Vol 6 No 2 | Spring 2026

One of the tenets of Bait/Switch that we hold most dearly is the inclusion of artists of all skill or experience levels. Professional artists, part-timers, and beginners all have perspectives and voices worth listening to. Whatever their background or prior accomplishments, everyone is treated equally in this project. It’s also not insignificant that these folks are collaborating with one another. It’s an even playing field.

I’ve been thinking about this lately because of my own self-image as an artist. I didn’t go to art school or even really respect myself as an artist until my late 30s. I was a lifelong hobbyist, and then shifting priorities in my life pushed art to a more prominent part of my identity. Whether I’m considered an accomplished veteran at this point or still a newborn rookie, I will always, always be mindful of my room for growth. To that end, little by little over the years, I’ve been making changes to treat myself like more of a professional.

I do think it’s missing the point when newer artists talk to established professionals and just want to know what materials they work with. As if the type of lens makes the photographer. The artist’s perspective is far more valuable than what equipment they can afford. As a creative person, your ideas are by far your most valuable resource. You must express them using whatever materials you can pull together. This notion that you can’t start being a “real” artist until you can afford the fancy paints or a spacious studio is bullshit. You’re real now. Make stuff now. Reclaim what it means to be a “real” artist.

However, that shoptalk about art supplies is not without merit. If you paint a masterpiece in root beer on old newspaper, it’s going to disintegrate into nothingness and be gone very quickly. It’s not any less valid as art, and it shouldn’t reflect poorly on the artist, but it certainly won’t have much of a shelf life. I read somewhere that 99% of all artwork that’s ever been created in human history no longer exists. That’s a sobering thought. I don’t think there’s any shame in using the cheap stuff, but I want my work to outlive me. So I’m starting to care about what kind of paper I use. Pigments, collage materials, glue, preservation techniques. I look for “acid free” on labels now. Look at me, I’m growing!

This of course applies to all creative pursuits. Whether you’re a musician or a sculptor or a fashion designer, your ideas are what matter. Express them with whatever you have access to at this point. And if you can manage incremental upgrades, you can create things that might still be enjoyed by people when you’re long gone. We’ll see who the “masters” of this era are in a couple hundred years. Who knows – maybe they’re in this issue!

And then, just like that, it was Spring again.

What a strange way to start a letter, but that’s what I keep thinking of as I’m writing this. Somehow, an entire year has gone by since we last published an issue, and perhaps, if you’re reading this, you’re wondering why. The answer is: life. Life has continued to shift and grow, opportunities and projects have continued to multiply and change, and this project is necessarily changing too.

I’ve come to really love the old adage that acceptance is the answer. If we believe in that, we’re left with two choices: either change the things we can, or adjust our expectations to meet the factors that are beyond our control. Usually, it seems like what is needed is a combination of these things, and the challenge is to figure out which is which. Try as I might, I cannot increase the number of hours in the day, which is really a bummer for me, but is a truth I have to accept. I also cannot control how many hours it takes to put together a print publication, unless I choose to make it sloppy and terrible, and that doesn’t feel like an option.

At a time when so much bad is happening in the world, it also continues to feel like we need this. We need this community, we need radically collaborative art projects, we need the space to experiment, to get weird. And so, we’re going to adjust the format to fit the constraints. This will be our last print publication for a while; we’re going to try going back to a digital-only format to see if that will be more possible for our small but incredibly mighty team to keep up with. You don’t want to wait another year to see what happens next, and neither do we. In this sense, this does feel like a process of reclaiming. We’re going back to our roots, following the prompts, and trusting the process.

As always, this issue brings together eighteen amazing artworks of different media, which seem to relate to the theme of reclaiming. Reclaiming freedom, anger, voice, life. Reclaiming textiles, paper, and unexpected materials. Reclaiming an honest relationship with one’s body, or even reclaiming parts of other people’s bodies. These and many other themes emerge in this issue. I hope you enjoy it as much as we enjoyed putting it together.

In the words of Jeffrey Gibson, stay awake and tender.

Much love,

artWorks in This Issue

Bait/Switch is an interdisciplinary exquisite corpse project. Every work is a creative response to a piece made by another artist. The project is divided into six branches: green, blue, violet, red, orange and yellow. This map/diagram shows how the works in this issue fit together, and what came before. You can see the entire corpus on our maps page.