I am very new to the blogging scene. My blogging experience up until now has been comprised of posting beautiful photos to my tumblr and adding short captions to them. While engaged in this activity, I always felt cheap, a feeling I could compare to that of purchasing an imitation Chanel purse despite my financial capabilities to invest in an authentic one (not saying this is possible). I have had the skills to start a REAL blog and yet I have been settling for the easy, imitative practice of "Reblog." So easy to do, but so unsatisfying. So while I may be new to the world of blogging, I like to think that I am quite the veteran when it comes to expressing myself through written word and yes, this is emphasized for a reason. I do love words and the English language, but I often struggle to vocalize my various thoughts and feelings. I have learned that my love for writing and dread of speaking has a lot to do with the necessary inclusion, at least for me, of time. With time, my ability to express myself is quite strong (I really hope my writing and multiple revisions here have made a good case for me). Writing provides me with the time to formulate my thoughts and revise them as necessary.
As a writer, in the non-professional sense, I do have a preferred writing method, the old-fashioned method of pen and paper. Nothing pleases me more than writing with a nice black Pilot pen (I know it's specific but at least it's not a quill, though that would be quite fun) on the blank, crisp pages of a beautiful leather bound journal. Typing just does not compare. I would like to attribute my love for pen and paper to the fact that I am just an old-soul born in the wrong century since the truth is I am as far away from being tech-savvy as I am from owning an authentic Chanel purse. Perhaps it is because I spent the majority of my childhood computer time on Barbie.com--you can only learn so much about the computer by left clicking here and there and typing in a password. As I limited what could have been valuable computer time to such trivial play, I never really learned how to utilize the computer and its various programs to benefit my needs. My typing skills, therefore, never amounted to very much. (Two-finger typing anyone?) On a more positive note, however, my handwriting--please do not confuse this for my cursive because that too, like my typing skills, got absolutely no where--flourished.. And thank goodness for that!
I promise that I speak without any conceit when I say that I love my own handwriting and that I find pleasure watching my thoughts form into tightly-scripted words at the tip of my pen, letter by letter, word by word. Have you ever met someone with a scrawl so terrible that you cannot help but to wonder how they culminated from the fifth grade? I guess the whole reason I got on this topic is because I noticed a classmate's handwriting recently and it was horrifically illegible and all over the place. I half expected it to leap off the paper and settle on the desk, the floor and the walls. I am sad to say that yes, I did judge the person. My first thought was whether this person has a messy room. That is so personal and odd, that I am somewhat embarrassed to admit this. But yes, this was my initial thought. A friend once told me that her father said a person's writing speaks of his/her character. Since then, I have always liked to see people's handwriting and guess the nature of the person. I like to think that my script/scrawl, whatever it may be, speaks of who I am. Of course, a person's handwriting is not the one factor that defines or speaks of a person's character, but certainly penmanship is not stressed throughout life for no reason. Because of this emphasis on penmanship, I make sure that my writing stays neat and legible. Of course, I do write everyday because I am a student and notes have to be written in order for this student to pass her classes, but I make sure to take my time, as much time as I can possibly take in my race to write down everything I hear coming out of my professor's mouth, so as to improve and further hone my writing skills. To this day, I cannot write a paper without first writing down all of my ideas onto paper. I could attempt to digitize this process and save Mother Earth by typing up my ideas, but the process loses its effect. There is comfort and understanding in the way that the hand moves to shape words. There is recognition of the hand's movement. There are even newly formed associations between words and memories. Writing also allows for a feeling of progress, a literal, physical feeling that more often than not takes the form of a cramp. I guess most important of all, writing allows for a sense of pride in both a finished and unfinished work. Just as the ideas and contents of a written work belong to you, so too does the method in which the content and ideas are inscribed onto the medium. Writing is a signature. Unlike typed text, which must be read before its voice and therefore its author can be identified, a handwritten work possesses an individuality that connects it to one individual, one author, just upon looking at the style. Is it any wonder, then, that I, or just people in general, possess a deep pride for our handwriting? My writing is me and I am proud to say that I am my handwriting, neat, somewhat organized, level, and poised. I am proud of it, just as I am proud to be my own individual person.
I guess it is quite ironic that this short rant on the qualities of handwriting is typed, but since there is no wondrous technological innovation for sending mass quantities of this rant in handwritten form to the world, I will settle for my improved station of writing, even if it is via type, over my former limited station of the "reblog."
