Like many independent publications, Kitchen Sink began as a labor of love — a creative project started by a group of like-minded friends.  Founded in Oakland, California, in 2002, the quarterly, nonprofit magazine geared toward “people who think too much” featured articles on music and art, film and food, local culture and international politics.

The publication became a program of the Neighbor Lady Community Arts Project, an Oakland-based arts organization. As a result of the staff’s dedication and tendency to broaden — rather than narrow — its themes and content, Kitchen Sink quickly asserted itself as a bright, free-spirited magazine, or, as one journalist described it, a “zine that went to graduate school.” Via grass-roots involvement, various partnerships, and some well-attended parties, the staff worked to make Kitchen Sink more than just a magazine: It was ultimately a tribute to, and enabler of, dynamic community.

It’s these community-forging publications that leave a particularly noticeable void when they cease to exist. Lest the past tense has failed to give it away: Kitchen Sink no longer exists. It too was a casualty of a now-familiar set of factors: a decrease in ad revenue, dwindling subscription numbers, and the dissolution of the Independent Press Association (announced early last year). As you’ve probably read, this unholy trinity of causes has spelled the demise of many independent publications over the past year or so.

It makes one wonder what happens to the people who labored over these publications and the communities that sprang up around them. In some cases, staff members go on to explore other forms of publishing, e.g., blogs and online journals. Others spend time writing or researching different modes of print publishing, such as POD (print on demand). Undoubtedly, some people — especially those who’ve devoted decades of their lives to indie publishing — just need a break from it all.

I caught up with two former Kitchen Sink staffers who shared what they’ve been up to since the magazine ceased publication.

Jen Loy was a founding Editor in Chief at KS, as well as a writer and event coordinator. She was also coproprietor of Mama Buzz, a café and gallery (and former Kitchen Sink clubhouse) in downtown Oakland that has been credited for invigorating the city’s art scene and being a “nexus for all things artistic.” These days, Loy is taking it easy.

“I’m proudest of our success as a creative community,” she says of her friends and former coworkers at Kitchen Sink, describing how they’ve gone on to publish books of poetry and comics, do curatorial and design projects, and start journalism school. “As for me, I’ve learned to say ‘NO.’”

After Kitchen Sink folded, Loy sold Mama Buzz and moved to Richmond. She’s not far from Oakland and other KS alumni but decided to “purposefully withdraw” from collaborative, community-based publishing/art/writing projects.

“I’m currently focused on a professional publishing venture and specializing in health care and labor issues,” Loy says. “I’ve survived a few photography classes and have been challenged by a friend to write creatively again. I’ve written a few art and culture pieces for Bay Area publications, but mostly I’m saying ‘NO,’ which is new for me.”

Kaya Oakes is another KS staffer who’s busy working on individual writing and publishing projects. A former senior editor at the magazine, Oakes is currently writing a book about independent culture, which will be released by Henry Holt sometime in 2009.

When I contacted Oakes, she was about to dive into her chapter on independent publishing, so we discussed current ways of making indie media. Oakes affirmed that the web plays a vital, simplifying role in the way of publication and distribution. “The logistics of mag publishing are just ridiculous, and the cost is getting harder to bear unless people want to keep things very small,” she says. “Even with Kitchen Sink’s initial print run of only 2K, we had a really hard time paying the bills. When this increased to 10K, we were hopelessly in debt all the time.”

Oakes was also quick to add that print publications need to be supported and sustained, but perhaps they need to scale back a bit: “I do continue to believe in print media, of course, but I also think independent print media have to think micro these days to survive… I’m also a firm supporter of POD, which is going to be a method of survival for a lot of small presses.”

Both Loy and Oakes cited examples of indie publishers and publications that have inspired them lately: Ugly Duckling Presse, Action Books, and Flood Editions (all tiny literary presses); Make/Shift, a feminist magazine founded by Kitchen Sink staff writer Jessica Hoffman; Other, the project of another KS affiliate Charlie Anders; and Watchword, a literary journal published by Watchword Press.

Although Kitchen Sink has sunk, its hardworking staff members continue to pursue projects that will no doubt improve and enliven their communities; they’re just approaching them in perhaps quieter, more individual ways. As for her “Just Say No” phase, Loy says, “I predict this will last for about 12 months. And then, who knows? Maybe the world will be ready for another publishing project.”