Hand Written Love Letter Blues
My fountain pen has been a part of my life for so long it feels like forever. It travels with me. It scratches snatches of thoughts across scraps of paper here, pages in a book there. The spiral bound notebooks sit in a growing pile, hidden in a dark corner of the wardrobe.
A steady companion in the hours of a broken night’s sleep I sit with pen and paper under the low light of a lamp, enveloped in the blissful solitude of time I can truly call my own. The summer nights, so much shorter than their winter counter-parts, are more languid and lazy. For it is in the dark of the night I see more clearly, the bright light of a clear day blinding me to senseless distraction.
My notebooks are not diaries, nor are they journals. They are the letters I write to myself. The drafts of the stories to tell. They make no demands of time that is precious to anyone but me. My fountain pen is my hard-drive, bleeding ink and staining my fingertips with purpose.
Once upon a long time ago I wrote letters. Because I had moved far away from family and friends, letter-writing became the regular source of contact. Telephone calls were a rare, expensive luxury. I enjoyed writing my letters, and, in telling friends and family all about me I was wanting them to tell me all about themselves. Happy to tell, I was greedy to know. With my letters I was able to transcribe and massage my subterranean homesick blues.
The momentum however could be sustained for only so long. Letters of apology trickled their way to me, life “back home” either did not offer the same letter-writing opportunities of adventure or, with sad and more frequent sighs of resignation, they were too busy to sit down and write a letter. As much as they would loved to have done! I stopped writing the letters, fearful of becoming a burden to friends and family who remained so dear to me across the many miles. Friends and family engaged in their rituals of routine as indeed did I, albeit in another part of the world I now called home.
But that was long ago. The internet has transformed the ability to communicate. We have email addresses, Facebook friends and connections, Twitter accounts and texting services. No reason not to connect, unless of course we are all too busy . . . in which case we have all the means in the world but, without time and the will, we remain as distant from each other as ever. Talking to ourselves on Facebook and Twitter. Younger people talking @ each other and about each other. Relationships developing, progressing and getting stamped with hearts of love to share with the world! Nimble fingers keyboarding tender words of love and devotion.
Where, I wonder, are the letters of love to wrap in a ribbon, to have and to hold, from those days of youthful passion? The letters, held in trembling hands of anticipation, potential joy or dreaded heartbreak?
Love-letters and the love of letters, surely they remain in circulation out there somewhere?
When did you last use one hand to write with, letting the words fall in a scrawl across a blank page?
. . . . . . .
NB: Please know, that as writer of this post, I have a dedicated attachment to my MacBook Pro and the internet, without which, none of this would be possible!
Blogging, what’s not to like, or love!
As always… you are elegant.
Why, thank you kind sir!
I do love a good fountain pen 😀
Yes, i know how much you do! Do you have a particular favourite?
I have always wanted a Parker Duofold or a classic Mont Blanc. But my Cross Affinity writes perfectly.
I have a friend who feels about his typewriter the way you feel about your pen.
But his primary writing instrument is —a pencil.
(His blog is laviegraphite.blogspot.com)
I read with fascination this post, the earlier post, and all the comments —
And perversely I found that what resonated most strongly with me was your comment:
“And if I am being completely honest I also have very strong memories of youthful boredom and longing for the excitement of the future!”
Perhaps it’s being a bit of a contrarian, and perhaps it’s because I’m heading rapidly toward 77 — but I’m more with you here than anywhere else!
Nostalgia and those meanderings down memory lane can be wonderful companions but wouldn’t you hate to miss the opportunities in making new memories? I know I would and, if that is what it is to be a contrarian, I am with you! (I must admit, however, I have treasured letters in my possession which indeed did become the excitement of my future. But that was then . . . !)
I look fwd to exploring laviegraphite!
Hello there,
I emjoy your wrtining very much. For years I used my fountain pen to write very long desctptive letters as you did and with the same resullt. The years go by and distance grows. Everyone is too busy to pen letters and now we have email to connect us, but my pen is with me always.
Thank you TT for your very generous comment! That the faithful fountain pen remains so much a part of times past and of those to come is so reassuring.
very nice post..I would love to stick on the conventional way of writing..I can think much and write much whenever I’m using a pen and paper than using and typing on a laptop.
I miss also writing love letters..thanks for this post it reminded me of those old moments of my writings..
John, pick up a pen today and put it all down on a piece a paper, you know how the scribbling and scratching out of messy thoughts on to paper is such fun. Almost a work-out! As for writing love letters, it is never too late! Best wishes and always lovely to hear from you!
There is nothing like a handwritten letter – one of my friends, despite being in regular email contact, still sends me regular letters. I love them. Fountain pens, too. I had a Waterman fountain pen for years until it fell apart. I sent it to a specialist for repair, but he said the parts were no longer available. I still keep it in a drawer…
How lovely for you that your friendship has been maintained in such a special way! Perhaps somewhere on the internet you might be able to find those spare parts. Good luck!
Love every part of the post. The last time I made one was when I was courting my wife, I would make her poems and letter. She still keeps them which is just so sweet and nostalgic.
Your lucky wife! Don’t ever stop courting each other!
Wow, I absolutely love this post. Beautifully written, and I feel the same exact way!
Thank you so much Bri. Please know that if I could send you a hand-written letter of appreciation of your kind thoughts I most certainly would!
Hi! I miss the art of writing. I still remember the days of writing and receiving letters. I remember when a mailbox would be filled with actual mail and not promotional mail.
I use to be an avid writer with an actual pen and paper, but lately it’s been all typing instead. Your blog has inspired me to do actual writing again.
Cheers,
Louise