the room

The literary saloon is on.
sitting on a light-green velvet arm-chair next to the tiffany lamplight we have Violet, and across the room,next to the fireplace, that fine piece of chocolate from Torino, Italy. It's a sweet start to say the least, and since it is now out of my control and whim ,you will never be able to read the body and the onion part two,nor digression B.
Let's,instead, focus for a second on the notion of writing love,versus typing it.
Granted we can indeed type love lines on a screen and send them full of warmth and the intended love, with the simple gesture of pressing the "enter" key on the keyboard, let's consider the more intricate production of picking the right type of paper and the perfect pen, the one that makes you write cool "a's" and artistic-looking "b's", think of how much thought goes down on a piece of paper, where you know words are going to stay and if you need to erase them you have to draw a line that makes them to be there even more. You have to write down the date, possibly the place, you have to consider style over the more colloquialism that e-mails tend to make acceptable, but most of all, the act of writing a word takes more seconds over typing the same word, and it is during those extra seconds, where the eyes follow the ink lines that mark the paper, that the heart expands and feels the love it describes.
As for the receiver point of view, the beneficiary of the loving words, imagine the emotion of finding a letter in the mail box, holding it in their hands before opening it, savoring the pleasure that it contains, imagine being able to smell the page thinking it was touched by the loved one hands (in case the receiver is not in love with the writer,than forget about all this non-sense!),imagine the reader smiling at the clumsy drawings and cute spelling mistakes that the computer program wasn't there for, or watching the line of words progressively sliding downwards, making the whole serenade out of symmetry, a little bit like an out of tune song, but oh so truthful.
And finally, as my far-away friend pointed out pretending he doesn't know about this blog of mine, you can go back and shuffle through old letters and re-read them and re-feel them, but do people do that with e-mails? and would that have the same effect? and I would add this: that invisible string, that tension that keeps the love birds tied together in the waiting period between the moment the letter is sent and the moment it arrives at its destination,making it through long journeys and being at the mercy of a reliable postal service, doesn't that add to the whole experience?
The best love letter I have ever written I destroyed.It was a gigantic sheet of orange paper the table was too small to hold, I wanted that to represent the vastness of my love ,it was bigger than an open newspaper,you could have made it into a kite and stain the sky with a big orange spot full of words.that's what I should have done with it.
Dear Violet I hope you underline your books with pencil only!
My dear Gianduiotti ,I know you will always hold your spoon and fork in separate hands, it has to do with being the sons of the sons of the sons of the daughters!