real life letters

Dear reader,

When I was a young man child, I started writing to church camp friends. Lo and behold, they started writing back. And I realized that a great benefit in writing and sending mail is receiving mail in turn. 20 years later, according to our new year resolutions, we are sending out more letters now, and wouldn't you know it, we're tickled to receive good old fashioned letters in our mailbox, and not just the bills.

Do we require or expect return letters when we send out mail? I do not. I think of letters as little mail treats that for now four dimes and four pennies I can get delivered anywhere in the country (and for a little more delivered anywhere in the world). I like to send them off with "no strings attached". But of course there is a string attached... a little string of love, and I like to imagine these little silky things criss-crossed around the world, weaving together a sort of fabric of human networking and interaction. I like to send them off without the need of anything in return. Now, there is a lost cultural expectation, in American culture at least, which has to do with the requirement of corresponding in turn and also with formalities such as thank yous and so on. There is some good value in this, but I'm not sure how I want to participate in reviving this custom. Especially in the matters of correspondence, which, as I stated, I like to think of as free gifts. Perhaps it is my conservative side and perhaps not, but I think correspondence customs work well in a free market, where letter exchangers are more likely to write more letters and get more letters. If one wants to get more, then one writes more. If one wants to get less, one writes less. On the other hand, I believe in a more literate and giving culture, and I do participate in this blog to inspire us all to write, so maybe I'm less "free market" than I realize....

I do like ellipses.

To close, I want to open a tag/label for envelope art. I like all forms from the simple smiley or quick exterior note, to the ornate and complex. My brother's lone star is somewhere in the middle: