The Art of Contentment
Aug. 2003 ] 7:52 PM
I hate looking at my handwriting these days. Uneven, ill-formed letters. It requires too much of an effort to hold a pen and swivel it in the art of calligraphy, or the plainer, more prosiac form that passes for day to day use, the literate art of forming nicely shaped letters that I did.

Now, it is merely a functional script. Ugly and sometimes bordering on barely literate, the letters irregular and sometimes even unformed properly. Functional. Serving its function. What happened to my drive? My passion? Which was evinced in my handwriting? My perfection? Drowning in mediocrity, in functional, in practicality, in the art of contentment.

wax ] wane
Site 

Meter