Art Book Fair
Triosophes
Detroit
Oct. 12, 2025
Among the chaos of Detroit’s Art Book Fair, one tiny, witchy zine reminded me of the beauty of small things.
I attended the event this past Sunday at Trinosophes. a local coffee shop and art space I love that’s apparently hosted the fair since 2013. Dozens of tables were set up with local and out-of-town vendors selling letterpress posters, political and whimsical zines, vintage art books, stickers, and magazines.
I went with my friend from Ann Arbor whom I hadn’t seen in a few months. Somehow, our scheduled hangout once again fell on the same weekend as the fair — we went together last year too.
Luckily, the event was less crowded this time, probably because we arrived earlier in the day. The energy in the space was alive with creativity and unique pieces, though the sheer amount of things to look at was a bit overstimulating.
I’m currently trying to save money, and can sometimes be socially anxious, so I found myself aimlessly walking in circles as my friend seemed more focused at each table.
During my first loop around, one object caught my eye: a bookmark.
Over the next hour, it kept pulling my attention back. In the end, it was the one item I decided to buy.
It may seem strange and small, but this was not any ordinary bookmark. This bookmark can not only mark your place in a book, but it is a book itself. It opens up like a zine, both vertically and horizontally, revealing a beautiful layout of illustrations and sparse, poetic text.
The cover reads: “Somewhere A Witch Wanders Wandless.” The story, created by Alex Belardo Kostiw, follows a witch's journey.
I’m often drawn to anything mystical, but this small piece felt special — quiet and distinct amid the lively, somewhat overwhelming environment around me.
It was just $8, but it felt good to support at least one of the vendors in some way.
After floating around a little longer, my friend finished their loop — with four or six full books in hand — and we went on our way.
I’m still thinking about my random hyperfixation on something so small, and that it must have been a subconscious effort to drown out the noise around me. Honestly, I love that.
