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Jun. 15th, 2002
Written/typed
Jun. 15th, 2002 04:27 pmWords always look different in handwriting and in typing. Typing's easier, and easier to read, but some of the soul is lost. I never feel this way about my own typewritten words, because they spring from my mind, and I can underhear the pauses, the omissions, the scratched-over word substitutions.
Last night, I typed up some words of wisdom that had been written to me a while ago. They look emptier, dryer, stripped down to the essentials on the screen. They're not his words anymore. They're mine. I suppose that's the first step in taking advice that you know you wish to take -- making it yours. But they're still not my words.
You can gather so many things about a person from their handwriting, if it's distinctive enough. I would recognize my father's handwriting from a crowd instantly. My mother's handwriting is more polished and careful. Evidently I have a twin in Dreamhaven bookstore -- there is someone in Minneapolis who writes just like me. My signed copies of A Civil Campaign came with notes as to what was to be written in them -- written in my writing. Only it was the writing of whoever had stickytabbed them for Lois to sign. Odd.
The writing that I typed for myself is dry and cold, taken out of handwriting, out of context. The original is in cramped scratchy handwriting of the sort that indicates that the writer rarely writes, or is uncomfortable with words. To extract so much writing out of the writer other than for school is nothing short of amazing. I can hear the forceful, protective, caring tone of the writer's voice, saying such things. Other people who wouldn't know or couldn't imagine any such words from the writer, couldn't. Handwriting conveys that better, somehow, perhaps only in the magic of holding a scrap of paper that the other party has touched.
Last night, I typed up some words of wisdom that had been written to me a while ago. They look emptier, dryer, stripped down to the essentials on the screen. They're not his words anymore. They're mine. I suppose that's the first step in taking advice that you know you wish to take -- making it yours. But they're still not my words.
You can gather so many things about a person from their handwriting, if it's distinctive enough. I would recognize my father's handwriting from a crowd instantly. My mother's handwriting is more polished and careful. Evidently I have a twin in Dreamhaven bookstore -- there is someone in Minneapolis who writes just like me. My signed copies of A Civil Campaign came with notes as to what was to be written in them -- written in my writing. Only it was the writing of whoever had stickytabbed them for Lois to sign. Odd.
The writing that I typed for myself is dry and cold, taken out of handwriting, out of context. The original is in cramped scratchy handwriting of the sort that indicates that the writer rarely writes, or is uncomfortable with words. To extract so much writing out of the writer other than for school is nothing short of amazing. I can hear the forceful, protective, caring tone of the writer's voice, saying such things. Other people who wouldn't know or couldn't imagine any such words from the writer, couldn't. Handwriting conveys that better, somehow, perhaps only in the magic of holding a scrap of paper that the other party has touched.
I'm not mine. My neckline.
Sounds very much like a random REM lyric. Which reminds me, I haven't listened to my REM lately. I wonder where my old mix tapes got to. Interesting combinations.
Reading a lot lately. Finished two more Elizabeth Peters books: The Falcon at the Portal and He Shall Thunder In The Sky. Enjoyed them. Votania's working on the Harry Potter series, and enjoying them mightily.
Sounds very much like a random REM lyric. Which reminds me, I haven't listened to my REM lately. I wonder where my old mix tapes got to. Interesting combinations.
Reading a lot lately. Finished two more Elizabeth Peters books: The Falcon at the Portal and He Shall Thunder In The Sky. Enjoyed them. Votania's working on the Harry Potter series, and enjoying them mightily.
It's that time of year again: I'm going to a family reunion. My aunt and I will be driving from Phoenix, Arizona to Perry, Iowa, with a potential side trip to Minneapolis. Departing Arizona on the 27th of June, returning to Arizona on the 14th of July. The reunion is on the 7th of July. We'll be travelling through New Mexico, Colorado, and Nebraska as well as Iowa and (possibly) Minnesota.
Anybody want me to stop by and say hello?
Anybody want me to stop by and say hello?