Volume 1, Issue 20 | Optimism
Years ago, when Livvy and I lived in Michigan, before we got engaged, we were eating lunch at her parents’ house, and a guest of theirs—an older guy, just retired—told a story about a box. It went something like this:
Recently out of college, he worked as a facilities manager at a boarding school, fixing things, machining things, generally tending to the various mechanical systems on this campus. Handy guy. Crafty guy.
During a visit back home, he meets this woman, through a friend or family member or something, and they hit it off. But they don’t live in the same area—she’s still finishing school or volunteering abroad or something—so they begin to write letters to each other. For a very long time they write letters. He falls in love with her through these letters. He keeps all of hers, and they mean the world to him. And he wonders, he hopes, that perhaps she feels the same way about his letters.
He’s in that delightful and terrifying in-between phase of hoping that she feels a certain way but not really knowing. And it drives him to make a box.
As a facilities manager, he’s got access to a wood shop with all its tools and machines, and in that shop he starts to craft this container. Every day after he gets done with his work, he uses everything he’s learned, all his skills and the tools he’s got access to—to start making the most beautiful box he can. He obsesses over it, plans the design, finds the finest wood he can afford, works on the joins, the staining, the way the lid opens and closes. He is precise and meticulous, and when he finally finishes it—after weeks of pouring himself into this project—he has it delivered to her, with a note saying that, “should the letters be treasured,” he wants her to have a beautiful place to store them.
The box is a container, but it’s also an exquisite optimism.
I think about that box every once in a while, for a few reasons. The first is that I love this idea of using professional skills for personal work. I love the idea of expending great effort into small things, of being rigorous about communicating love, of turning the skills we use to make money toward instead making meaning. On that level alone, I love what this box means, and there are whole rabbit warrens to dive into of people doing this kind of thing for their loved ones.
The second reason I think about that box, and the reason I’m thinking about it now, is because of that feeling of having invested in a hope. To pour ourselves into something before we know how it will be received, to sit in that space of effort and wonder, can be a very vulnerable act.
And so, the moments when we start to see that the thing we’ve been making is in fact meaningful to others can be very potent.
To hear that you’ve been looking for a place like this for a long time—to hear that that was your first free weeknight in three years, and you chose to spend it here—to hear that you’re grateful to have found people like this—to see the treasured things you chose to share and create and invest in this container we’ve been putting together—it makes us so happy.
—Ivan
Happenings
This week:
Ballot Study Hall, Sunday, October 27
Last year Livvy didn’t know which of the 17 mayoral candidates she wanted to vote for and so she invited all of them to come talk to her (and other residents in the building where we live) about why we should vote for them. Only one of the candidates didn’t come to her impromptu hyperlocal civic engagement project: our now mayor, Mike Johnston.
Anyway, Livvy wants to have a study hall to go through the Blue Book. Don’t expect any candidates to show up—it’s gonna be super chill. It’s more so an appointment to read through your blue book and discuss with friends and fill out your ballot.
Mary Ann’s Book Club: The Watchers, Monday, October 28
Do you like being scared? Then you’ll love this month’s book pick. Mary Ann’s Book Club switches between fiction and nonfiction, and this month’s book is A.M. Shine’s The Watchers. Instead of a lengthy discussion, we’ll mostly be watching the movie and having a short discussion after. Sign up even if you don’t plan to read but still wanna watch.
Block Printing Class, Tuesday, October 29
This workshop is both sold out and the deadline to sign up was last week. Leaving it in here for the historical record.
Weekly Wednesday Worknight, Wednesday, October 30
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.
Next week:
Moonlight Showcase, Monday, November 4
Moonlight members only (for now). This is where Moonlighters show off work from the last lunation and commit to projects for the next lunation. Interested in joining a social club for side projects based around the cycle of the moon? Reply to this email.
PowerPoint Party No. 20, Saturday, November 9
What’s a PowerPoint Party, you ask? Twelve people giving 7-minute presentations about whatever they’re currently into. At past ones, people have presented about their rules for life, case-sensitive forms, and why you should make things. It’s a wide mix.
It’s a nerdy and sincere crowd that cares a lot, and we’ve met some of our favorite people at these.
