Postcards and Penpals, aged 41

I’ve been writing postcards. A few to people I’ve met in real life or on a Zoom call, but mostly to strangers.

This writing has gently punctuated my working week, taking 10 minutes here to write a card and learning something creative about the recipient in the process, and then 15 minutes there to walk down to the postbox to deposit.

Two cards were sent internationally so required a trip to the Post Office, although it turns out that it’s just 2 x first class stamps that are required to send a postcard from the UK to anywhere in the world. If I’d known that I could have avoided being given some of the most ridiculous stamps I’ve ever seen - the man in the post office giving me four of these and me having to find space on the already cramped postcard to lick and stick them down. One is going to Ireland and the stamp choice felt a bit much. As you can perhaps tell, I’m no royalist.

I digress, because I wanted to write today about the calming effect of postcard (or letter) writing. There’s a sense of purpose to sitting down to carefully write the address, stick on the stamps and then decide on a message. I did it that way around to make sure I could fit everything on after learning quickly when writing the first one and doing everything in reverse.

The postcards I’m sending are currently all from exhibitions I’ve been to over the past couple of years. There’s some Georges Seurat, Hurvin Anderson and some Newlyn School artists bought from the Penzance gallery last year.

I was buying postcards at exhibitions before I had any clue who I was sending them to, but suddenly they’ve found their purpose.

Perhaps some of this has been inspired by reading Virginia Evans’ Women’s Prize winning book ‘The Correspondent’. I think it was the idea of sitting down at a desk as Sybil does in the book, and carving out time for this practice. I was definitely inspired by Louise Gregson-Williams who started doing this first and I loved the concept and copied it. Hope you don’t mind Louise.

Each postcard has my return address on so that (assuming it ever reaches the recipient), they can write back if they wish. Though there’s no pressure to do that.

When I was a kid, I had several penpals. In fact, I was part of a penpal club run by Royal Mail called Hola! (RM was not the intended theme of this post, but it seems it’s where it is going…).

Do any other 90s kids remember this?

Upon signing up you were sent a blue folder (like the one in the image at the top, but mine was not Pocahontas branded) and some airmail paper and envelopes along with some stickers and other stuff. I’m now wondering if that remains somewhere in my parents’ loft along with the letters. Mum, Dad, I may want to hunt when I’m next back.

Through Hola! I had a penpal in France and one in Germany. There was such a thrill when a light blue envelope with an address written in a distinctively european cursive dropped through the door.

I was studying French at school so was able to at least attempt to write something meaningful in the language, but my German… I seem to recall writing one letter to my penpal in German using only a pocket dictionary for help. It came back with many, many corrections. I’m pretty sure I wrote in English after that.

Around 30 years on, I still get that same feeling of excitement when a letter or a card written by an actual person appears on the doormat. I got excited the other day when an envelope with a wax seal and our name and address written in gold pen plopped through the letterbox. Sadly, it was from a more creatively-minded local estate agent who was trying to get our attention. It worked for a minute, until I realised what it was.

But in a way, that estate agent understood the little fizz of excitement that comes when a real hand has written to you.

Perhaps it’s also due to the sea of AI swill we all find ourselves swimming in. This is the backlash.

If you’d like a postcard, fill in your details here: https://forms.gle/Y8HvSHvRjf2pFBCA8

Happy corresponding!

I’m Hannah. I’m 41, childfree and live in London. I left teaching behind to pursue a more creative approach to work. I earn my living from interior design, writing and creating things I’m passionate about including the Creative Career Change podcast I host with brand new episodes about to drop.

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