A strange thing I’ve always been taken with is the art of letter-writing. We’ve become so jaded by technology, there’s very little romance left in everyday life. There’s something staggeringly beautiful that lies between the lines of a letter to a crush, fan letters, confession letters, letters of comfort and love letters (both requited and unrequited). What happened to that level of raw and honest intimacy?
When I was (a lot) younger, I used to write hundreds and hundreds of letters, many of them still remain unsent. They vary from letters to authors and childhood crushes, to the outpourings of teenage angst onto my parents. Each of them seem so pure, passionate and full of emotion; I can hardly believe that the person who wrote these and I are one and the same! I wonder what happened to this person who used to feel … everything! And could bring herself to express it. What happened to her? This of course led me to question whether it’s possible to train yourself to feel and concurrently express those feelings adequately.
Having nothing but time on my hands (for now), I’ve decided to start a new project that will consist of me writing letters to people I know, from family and friends to barely acquaintances and mere strangers. The names or my relationships to the recipient will never be revealed, but they will all be published, either here or in zines. If I’m feeling brave, I may even post them!