vol. 2, no. 17 | Toxicology
My hunch is that the autopsy will show alarming amounts of nostalgia in the bloodstream.
The forensic pathologists will confirm that it was ultimately a failure of the heart—an inability of the organ to process that many good things in such a short amount of time. The clinically recommended dosage for reminiscing is 3–5 times a week, at least for someone with his constitution, they’ll say. That he was documenting, that he was culling and summarizing and editing and elaborating memories at that volume and cadence—it was bound to catch up with him eventually.
They’ll note that his was a particularly squishy heart, and, to one with a squishy heart, that much nostalgia can more quickly turn toxic. This is, they will go on, a rather common cause of death among writers of indie community newsletters. That on top of all of this was stacked a story- and reflection-driven end-of-summer picture show was unfortunate timing.
A few days later at The Company, a chaplain will come in to console the bereaved. People will punch in. Beth will serve hot drinks. Some will mourn the loss of the mostly-timely newsletter, now weeks delayed. Others will suggest that a candid group photo be taken of everyone sobbing at the loss of their collective memory, as they cling to analog copies of the archive, newly printed and laminated.
One reluctant friend will take on the task, will blink tearily through the blurry viewfinder of a recently repaired Sony, will try to compose themselves as they compose the shot. But as they look through that miniature frame—as they experience the heightened awareness of beauty that comes from paying close attention—they will hear a voice saying:
Don’t. What a soul wants is to live, to forget, to be forgotten, and then remember, far, far in the future. This clinging to the present is dangerous. Sit in this moment. Do not look too closely. Reconstruct it later.
The would-be-photographer will sob. They will shakily set the camera down. And then they will replace it with a film camera, and the ghost will say:
Okay yeah actually film is fine—the time delay is actually pretty sustainable from an emotional standpoint. Good thinking.
—Ivan
Happenings
This week:
Mild Salsa Class, Sunday, September 7
As mentioned, this here is a mostly timely newsletter. But sometimes it comes out on Monday instead of Sunday, and so Sunday events get missed. But I’m leaving this in for the historical record:
A few months ago, it came to some of our attention that we didn’t know how to dance salsa and maybe we could hire an instructor. So began a biweekly salsa cadence. We’ve got space for more people to join, so we’re opening it up. If you’ve wanted to learn, but have been too scared to learn in front of strangers, learning in front of friends is definitely less scary.
$5
You’re too late, of course, but if you’re interested in the future, this happens the Sunday after PowerPoint Party.
Weekly Wednesday Worknight, Wednesday, September 10
The Company is about combining creative work with good friendships. Make an appointment with your side project this (or any) Wednesday at a Worknight, where we oscillate between enforced, focused, quiet time and optional chatty social time.
$5, or free for Company and Moonlight members
Future Weeks:
Cuppa Clothing Swap, Sunday, September 14
We’re doing another of these! The last one was a riot. People showed up a few hours later wearing each other’s recently swapped clothes. One Jessica in another’s dress. Sam in one of their shirts.
Free
Glint: Unknown, Tuesday, September 16
True, personal stories, told live, without notes. Pretty much exactly like The Moth, except without the competition, on Tuesdays instead of Fridays, and everyone knows each other (or is about to). Our next theme is “Unknown“.
Do you have a story not knowing? Feeling unknown? Venturing into something new? Something unfamiliar? A stranger? A variable? Making a decision without enough information? Whatever your interpretation, we want to hear it.
We’ve got a few teller slots left, so if you’re interested in telling a story, reply and let us know.
$10, or free for tellers and members.
Offsite: Make & Tell, Thursday, September 18
Make & Tell is a seasonal event series hosted by The Made Shop, and it’s the event that inspired our In the Making series. We’ve paused In the Making for the summer because Make & Tell has been back! And we so heartily encourage you to go. It is where we first met Justin (who convinced us to start The Company), and where, a summer later, we met Michelle (who convinced us The Company was worth it). There are also quite a few people that we didn’t meet, but who heard about us there, and who we’ve since had the pleasure to meet (including our new friend Liz!). There’s one final one left this summer, so if you haven’t made it out yet this is your last chance.
$23.18
Summery, Monday, September 22
For the eighth year in a row, Livvy and I are hosting Summery, a story- and reflection-driven end-of-summer picture show, in which we convince our friends to show us pictures of their summer and tell us what they mean.
It’s our very favorite day of the whole entire year and we’ve got a full lineup. Hear from Alex, Jim, Ivan, Livvy, Allyson, Lizzie, Beth, Mark, Halie, Fer, Elliot, and Case.
