Do you have one of these?
It's my treasure box. Organized it is not. The broken ceramic picture frame with the little pink and blue ducks on it that was given to me by my fifth grade boyfriend to hold his class picture mingles with my Eurail pass and the record-breaking 21-page note my best friend Julienne wrote me in eighth grade. The Fricklet's sono-glamour shot is tucked beneath the letter my Pop wrote to me when he decided that a poem I wrote him in high school secured my place in "Pop's Hall of Fame" next to Joe Louis and Babe Ruth. It's a jungle in there.
But when I stand back to take the long view, it's clear what most of my memories are made of: paper. Specifically, letters and notes. I come from a long line of prolific letter writers. My Granny still writes a letter a week to each of her three daughters- a tradition that began with each of their weddings. My box contains letters from best friends, from my MFA advisors, from loved ones living and gone, from the boyfriends of my awkward adolescence. There's air mail from Madagascar, Holland, and Spain. Some of the letters make me cringe. Some make me cry. Others make me laugh out loud. They're all treasures.
Do you have one of these?
It's my own stationery...station. Increasingly, as I've come to appreciate the handmade over the mass-made, it's filled with Etsy finds. Which brings me to Fricknotes. A father-daughter venture. A fiber lover plus a pro photographer. Something new! I'm really excited about it and would love to hear your thoughts on the shop.
People are always saying that letter-writing is a lost art. I don't know about art, but I do know about treasure. Write a letter today, will ya?