One of my favorite things is to write with my hands around a pen and hear it scrape across the paper. Even gel pens have a sound.

I can’t imagine dipping into an inkwell just as the younger generations can’t imagine hours of practicing cursive. I am glad my kids were exposed to cursive handwriting before it stopped being taught in schools. It will become a lost art just as pretty journals and day planners become an extension of one’s creativity and more like a hobby.

It’s the pull and push of life. The friction and the smooth release. The tension and the languid exhale.

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