I Miss Handwriting

I used to hate growing up without the latest technology. It was just my dad and I for a lot of my growing up years, and most years we barely scraped through financially. I was fortunate to grow up to watch the big clunky tan computers give way to sleek black powerful machines and the bricks of cell phones transform into thin powerhouses of connectivity. 

Now at 25, I haven’t even had my smartphone for a year yet. Before that, I had a tablet with limited connectivity to wi-fi. Before that, I had a hand me down laptop that crapped out six months into me having it and a desktop that might get the file open in the next century or so. 

What is my point?

As a writer, I grew up and went through school handwriting all of my drafts (and never really typing them up). 

Since I got my job, I have upgraded my phone, and my laptop and I have been typing up more original works rather than handwriting them. I thought it was making me more productive, skipping the step of having to write it, then type it, then edit it, etc, etc, but after having this technology for nearly a year and using it daily, I feel like I am less productive. 

Lately, I have been having these intense urges to create something with my hands. I have been having the urge to draw or paint or do something physical with my hands, and let me tell you, I am definitely not an artist, or a painter. 

I think these urges are because with my phone, my hands remain relatively stationary and maybe it feels like I’m not creating masterpieces because it’s not a physical representation. It’s all in the cloud. 

I’m not bashing writing technology or saying it is inferior in any way. I just miss hand writing my drafts. 

I miss holding up a notebook or a binder full to the point of bursting with written pages and saying “I wrote this!”

I miss writing little ridiculous notes in the margins relating to characters or the events of the story. 

I miss the beauty of hand writing and the messy lines and curves of my own writing. 

I miss the little doodles in the corners. 

I miss the feeling of lined paper under my hands and the ink smudges against my pinky after writing for hours because I am left handed. 

I miss the complete artistry of handwriting. 

My mom’s handwriting compared to mine. Isn’t it beautiful?