Free
Look forward to looking backward →
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Also coming up: Mary Ann’s Book Club: Stand Out of Our Light (September 29), PowerPoint Party No. 31 (October 4).
Nostalgia
Do you remember the week that Livvy was gone for a month? The week with so many good dogs?
How it began with a very long watch party? All the breaks to walk around the block? How we patted the hydrangeas and got to meet Dove? How the night ended with fireworks?
Do you remember how that was the week that the peaches were ready? How we were gifted so many that we thought about finding the peach thief to give him some more?
How Beth’s bowl was far too big?
The night of the tiny watch party of that film with the omniscient narrator? How you saw me reaching for my water bottle during that one scene and thought I was reaching for my camera? How afterward we took a late recess? Stopped for ice cream and then sat in the dark park? How Jessica held court from the car, and we wondered what love meant?
Do you remember the day with Madeleine and Jeanette? How Case brought a wrapped quarter-watermelon to recess and Madeleine ended up carrying it around the rest of the time? How Worknight was huge? How we read on the steps, walked to ice cream at dusk, and posed for a photo? How we earned so many stars?
Or the day Lexi came in? How at recess we spotted a young dog from afar and decided to intercept it, and met Jasper the pomsky?
Our first time at Teocalli for the First Friday Feast? How we learned about Alex’s hyper-specific food-pairing-based allergy? How we talked about microplastics and bleeding?
Do you remember the happy hour before the show? How we got to hold a brindled puppy, and Lexi made sure to tell everyone who joined us about it?
All the help we had with setting up?
And then the PowerPoint Party? The one with all the peaches? The first-time presenters, the first-time attendees, Livvy’s mom? How Micah went around getting drawings from people, how we decided to be friends, and that when the night ended it was, for the first time in a while, some semblance of the crew from the early days?
Bureaucratic Minutiae
I am literally out of storage space on my literal hard drive because I have literally used up too much literal memory. If anyone can offer any suggestions for a good DAS solution, I’d be so happy for tips (yes, I’ve looked into NAS, and it doesn’t work great for me for a few reasons).
Even after handing out peaches at the last PowerPoint Party, we’ve still got many peaches left in the fridge! Please feel free to take some more.
At Worknight: Will stood up a test site for multi-player cursors; Jaime finished editing 1.5 articles; Mark sewed a button on a dress shirt and completed fellow profiles on a website; Mary Ann B. readied Ridwell retrieval and worked on embroidery; Lizzie uploaded Paperwork photos to the site; Case edited four chapter summaries; Ivan planned three novel plans and read 20 pages; Madeleine finished a creative essay and submitted it to two places; and Alex finished Technopoly and made edits to laminator instructions.
At PowerPoint Party: Beth reminded us that things are not as bad as they were, Cale told us about different ways of moving around in space, Sam Ad. explained the artistic potential of tree grafting, Lauren T. shared a medical case study of someone surviving rabies, Tamara gave an overview of Metta meditation, Drew A. discussed the things he and Beyoncé have in common, Mike reflected on the profundity and simplicity of climbing, Esther encouraged us to brighten corners, Micah wildly speculated on the meaning of drawings, Allyson taught us how to tell a story, Michelle took us back to the age of CDs, and Emily surveyed the history of witch-hunting.
Thanks to Mason, Lizzie, Lexi, Allyson, Jessica S., Ian, and Livvy’s mom for helping set up, to Lizzie for taking tickets, to Allyson for tending to the punch clock, to Alex and Jessica P. for keeping time, and to everyone who helped us reset the room after.
Finally, a reminder that The Company is a member-supported gathering place, and if you know any of us, you’re welcome to pop in any time for free (outside of events). If you know that one of us is here and you’d like to come by, reach out and we can let you in.
Photos
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This issue of Paperwork was written by Ivan, and shot by Ivan, Lizzie, and Case. Photo selection and editing by Ivan. Editorial support was provided by Livvy. This issue, and The Company itself, was made possible by the support of our members, Halie, Drew, Justin, Mason, Lexi, José, Mary Ann B., Trevr, Allyson, Lizzie, Melissa, Elijah, Michelle, Jim, Jaime, Jacob, Mark, Sabrina, Beth, Dani, Chris, Will, Rebeca, Sarah, Mary Ann T., Alex, Jessica P., Jessica S., Mike, Ben, Sam, and Liz.
Do you know anyone in the Denver area who might be looking for creative community? Feel free to forward this email along to them. Everyone loves Paperwork.
😘