The Unadulting Society

I write letters to my niece every Sunday. With a fountain pen, on good paper. It takes me about an hour. She's nine and she writes back in crayon. Neither of us is doing it 'right' and that's exactly the point. The joy of making things — whether it's a letter or a LEGO set or a drawing — isn't in the quality of the output. It's in the act of showing up.

a stranger smiled at me on the sidewalk. not a weird smile. just a quick, genuine, "hello fellow human" smile. it lasted half a second. it still made me feel like i existed and my existence was acknowledged and that was enough.

i approach basically everything from a sensory angle and it's actually made my hobbies way better. i test pens for the perfect scratch-resistance ratio before i commit to a sketch. i have opinions about paper weight. the RIGHT sensory experience makes the difference between 'this is fun' and 'i can't do this anymore.' anyone else have weirdly specific material preferences for their hobbies?

my favorite song came on the radio right as i pulled into my driveway and i sat in the car for three extra minutes to finish it. it was the first time today i wasn't rushing toward the next thing. just three minutes of music and stillness. that was the good thing.