ANDRE BEGIN

I admit that when we first started learning cursive back in primary school, my handwriting was pretty bad.

I can only assume that those first attempts were sufficiently horrendous for my mother to take the time to find me an exercise book and to ask me to practice a bit more at home.

Maybe it was a bit of a pride thing on her part. The fact that she was a grade school teacher at the time, who was also tasked with teaching cursive, how can she have a son with such horrible penmanship?

I totally get it.

However, she didn’t have much to worry about.

Ever the admirer of creativity and beauty, in seeing examples of nice penmanship that I found pleasing to my own eye, some favourite elements were cherry picked into what became my own unique style.

Through the grades, as more writing and notetaking was involved, I got to practice my craft and to produce pretty pleasing penmanship rather than resembling a printout from an electrocardiogram.

By that point, Mom had nothing to worry about anymore as the style that eventually became my own served me well throughout the years.

I was often complimented on my nice penmanship, whether filling out an envelope for photo processing in my pharmacy days (before digital cameras) or when taking a phone message for a colleague who was away from their desk (before voice mail).

It was always nice to hear, but because that style had become second nature, I took it for granted. It was just the way I wrote.

But fast forward about 25 years, when 90% of my writing takes place tapping away at a computer, my cursive just isn’t looking the same anymore.

I sometimes try to prime myself into thinking “écriture du dimanche” a French saying that translates to Sunday best, which I still don’t quite understand. Why should your handwriting look nicer on a Sunday than any other day of the week?

Despite trying to get back into the mindset of compliment-attracting penmanship, the absence of everyday practice in controlling the pen for perfect lines and loops gradually rears its ugly head. However, when I really concentrate, I can still write something that looks very nice.

For example, when I am working on a grocery list which either myself or my partner could be using, my handwriting needs to be clear and legible so that I don’t get a text message back asking what’s that word between “chili powder” and “cucumber”. (For the record, no, my grocery lists are not in alphabetical order… those were just two randomly selected grocery items.)

However, it’s when ideas for a writing project are flowing like sap on a warm spring day and are coming quickly that perfect penmanship often gets sacrificed in the interest of trying to capture a brainstorm.

Don’t we all have those moments when we least expect it, that the perfect words magically appear to finally stick the landing on an article that has been in almost-ready status for weeks or months? It then becomes a battle between quality cursive versus losing our train of thought and miss recording a moment of potential literary brilliance.

However, it’s when I look back at a quickly scrawled note and I have a hard time interpreting my own chicken scratches. That’s when I start cursing at my cursive.

Now, when you add to the equation aging hands and my first flare ups of arthritis, there are days that my writing hand doesn’t always follow orders as it usually does.

When that happens, I just have to let the chips fall where they may, scribble whatever comes out, and return to it as soon as I can to recapture the pearls of wisdom or the perfect punchline I was trying to write in the first place.

Maybe Mom was right and it’s time to find a new exercise book for practicing my cursive again.

Did you enjoy this post? If you did, your likes and shares are most appreciated.
If you haven’t already, please check out the rest of my blog at andrebegin.blog. From there, you can click on the “Follow” button to receive future posts directly in your inbox.
Sincere thanks for reading!
Have a great day,
André