I just had my first reply from one of the people I wrote letters to last week. Clare from California posted with words of thanks and promises to respond. Whether she does or not, I’m gratified that the message has been received. I’ve been reminded these last two weeks the importance of other people in this world. I’ve come to take the constant company for granted. The father of two unpredictable children, I had thought a break would be the perfect cure to what ailed me. Three weeks of solace seemed like paradise. I now know (the hard way) that the missing congress was my lifeblood. While awaiting Clare’s letter, I have nothing to do but pine for my people, far away. Here they are in the living room, a recent day when touching them was little more than reaching out through space.
Matthew,
I had toyed with the idea of responding to your letter, with another real letter, but decided to give you a reply here instead. Which is somewhat less personal (!) but gives me an opportunity to share a few things that your letter writing inspired.
First of all, it was interesting how much a real, hand-addressed letter stands out in the stuff that usually fills my mailbox. Kind of sad, really, but makes it a gift all the more. I mean, you didn’t even ask me for money!
And, I fully concur with what you say about the value of feedback, especially for artists. For one, you never quite know if what is coming out of your head means much to others, and you also never know where new ideas will spring from. I have learned to have faith in the impulse, which is why I am here. You and Robbi (and your babes) inspire me.
And, as for your memories of California, wow, oh wow, did they take me back to my youth. And yes, by all means, come back some time. Twould be a delight for us all, I have no doubt.
What I wanted to share here, was something I thought of when reminded of the power and beauty of personal correspondence. Years ago I saw an interview with Jeff Bridges in which he talked a lot about family. He seemed especially close to his mother, who was alive at the time of the interview. And he talked about a journal that he and his mother passed back and forth. He would keep it for a while, writing to her, including scraps of mementos, photos, poetry, whatever he wanted to share with her, and then he would pass it to her, and she would do the same. I got the feeling they had been doing this for years and years. I can only imagine what a treasure that must be for them all, especially once she passed away.
My husband and I have done a similar thing with travel adventures, taking a journal along in which we all, at some point, write a bit about the trip, illustrating with sketches, scraps and photos. Picking those up, say 20 years after the fact, brings the entire experience back in vivid detail, something I truly appreciate as I get older.
I suppose most of us will have emails, videos, and blog posts that record our lives, but the intimacy of what is written in private is a very different thing. Thank you for reminding me of it’s power. And forgive me for the irony of having shared this here, rather than in a real letter.
Best,
Clare