The lost art of letter writing
Updated: Jun 13, 2020
Living alone in a slow time for six months in the French countryside last year, and cut off from the noise of the world, I took to letter writing. "It's a lost art," the sales clerk told me as I stocked up on calligraphy pens, nibs, ink, and paper.
Sadly, the only letters I received were from my mom and mon Mari (who needed to be in the US for our chocolate shop). Remembering St. Francis of Assis's wisdom, I decided to begin writing letters to others in hopes of getting one in return. I'd leap to snatch the mail each morning when the postman shoved notes through the brass mail slot.
After returning to the US, I discovered this antique Field Campaign Desk with brass handles (for carrying) while antiquing with my Dad near New Orleans. I learned that it dates back to the Civil War in the mid-1800s and presumably belonged to an officer. The desks hinged front opens to reveal compartments for all of my envelopes and stationery that once cluttered my desk. I close the doors when I want privacy for my messages.
I have a romantic fondness with the past and hope to inspire others to pick up a pen. Scribble away!