What Atlanta Gave Me

One of Pittsburgh's historically Black neighborhoods was the location of the visual artist's project. She was influenced by the teachings of Afrofuturism and the belief that Black people are the authors of their tomorrows. She said there were black people in the future. One of Wormsley's "artifacts" was a window pane with the statement in thick lettering and its edges rusted. The statement looked like it was fading away. The words were coming into view. The feeling of seeing Wormsley's artwork for the first time was immediate.

Since it's debut in 2016, Atlanta has given me a similar feeling. It's time to say goodbye. The show will end with its fourth season and bring to a close an era that embraced Black futurity.

The outlines of the show remain as they have always been. The brilliance of the series was always about the unseen and unsaid. Atlanta spoke between the lines to its advantage. It was all in the knowledge because what was understood was all that mattered. Atlanta was a head nod at its most important point. You have it if you get it. There was nothing else to say.

When you think about it, it's sort of ironic. The show has always asked us to listen with open ears, even when it struggled narratively from an excess of voices.

According to Afrofuturism, Black people are the ones who make their fate. Atlanta's central quartet tried to steer their lives in a funny way. They were fascinating study in motion. They ran to or away from the eeriness of the world, its darkness and wonder, and all the questions within.

Paper Boi was the best example of this. He was both the show's main character and its "Odysseus figure." The story of a local rapper who finds fame was colored by his career maneuvering as well as his personal troubles. Go back and watch the shows. It was also part of its radiance. The show's endless imagination was always bound to reality even when it dipped into the weird. The organs of the series were adapted from the body of life.