In this Anime Artisan post, Zion illustrates Natsuko and Luke while reflecting on the series—one our writers have also reflected upon in recent weeks.
To be hungry is a wonderful thing, isn’t it? To be just so famished, your own flesh turns against itself, eating to a point of atrophy. The only remedy for such a case is—you guessed it—to eat. Find food, scavenge in any possible way.
The same could be said when developing a skill, there has to be that initial hunger that’s sparked through interest. We all have them, but it’s sad to say and to see when individuals don’t devote themselves to a craft their heart longs for. Life gets in the way, they talk themselves out of it, or they fall to the wayside of, “someone else can do it better.” It’s a sick little phrase but it’s crossed all of our minds.
In the case of Zenshu, it’s a beautiful love story of living for the craft, in the form of animation. Now in my personal life, living out the setting of an adult at art college, it’s felt like a 4D experience, the animators can be picked out from the crowd with eyes squinting from the hours of blue light glare, a permanent shrimp-back posture, complete with an unwashed hoodie and slidable shoes. The life is a battle between drive and constant exhaustion, neither vanquishing the other. But I admire these folk from afar, thinking, “Thank God that’s not me.” Happy my pursuits are imagery of words, interpretation made exclusively to the mind’s eye.
As for anyone that has a love, we can recall the very moment it’s formed. Love at first sight? Maybe a longing for understanding, and eventually morphing ourselves into what we see once peeling back the layers.
The scripture that sticks out in relation to this series is Matthew 6.21: “For where your treasure is, your heart will be also.” It’s to the point, but what does it mean? We discover the placement of our hearts through our devotion. Treasure takes time, collecting, hoarding, wanting, and cannot come into fruition without the desire of our heart, the driving force. They are one in the same. Just as we see people speak fervently about a special passion of theirs, you’re seeing the face of their heart as well.
In Zenshu, Natsuko’s on the journey of discovering her first love, or at least, identifying it. Her life is lived in devotion for the pursuit of animation, the beauty being, it will live beyond me, unaware that she’s in love all the while. Being near God-like in the cultivation of her craft, she depends almost exclusively on herself, not trusting the insight of her peers. Nor leaning into the specialties her comrades have to show for themselves. One part of that could be ego getting in the way, but the other part could be protection.
If we’re to look at Luke Braveheart as a culmination of her life’s work, Natsuko is going to make sure it gets the best possible outcome, defend it from tragedy, ruin, and its downfall. We will always nurture and protect what we love. So much so, rather than letting the cards fall as they may, we’d rather insert ourselves and protect what we so dearly cherish, as a mom would do so for her child.
Despite knowing better, it’s at times best to remove our own wants from infringing upon an individual or project’s growth, grant trust. How else can we truly love if we don’t grant room for lessons? And just like treasure, it’s better shared. “What can I learn from this, and who else could benefit?” If one steps back and gives room, someone will feel comfortable enough to add to the chest or even admire what you’ve accumulated. In the act of sharing your love, you’re all the richer for it, no losses can truly incur.
This is to say, Zenshu is about loving to the point of becoming. Hunger to the point of feasting. Finding heart in the imperfect. There could be better ways to wrap up what I’ve written, but in the spirit of Zenshu, how much are we capable of altering, and what does a true ending look like?
[…] Zenshu: Where the Heart Is […]