Monday, July 2, 2007

you should


i am a big one for giving advice. i can hardly imagine a less attractive quality in a human being besides actual homicidal tendencies, but there you have it.


my advice today:


WRITE LETTERS!


i mean it. there are few things where the return so outstandingly overshadows the effort. i write outrageous letters because i don't have to live with them. i just send them on their merry way and never look back. i kiss the envelopes when i drop them in the post box the way that Francis Stellof (founder of the Gotham Book Mart ) used to say her father kissed the books he accidentally dropped. i kiss my letters as if inanimate objects could store tenderness, warehousing love for release at a later date.
i can conjure the look of pleasure when they hit the hand for which they were intended or when my penmanship is recognized amongst a pile of bills and grocery store inserts. How many times have i thrilled at the small corner of Angelo's brown envelopes, Scottie's old Olympia's type face, Jeremy's allegiance to green pens.
i try to do them justice with my replies, they are the best of me, like the best of anyone, only fully realized once they are given away. my letters are dashed off in cursive, they are invariably misspelled, i never reread them, i never rewrite them, i never correct anything lest i reneg on a fleeting bold sentiment.

the letters i have been lucky enough to receive are some of my most valuable possessions. i schlep at least 50 lbs of them around whenever i move - which is often. i have hundreds- maybe thousands, because i am attracted, somehow, to other letter-writers. i tie them in ribbons or push them into books. i am not a very reverent reader of anything, precious post included, my envelopes are shredded carelessly in haste, their contents stained with coffee, grease, blood or worse. i don't care very much, my relationship with paper has always been a carnal one.
they change me and their rereading changes me again.

recently one of my letters was excerpted and published in a friend's article about donating sperm. he sent me a photograph of the letter in question and i was charmed by it...in its new life in the sun of Marseille. I felt a bit like those people who train seeing-eye dogs and then send them to their new homes, it was rare and nice to see my letter in action, doing its job.


I've gotten great compliments on my letters, but, to be honest, none have ever taken me more than 25 minutes to write. i say this only to incite you. they are like art and babies - a chance to make something good out of nothing special- except heaps less work. so do write to someone immediately. please.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

move over, Dear Abby! The difference between your advice and most other people's advice is that yours is beautiful and funny and sad and true. Keep fightin' the good fight, sister. -alm