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The text face used here (as well as elsewhere) is Broadsheet. The home page letters are set in Emily Austin & Lamar Pen. All typefaces referenced on this website Abigail Adams, American Scribe, Antiquarian, Antiquarian Scribe, Attic Antique, Austin Pen, Bonhomme Richard, Bonsai, Botanical Scribe, Broadsheet, Castine, Douglass Pen, Emily Austin, Geographica, Geographica Hand, Geographica Script, Houston Pen, Lamar Pen, Military Scribe, Old Man Eloquent, Remsen Script, Schooner Script, Terra Ignota & Texas Hero (as well as all other fonts in the Handwritten History Bundle)are the intellectual property of Three Islands Press (copyright ©19942015). For site licensing contact: Three Islands Press P.O. Box 1092 Rockport ME 04856 USA (207) 596-6768 info@oldfonts.com |
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Posts Tagged ‘penmanship’
Sunday, July 18th, 2021
Lately I’ve been thinking about all we’ve been missing with the extinction of writing by hand. The conspicuous losses jump first to mind: handwritten letters in hand-addressed envelopes, sticky notes on refrigerators, a cursive greeting in a holiday card penned neatly in a familiar hand. But there’ve been lesser, unintended losses, as the digital devices we’ve rushed to adopt have brought solutions to problems we never knew we had.
Now that so many of us are connected by wires (or wirelessly), communication is virtually immediate. Apps like Zoom, FaceTime, and Skype can let us simply chat with one other—although that solution does require some scheduling. A quick email (my personal preference) can be dashed off anytime, to be read at once or later, depending. Approval can be communicated via a single emoji 👍. And we can choose these days from gazillions of memes to share more complex, subtle, and/or humorous thoughts.
Think of those littler details that once amused and surprised us: the note stuck under a windshield wiper, the words of love on a folded scrap of paper snuck into a jacket pocket, the doodled self-portrait or sketch of a cat in the margins of a handwritten letter that appears in our old-timey mailbox.
But Now We Have Phones
The iPhone hit the market a mere fourteen years ago, and already billions of us keep smartphones ever within arm’s reach. Why mess with pen and paper? Why monopolize the use of multiple fingers when you can simply use two thumbs?
What are our excuses for missing out on such things? The witchery of new technology? Lazy bones? A fixation on saving time?
Take, for instance, cursive or hand-lettered fonts that replicate real script. (Guilty as charged.) We need not even wield a writing instrument—no hand cramp, no inky fingers. Just specify a font and tap for a while on a keyboard, and you can pretend to have taken the time to respect your correspondent by composing a letter in longhand.
Oh, the irony. 😉
Miscellanea
» Turns out handwriting does seem to lead to faster learning in kids.
» Hallmark introduces Sign & Send™, which lets users hand-write their own messages—then upload photos of those messages. (Why not just do it the old way? 🤔)
» In the olden days, some folks used handwritten postcards the way these days we use phone texts. Back when we weren’t in such a hurry.
» A handwritten message in a bottle gets delivered after nearly a century (sort of).
» Cursive instruction is still happening out there, as uplifting stories like this will attest.
» It seems the practice of writing by hand (like a lot of topics) can whip up quite the debate these days.
» Keeping a journal is good for your mental health—and handwriting that diary is even better.
» Finally, from North Country Public Radio, this story on a seminar titled “Technologies of Writing in the Age of Print.”
Tags: cursive instruction, cursive script, diary, handwriting, handwriting lessons, handwriting recognition, journal, journaling, longhand, pen and ink, penmanship, writing by hand Posted in Communication, Cursive, Education, Handwriting, Longhand, Old Letters | No Comments »
Sunday, February 11th, 2018
 Page of a letter from my ma.
For decades I’ve ranked typing as the most useful class I took back in high school. I hated showing up for this particular summer school elective, my story goes, but by the end of the class I could type 40 words a minute. It was like magic. And now I can type 100.
Well, lately I’ve begun to regret my supreme keyboarding skills.
It took a good while to sink in. But just the other day, during my morning hike with Jack, my dog, the true ramifications hit me. Having somehow reached Retirement Age, I’d been ruminating on the written materials I’ve produced over the past 40 or 50 years, both personal and professional. And it occurred to me that—for the past 30 of those years, anyway—nearly all endure as but flimsy digital words. Many thousands of email messages, hundreds of letters in Microsoft Word, text files cram-packed with thoughts and notes and reflections. Intangible, ethereal. All stored, like thoughts, in memory.
 A page from my dad’s Army diary.
Even the drafts and revisions of books I’ve authored abide only in digital form.
These things I’ve written exist on various hard drives, in cloud storage—even a few old Zip drives. Remember floppies? SyQuest disks? I’ve got a few of those squirreled away in boxes somewhere.
Projecting time forward a generation or two, I realized that the chances any of my stuff will stick around long enough to find its way into a historical museum somewhere (not that it should) are paper thin. Because none of it’s on paper. And the only way to get it there is to find a way to translate all those 1s and 0s into computer text and print it out. In any old font you want.
Boooring.
