This weeks prompt is as thus: What do you enjoy most about your favorite hobby? How can incorporate that into other parts of your life?
Well, you’d be surprised to hear that it has something to do with writing. And I don’t mean the physical nature of writing books (because hell, that isn’t a hobby) but the craft of hand writing.
Ever since I learnt to write I have experimented with different styles, copying other girls (because boys rarely took the time to write properly, a generalisation perhaps but very true in my childhood), slanting to the right, then to the left, then upright. Fat letters, thin letters, curly and straight. You name it, I’ve tried it. Writing was an expression of one’s self in those days but in these modern times of smart phones and the use of opposable thumbs, the craft seems to be passing us by. My handwriting changes with my mood and other things happening in my life. Shopping lists are usually scribbled last minute before I dash from the house (and I have to admit that I do now have an app for this particularly chore), whilst letters to people are more considered and I often write out a rough draft first, so I can concentrate on the style once I’ve prepared the sentiment. I probably sound terribly old fashioned and it’s all true!
I write all my first drafts by hand, pen a daily morning pages and scribble a six word story challenge. I’ve learnt (rather reluctantly I have to admit) to process my blogs straight onto the laptop because they are short and I usually prepare them in advance so plenty of time to rewrite if I don’t like it, which is often the case. I keep a bullet journal, a real book with all the scraps of my life scattered throughout it. Sometimes the writing is replaced by indeterminable doodles as I experiment taking the craft a step further. I still write regular letters to my delightful granddaughter who is 12 going on 20 but as I get no such written delight in return, it’s a little one sided. She is of course one of the opposable thumbs generation, but I convince myself that, one day, she’ll look back on my letters with some kind of nostalgia. And of course, I have a very small collection of fountain pens, each of which allow me even more experimentation.
I have dallied, for many years, with perfecting my writing into calligraphy. It’s a skill I would dearly love to possess. For me it’s like a painting, only with words.
“Just above our terror, the stars painted this story
in perfect silver calligraphy. And our souls, too often
abused by ignorance, covered our eyes with mercy.”