I spent some of last weekend writing back to those who had written to me. I truly enjoy the physical act of writing. Among my favorite writing instruments is the fountain pen. It has a physicality that other pens do not. I also like the feel and sound of a pencil.
I was completely consumed writing to each person. I enjoyed having a moment in time with these people. For some reason, typing and emails do not feel like they exist in time. Writing a letter does. Perhaps it is because of the method of delivery. I actually wrote to someone who I happened to see the next day and I had to ask if they had checked their mailbox recently as I did not want to tell them about anything I had written about lest their letter experience be spoiled. One is very conscious of time when writing a letter. The time it takes to write one, the time it takes to mail it, as well as find a stamp! The time it takes to be delivered to its recipient.
I can remember when I was a kid, my Dad used to travel all over the world for business. Sometimes he would be gone for many weeks at a time. While he was away, he would always be sure to send me a postcard. It usually didn’t have a lot of information, as he must have literally written it when he landed at his destination so that he would be sure it would get back home before he did. I saved a lot of those postcards. I have also saved several notes my Dad and Mom have sent me over the years. They are like art pieces to me. They mark a time in history, my history and history, in general. They are handmade, personalized and one of a kind. They often have the markings of time any travel.
I am 8 weeks into this project and I am really enjoying receiving letters from the people who have chosen to be part of this project. Each one has been handwritten. (Yes, I am still planning on having them analyzed by a professional!) Each person has a particular style of writing and there is an energy in their writing that seems to communicate their emotional state at the time. I truly feel I can picture what time of day they were writing, where they were sitting and their state of mind at the time. Mostly, I enjoy the feeling that I have something secret. I am receiving something for my eyes only. I am receiving something that no one can hack and share.