This excellent blog post on Save Snail Mail….it made me think of the seductive physicality of a sketchbook, filling it, splashing paint and ink, cutting and pasting, stamping, stenciling…the feel of the paper, the smell of ink and paint.  Very real, very tactile.

Play play play!

When you give yourself over to it, it takes you away to a part of yourself you’ve maybe been missing.  I thought of email when I was reading this post–how disembodied, how totally lacking in intimacy and time, how lifeless, really.  Efficient–yes!  Fast–yes!  Lots and lots of good things…but the kind of intimacy and physicality involved in letter writing?  Not a chance.

I thought of writing a friend who lives here in town, enclosing a little doodle, just for the heck of it…would that be too weird?  But an email, no not weird at all. Email is not weird.  It’s not even notable.

Same with play.  Same with the abandon that comes to you when you make space for it.

Get yourself a blank book and start playing.  It’s good for you!

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