“How wonderful it is to be able to write someone a letter! To feel like conveying your thoughts to a person, to sit at your desk and pick up a pen, to put your thoughts into words like this is truly marvelous.”
As of earlier this week, I finished reading a book titled The Forgers by Bradford Morrow. Let me tell you, it was a wonderful read. What intrigued me about the book, though, was the narrator-who himself had been a forger of signatures, letters, and the like- and his passion for writing. Like physically writing. The way the pen would dance across a sheet a paper depositing just the right amount of ink onto its canvas, how fingers have total and utter control of the work but seem to operate out of complete muscle memory; all of that was completely breathtaking in his eyes and I so desperately wish people today would find the same beauty in writing as he did.
I, for one, love letters. I love writing them, I love reading them, and I love hearing that the recipient loved my letter. To sit down at a table with everything you want to say in mind-or even nothing at all- with a piece of paper in front of you anticipating the feelings, funny stories, and care its about to deliver to anther person is a time like no other. Anyone can send a quick text or shoot a quick email to someone else-and in today’s world, it’s so common that it’s annoying- but when you receive a letter, you know that that person took time out of their day to think about no one but you… and that’s beautiful.