A Farewell, of sorts
Over four years ago, April 2012 to be exact, I found myself tired from the quick pace and bite-sized character of digital communication. At the same time, I became more aware of the joy I found in slowing down and writing handwritten notes of love, life, and reflection to family and friends. Knowing the smiles I found myself in when I received a letter in the mail, I wanted to get more of those smiles moving through the postal system to individuals both near and far.
I started Lovely Handwritten Notes to facilitate this, to foster a larger community of letter-writing cheer. I created this blog on Tumblr, as well as a Facebook page and Twitter account, to document this project and grow its audience. The internet is great for this. Social media is great for this. Today, we have the ability to connect more people from a greater range of locations in a fairly quick way. I was humbled and thrilled by the beautiful people who began quickly reaching out, sharing the project’s posts, and sending in letters.
But, as time progressed, I noticed something in my chest. Rather than that warm fuzzy feeling this project’s beginnings initially brought me, more and more, I felt a pang of stress and guilt. Keeping up the project’s digital presence took a lot of work, even after I procured the wonderful help of two great pals. I found myself in front of my computer screen too often, trying to capture and share letters I’d received and other interesting postal bits to keep the site’s audience engaged. My longer, more meaningful posts about the handwritten craft turned increasingly into the bite-sized digital communications that had left me tired in the first place.
You see, there’s something a little ironic about turning to the digital world to try to preserve thoughts intended to move at the pace of a snail (though, as an aside, I continue to be impressed with how fast the U.S. Postal Service can actually get a letter I write to the other side of the country).
(snail postcard above from Snailmailcool)
There’s a pressure in our society to always keep growing, to keep up, to get bigger, to look for what’s next, to be quick, to be “something.” I’ve tried my best to measure up, but I’ve also found myself stepping back and looking closely for the spots that bring me the most joy.
In the process, I’ve found that I experience joy in longer-form writing. I feel joy in honest human connection. I discover joy in having to take some time to think critically about an issue. I know joy in finding a letter in my mailbox and immediately curling up to read it with tea, as if opening a treasured gift. I create joy in taking my notepad and heading into the forest to write a letter in response about how the leaves on the trees look at that point in the season where I am.
I’ve found myself, in turn, asking: How can I slow down? How can I make this weight smaller? How can this, right here, be enough?
And, well, this brings us to why I’m writing this post in the first place.
After some consideration, my team and I have decided to closeout the online portion of Lovely Handwritten Notes. It has been a beautiful ride, and we’re so grateful to everyone who has participated in each of the individual ways you have. Decisions like this are hard to make, especially when you stop to think of all of the many, many good parts you’ll miss about it. But, the project’s mission has always been: to reclaim the lost art of sending handwritten letters through the post—and, so, we’re going to shift direction a little back to just that.
While we’ll no longer be sharing content on our website and social channels, we will still be writing letters. You won’t hear from us on here, but you will hear from us in the mailbox. If ever you find yourself in need of a lovely note of handwritten cheer, please visit our contact page and shoot us an email with your mailing address—and, you can rest assured that we’ll take the time to sit down and truly write you out some of our hearts; but, do be patient, as, you know, the snail thing.
For now, we’ve also closed out our P.O. Box and are no longer receiving mail, but that could change. If it does, we’ll share that news here—and there’s a chance we may also share some longer-form blogs from time to time on what letter writing means to us.
This project has been such a wonderful ride! Thank you all for being involved.
Signing off the web now to go find my fountain pen—
Yours, Korrin of LHNotes













