Atelier 404

Hello, My Love. You’ve gone by many names. A was your first, then Monkey, though perhaps others in between. We’ve talked for hours about the world we want to live in, seemingly so far away, yet where do we currently reside? This seems like home to me.1

If you are not A, hello to you, nonetheless. The purpose of these words is to demonstrate value in existence. The technicality with which this is proven will be no more rigid than a conversation with a stranger– imprecise and unexpected. Whatever thoughts you conjure during this encounter will remain yours. Like Miyazaki, I ask you to enter, submit, and surrender.2 When leaving these pages, you’ll regain all faculty upon which you arrived. I must also note, you may leave at any time. No words, ideas, or insights I divulge can bind your feet to where you stand. But I want to show you there is strength in relinquishing power. If you’ll allow me, I can promise you a world. Beyond this I cannot qualify.

It’s true I have yet to demonstrate my worth. These pages, despite fervent effort, may never accomplish this task. Why give time, a sacred commodity, to one of presently dubious intent? Because I’m asking you to. You see, I cannot sit still– I am at the whim of my attention, in pursuit of devotion.3 For it is the teachings of Miyzaki, Oliver, and the others I have yet to invoke that have taught me how to assign my attention and construct meaning from the experience.4 My plea is not only to you but to myself, begging I act on this impulse.

In Jon Batiste’s 2022 Grammy acceptance speech,5 he spoke on how the creative arts act as a radar in reaching people when they need it most. Could this not also be true for the artist’s endeavour– is the act of creation finding me in this finite moment? I say finite because, in five months, I plan to swear in as a Peace Corps Volunteer and live in Guyana for 27 months. Atelier 404 will once again exist as a blank room located at 1660 East New York Ave, advertised on a website to prospective renters with dreams of grandeur. However, it is this exact impermanence which provides freedom. Only our desire to pursue expression, and how we shape our lives to meet that end, can manifest in actualization.

Notes

  1. This was the hue A chose to denote the color of the pen used in writing their first poem to me. As if to say the words were not allowed, and would fall apart when spoken to the wind.
  2. Hayao Miyazaki, Hayao Miyazaki et al. In my mind, I have not yet seen enough films to justify rewatching the ones I have seen– Miyazaki films are the only exception. Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, Spirited Away, and Princess Mononoke are my favorites.
  3. Upstream, Mary Oliver. I believe she will indefinitely remain an influential force in my life. Gifted by longtime friend and filmmaker Jacob Gusentine. https://jacobgusentine.com/
  4. This Is Water, David Foster Wallace. I attended Kenyon College and graduated in 2020. David Foster Wallace gave this speech during Kenyon’s 2005 commencement. How we construct value from our experiences is within our capacity, though not without difficulty. This is perhaps the greatest takeaway from my four year physics degree.
  5. American Symphony, a documentary following Jon Batiste and Suleika Jaouad, directed by Matthew Heineman.