
Every once in a while, I stumble onto something that reminds me why print will always matter. Plastikcomb is that kind of discovery — a fiercely independent magazine for contemporary art, collage, and experimental design that’s as tactile and daring as anything I’ve seen. Published between the U.S. and Germany, Plastikcomb embodies the kind of cross-continental creative alchemy that makes art feel both intimate and universal.

(Pic #2) Title page for profile on artist Rick Granados
I found my first issue one quiet afternoon, reading in bed, and by page three I was obsessed. The cover bursts with texture — bold type, torn edges, and wild collisions of photography and typography. Inside, the layouts twist, flip, and defy logic. Fonts turn sideways, interviews run upside-down, and paragraphs drift like scraps of conversation. Every spread feels alive — unpredictable, imperfect, beautifully human.
That’s what I love most: Plastikcomb doesn’t chase polish or perfection. It celebrates the rough edges — the analog gestures that make art feel hand-touched and honest. You can sense the fingerprints of its creators, Aaron Beebe and Thomas Schostok, across every spread. It’s print as playground — a reminder that paper, ink, and chance still have the power to surprise us. But sadly, they only publish twice a year.

For fellow artists or anyone hungry for new ideas, this is a must-find. Each issue feels like a limited-edition object, something to live with and revisit. You can track it down through their website (https://www.plastikcombmag.com/ ) or start stalking booksellers at Barnes and Noble where I got mine. (It was the last one and I nearly had to fight another artist for it.) Trust me: once you open it, you’ll want to start cutting, painting, or scribbling something radical of your own.
I

(Pic #4) Painting by artist Sameena Sitabkhan, featured in Issue #8 Plastikcomb Magazine 2025











