally based in Chicago, but who had made their way out to the Los Angeles area. Slowly and steadily, it became an essential hub for discovering multidisciplinary artists, all curated by Clay and Liana.  From essays on the science of coziness to slapstick comics, each issue was a canvas filled with musings, reflections, and images that felt as nourishing as a well-balanced meal. For those of us who, as the internet sped up, cherished the tactile joy of flipping through pages and finding hidden gems in each corner, The Smudge was more than just a magazine—it made mail day magic.

Clay and Liana embraced wabi-sabi as a foundational principle of sorts: there were occasional typos, or hiccups from their use of riso ink rather than laser. It humbled the magazine in a way that made it feel more accessible, and less like a formal, untouchable Media Entity. Classifieds were submitted to Clay via Instagram DM, the cost was kept as affordable as possible, and anyone could pitch an idea. Everything about it fed into this idea that The Smudge was something sincere, something special.

In April, I connected with another friend I’d never actually met in person. Her name is Maddy Underwood, and she had a layover in Chicago and asked to grab coffee. Pretty early into our conversation, The Smudge came up, and we lamented that since it shuttered in 2022, nothing has really come to take its place. Following our conversation, I was able to connect with Clay and Liana, who generously gave us their blessing to launch our new attempt: abracadabra!, along with oodles of advice, perspective, and lessons from their five years running the magazine—and they were sweet enough to write a post-mortem on The Smudge for our first issue.

I don’t know if Abracadabra! will live up to what The Smudge was, but I hope at least a sprinkle of the magic Clay and Liana cultivated makes its way into our pages. For all of The Smudge’s readers, for our readers, and for the pen pals and eventual in-person friendships we hope will emerge from our classifieds. (IF)

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Thanks for reading, 

Noah (NRB) & Colin (CJN) & Izzy (IF)

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Why is this interesting? is a daily email from Noah Brier & Colin Nagy (and friends!) with editing help from Louis Cheslaw about interesting things. If you’ve enjoyed this edition, please consider forwarding it to a friend. If you’re reading it for the first time, consider subscribing.