Handwritten

Perhaps it's the Jane Austen lover in me, but I try to make an effort and send handwritten letters and cards to people. (Fun fact: I write all my handwritten pieces in purple ink.) And I have a pen pal; I've maintained a written correspondence with my real-life friend, Hallie C., throughout college -- quite an accomplishment, we think, considering we graduate next month.

I've never reread a letter I've sent anyone, and I wonder what it'll be like to revisit those letters 10 or 20 years in the future. I remember writing a letter to Hallie during my first few days of college in my Dobie 213 dorm room. And I remember writing about my first college crush -- someone way out of my league and, in retrospect, not worth doting over.

Similarly, I love reading old letters written by people of historical importance. My favorite ones are those written by E.B. White. But really, anything written by E.B. White is worth reading. And then there's this postcard containing a charming doodle by none other than Pablo Picasso. I wonder what he wrote on the other side.

Pablo Picasso, postcard to Jean Cocteau, 1919