This morning I opened my mailbox and found something amazing. A hand written letter!
My friend MD doesn't e-mail or text. She's not on Facebook or MySpace, and she doesn't tweet. She staunchly refuses to communicate via those "impersonal" ways of communicating (she says)...so, every few months she sits down to write me a long, loving letter. In many ways, she frustrates me. I can keep up daily with all my other friends and family via a quick witty e-mail or text message. I can check to see what's new in their lives with a peak at their blog, Facebook or Twitter. With MD I sometimes have to wait a couple months to find out what's new.
I have to admit, however, that I couldn't wait to tear open that envelope! Her letters are always a heady, sensual experience. I love the feel of the thick pink parchment paper between my fingers, the look of bright turquoise ink she has made "her trademark", and the faint, fresh smell of her favorite perfume upon the pages. I smile at her doodles and 'smiling', 'frowning', 'shocked', 'angry' little faces she has drawn among the written words. It's like she is right here with me, her essence there between the lines.
Letter writing is a lost art. I remember when I used to take such delight in hunting for beautiful cards, lovely stationary, bright, bold, colorful inks with which to write letters. I would enclose bits of glitter, confetti, or tiny found objects I had scavenged. They were mini works-of-art. And...Oh, how I remember the innocent, tear-inducing letters I would receive in turn from my children. Their sentimental 'Mother's Day', 'Anniversary', 'Thanksgiving', 'Halloween' poems. Their loving 'thank-you' cards and letters...each written in their unique style, each a treasure to savour and save. A tangible gift to return to. Reread. Rejoice over. Again and again and again. Yes, I faintly remember those days.
Thinking about those letters has made me impatient go dig out my colored india inks, my ancient writing pen, my pile of pretty papers and write some letters. It has even given me a fabulous idea for the creative book Kristin and I are talking of writing. We are thinking of a "Griffin and Sabine" book of sorts, a back and forth sharing of ideas, drawings, paintings, even mini collages of our creative process when making our handbags and jewelry. MD's letter has me thinking we might use zesty colored inks and sumptuous, thick parchments. Even envelopes of confetti and found objects.
I might even take the time to write some real old-fashioned letters now and again. I think dear MD might have the right idea.