Want to present? We’ve got a waiting list. Want to just show up and meet interesting people and learn about what’s fascinating them lately? That’s great too. Bring yourself, bring a friend, bring your mom.
Future Weeks:
Homecoming, Saturday, November 16
Some of us, for various reasons, never made it to a formal school dance. Others of us did. In both cases, we want another go at it, and thanks to Halie and Lizzie we’re gonna get that ‘nother go on November 16.
The theme is Old Hollywood. We’ll walk the red carpet and take photos and dance and eat snacks and drink punch and consensually make out with whoever we want to.
This is in a little under three weeks, so if you want to find on-theme outfits or on-theme dates, consider this your heads up.
Would you like to go to Homecoming with all of us? →
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Also coming up: Yoga with Dan, Mary Ann’s Book Club: Of Boys and Men, Glint: Heights.
Nostalgia
Do you remember that first New Media Arts meetup? All those strange inputs and outputs? The dark room, lit by the projector?
How that was the first week with the espresso machine? How the scent of coffee mixed with the sharp burning smell when the heat got turned on for the first time?
Do you remember how we took lunch in the park, got ice cream in the afternoon, sat outside Kent’s gallery talking about writing and cutting and caring a lot?
Or Glint—the one about ghosts? How we told and heard stories about loss and death and memory and mystery and peppers and bus stops? Do you remember the new people we got to meet? How long we all talked afterward—how it was such a good night for lingering?
Do you remember how the very next day Michelle started working from here? How we got lunch at Tony P’s and talked about almost everything?
That small worknight, interrupted by Taco Bell, where we didn’t earn five stars but it still felt so full? How afterward, Halie described Drew’s hoodie as modern Barney colors and he laughed one of those really full laughs?
The day when Jaime started—how we took that walk to get coffee and we saw a lone witch hat on the ground of that courtyard? How beautiful the tree-lined streets were?
Or the jam night? How we figured out why the kick drum was hard to hear, how we took breaks for kettle corn, how we tried to play some real songs but mostly improvised? How that was the night I finally found a good bass preset?
Do you remember that Saturday? The refugee resettlement training session, how we learned more about the the family we’d be meeting? How we all made faces, and Dan asked so many good questions, and we excitedly got to work making plans?
How after that, a different configuration of us went on an autumn activity day? Do you remember seeing the chickens and the horses, eating the apple cider donuts? Admiring the flowers? Do you remember how after that we went to a pumpkin ranch and saw pumpkins we hadn’t known existed? That we got more snacks, and took so many photos, and that all together it really felt like we had paid our respects to fall?
Bureaucratic Minutiae
The Norton J. King collection has acquired new art from Trevr Fernald.
We’ve added another desk.
At the New Media Arts meetup: Jim demoed a beautiful and strange modular synth; Ashton showed more looping vaporwave-y visuals; Phil showed us his cataloging of the plasticene, insights into an archaeology of the present, and designs for a press for creating plastiglomerates. He also gave a brief intro to the world of art grants and funding; and Eric showed us an assortment of NES and SNES games he programmed (in 6502 Assembly!).
At Glint: Lexi told us about an important friend, Mary Ann recounted the time she ghosted a guy, Ivan described a meaningful trick of light, Marcia told a story about a reassuring encounter, Halie taught us about the importance of using protection, Caroline talked about the sudden disappearance of a sudden long-term boyfriend, Ronak described an encounter with wild things, Livvy spoke of her presumably late husband, and Mark talked us through how he definitely didn’t see a bat.
At Worknight: Norton updated and deployed some member profiles, Halie cleared an email inbox, Livvy worked on a script, Ivan posted some social posts, and Drew drank a Dram and kept working.
At Jam Night: we jammed and ate kettle corn.
Allyson’s Refugee Initiative had another meeting with LFSRM to discuss our newly assigned family, discussed the upcoming meeting, and figured out some logistics.
The letters were in fact treasured. They got married, and the box became home to both sets of their letters.
Finally, a reminder that The Company is a membership-supported mixed-use creative space, 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.
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.
😘
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This issue of Paperwork was made possible by the support of our members, Halie, Drew, Justin, Mason, Lexi, José, Mary Ann, Trevr, Aubrey, Allyson, Lizzie, Madison, Melissa, Elijah, Dan, and our newest members, Michelle, Jim, and Jaime.
