Thursday, May 2, 2013


I recently was reading the book, The Missing Ink by Philip Hensher. When I select books at the library to check out I have about five seconds to make my selection. The kids are often down in the children's book area with my husband while I make my wild dash to grab some reading material. I only have time to visit the new book section (non-fiction of course) to scanned the covers and their titles until one draws me in. The Missing Ink has a cover filled with inky words sprawled out across it. I grabbed the book and flipped it open as a read a few sentences at random selection.  I no longer have the book in my possession so I cannot directly quote from it but the portion that pushed me to the checkout line said something along the lines of, we now live in a society where we do not know what the writing of our friends looks like. The truth of that statement really struck something in me and I wanted to read more on the topic.

   Handwriting has been an object of interest to me since I was a very little girl. I can truthfully say I vividly remember watching Lindsay, a girl in my first grade class, write a sentence about Notre Dame. As I watched her handwriting I marveled at how her letters leaned to the left in a beautiful slant. She was the best drawer in the class as well and I knew somehow the two things were linked. I tried to copy her lettering but found it took too long and never end up having the same flair to it. As I think back through my years at school and the many friends I had I often remember handwriting along with the person. Kimberly: beautiful and rounded letters that all seemed perfectly spaced, Mindy: small scratchy lines that were hard to read, Marika: flared with a perfect balanced between over the top and just right....I also recall that my own handwriting was many times influence by those whose own writing I admired. Kimberly and I kept a journal together during our middle school years  that we would pass back and forth between us. I remember in later years looking at it and not being able to decipher who had written what since our handwriting had become identical.

  Handwriting is so personal, so revealing, and in my opinion a small bit of artwork one creates whenever they jot something down. I too, like Philip, miss the days when handwritten notes were the norm and I could imagine the writing of a friend when I had them in my mind. Please excuse me now, I am off to write-yes write-a note to someone.
How do you feel about handwriting? Do you share my sentiments on this subject or am I a loner in this area?

1 comment:

the cuthberts said...

love it. and, of course, I love handwriting (and finding the perfect pens)...