Stories from the pile of bull in my brain

Cursive

     I have discovered, quite by accident that I write in cursive. At this revelation I became rather joyous, I have often heard about the positives of learning cursive, and people saying that they wish they could write in cursive because of "aesthetics".

     To find out that my spidery, skittering letters are in fact a part of this elite club, that they hold a form that others strive for makes me feel a spark of pride.

     For many years I have considered my handwriting messy and substandard, others have informed me of its illegibility and so it has been a mild source of shame for many years. However, now when I look at the tall curling font I can see a sort of tarnished elegance in it, a little like Dickens' Miss Havisham (though less insane and sadistic)

     Things like old gardening journals now come to mind, Austin novels and long train journeys in First class coaches, with a chandelier rattling overhead as you document your travels to the far flung corners of the earth. Top hats and parasols are conjured, images of crushed green velvet and swagger canes now come to mind rather than ideas of incompetence and poor spelling.