But project time backward a couple generations and, and you’ll find journals and notebooks and postcards and stationery filled with handwritten words. Whether cursive or printing, neat or sloppy, slanted this way or that—each style reflects the unique hand of its author. And none of it was put down at 100 words a minute.
 Card from my grandparents to my great-grandparents.
I have handwritten letters from my mother, diaries written by my father, postcards from my grandparents. I recognize their familiar cursive styles on envelopes, on the backs of old photos—photos developed in a darkroom, I mean. There’s probably even an old handwritten recipe collection somewhere.
Yet where does my penmanship appear? On a few old love letters and poems perhaps, in a couple or three decades-old notebooks.
On that hike the other day I decided to pick up a pen more often, to write lists and notes, cards and letters, maybe even fill a notebook. My hand might not be practiced, or cursive, or neat. It might take me a while to get over the hand-cramp. But I expect it’ll mean more to the future reader than a bunch of digital words set in, say, Comic Sans.
Miscellanea
» See? “[A]ll that will be remembered of them is what they typed on a piece of paper from a computer.”
» Turns out this gang of fourth graders are diggin’ cursive these days.
» Some might even (like me!) become experts on deciphering old penmanship.
» The uniqueness of individual handwriting makes the news again (Roy Moore).
» Random aside: There’s actually a bull named “Penmanship.”
» And, hey, with Valentine’s Day coming, maybe it’s time to write a love letter—by hand.
Tags: cursive script, diaries, ephemeral words, flimsy digital words, handwriting, handwriting in schools, handwritten letters, historical preservation, journals, keyboarding, legibility, letter-writing, notebook, penmanship, personality, poor penmanship, texting, transitory text, typing Posted in 20th Century, Communication, Cursive, Education, Literacy, Longhand, News, Old Letters, Penmanship, Ruminations | No Comments »
Sunday, September 17th, 2017
 My cursive handwriting test.
A confession: my cursive handwriting sucks. I write by hand so rarely these days, and when I do, it tends to come out as a sort of stylized printing I forced on myself thirty or forty years ago. So I just tried writing a few short cursive sentences on an index card to see what it looks like.
Yeah, it sucks. In fact, I couldn’t even remember how to write a capital “T.”
Alas, I’m not alone. What got me testing out my cursive today was a recent news item about how Cambridge University educators are considering dropping their handwritten exam requirement—after more than 800 years. The problem being that the faculty is having trouble reading students’ handwriting.
 18th-century penmanship from Kentucky County, Virginia.
“There has definitely been a downward trend,” says history lecturer Sarah Pearsall. “It is difficult for both the students and the examiners, as it is harder and harder to read these scripts.”
Bummer.
A Need for Speed
But I’ve long predicted this. Our smart digital devices are feeding our need for speed when it comes to all forms of communication. I mean, let’s face it: it takes a lot longer to write a thank-you note by hand than to tap out a text with your thumbs. Sure, taking the time to learn cursive might be good for your brain, your manual dexterity, and your memory, but first-world humans just prefer living in the fast lane these days, apparently.
 The handwriting of Meriwether Lewis.
This got me wondering (not for the first time) how things might change if the grid goes down. Say a computer virus, an asteroid, a natural (or nuclear) disaster, solar flares, or Siri Personified takes us all offline in an instant. How will we communicate over long distances in such a post-apocalyptic scenario? Well, I reckon we’ll have to go back to scribbling out notes using charcoal on birch bark and handing them to a courier, who will deliver them to our remote recipient in person. And I can imagine the dismay on the face of our correspondent who can’t read a word we’ve written.
“Return to Sender. Illegible.”
Learn by Doing
Perhaps at the very least it’s worth practicing—if not your cursive—your hand-printing every now and then. Maybe by jotting down a grocery list, composing a thank-you note by hand, or authoring an actual letter, inserting it into an envelope, and dropping it in the U.S. Mail. I daresay pen makers and the U.S. Postal Service will appreciate it, as will your recipients. So long as they can read your writing.
The irony is that, during the decades of the decline of my penmanship, I’ve taught myself to decipher various styles of cursive handwriting from centuries gone by. And you can bet there’ll be someone with similar skills to help us out centuries from now:
“Siri, read me that old cursive letter.”
Miscellanea
» Cursive makes you smarter: a wonderful essay about all this stuff.
» Another articulate argument for not scrapping handwriting instruction.
» To heck with handwriting recognition: recognizing handwriting is a moving experience.
» Geneva, Ohio, honors the master penman who created Spencerian Script.
» Yes, truly exercising the brain sometimes takes a little time.
» On the 200th anniversary of Jane Austen’s death, a graphologist reveals a few secrets.
» Finally, Darick “DDS” Spears has released a new hip hop album called “Penmanship.”
Tags: bad penmanship, cursive, cursive hanwriting, digital devices, grid goes down, handwriting, handwriting in schools, handwritten letters, illegible, letter-writing, long-distance communication, need for speed, old handwriting, penmanship, poor penmanship, post-apocalyptic, practice, teaching cursive Posted in 21st Century, Communication, Cursive, Education, Graphology, Historical Figures, History, Literacy, Longhand, News, Old Letters, Penmanship, Ruminations, Specimens | 2 Comments »
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