June 7, 2006
Email. We take it so much for granted. Yet it’s not that long ago that the word itself would have meant nothing to anyone. I remember a time when I used to write letters. Lots of letters. There was something magical and extraordinary about the very act of sealing up an envelope and delivering it to a letterbox, knowing that that very same envelope would be handled, touched and opened by the person I was writing to. There was, and still is, an inherent poetry to the whole process. And email? Well, extraordinary, yes. But magical? I’m not so sure.