A few weeks ago, I remembered to check the mail at my studio, and there, in the inbox, was an actual letter. Hand written, addressed and mailed. It was a pleasant surprise, both the card and the fact that this particular person had actually taken the time to do what we all did before there were iPhones and email.Thanks Max for the reminder that the art of the letter isn't a lost one.
Sometime last week, while perusing We Love You So, I came across these correspondence and postcard sets from Yellow Owl in San Francisco.
Here's an assignment, brighten someone's day and write them a letter.
And then re-watch Jacques Tati's Jour de Fete.
3 comments:
couldn't agree more...my grandmother still sends me hand written letters and various newspaper clippings and it always makes me smile to read her notes and then send something back. i say we all get personal in '10.
Used to send lots of letters to dear a friend when he lived in Shepherd(ess)'s Bush.
The temptation was simple too much.
(Apologies for those unfamiliar with London's more Westerly Boroughs (and those lacking school boys humour)).
I was born in Ghana and didn't come to the US until 1997. I still remember those blue and red stripped post office bought letter papers and having a pen pal. Those days seems long gone until a great Japanese female friend of mine began leaving me notes even though we went to school together and saw each other everyday. It was always pleasant to receive such a correspondence.
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