One Letter at a Time

One Letter at a Time

There is something strange about writing by hand.

It takes so much longer than typing. You can type out a sentence in a few seconds, but writing it with a broad nib takes time. You have to form every letter, leave space between the words. You have to pay attention, be careful, and have a sharp knife handy in case you make a mistake.

And I think that's part of why I grew to love calligraphy.

A few days ago, I sat down to write a passage from St. Ambrose's De Officiis. In it, St. Ambrose recounts the words of St. Lawrence, weeping and admonishing his Bishop for heading to martyrdom without him (be careful what you wish for, O patron of barbecues).

These are old words. Very old words. They've been read and copied and prayed over by Christians for centuries. Millennia, even.

And now I'm sitting at my desk, writing them one letter at a time.

Sometimes it takes a second to get the ink flowing.

When you spend that much time with a sentence, you can't really skim it. You start noticing things.

A word that you've read a hundred times suddenly stands out. A phrase takes on a little more weight. You find yourself thinking about what the author meant, why these particular words have been worth preserving for so long.

Calligraphy isn't simply handwriting made beautiful. The act of writing itself changes the way you encounter the words. It forces you to slow down.

That's part of why I've always felt that calligraphy fits so naturally with prayer.

My tagline for LettersToTheLord is “Closer to God, one letter at a time.” I've always meant that in a fairly literal sense. When I'm writing a prayer, a passage of Scripture, or the words of one of the saints, I'm spending hours with those words. I'm not just making something that looks beautiful. I'm dwelling on something that is beautiful already.

Creating commissioned pieces like this one is a special joy unto itself. Sometimes someone comes to me with a prayer that they've loved for years, a passage of Scripture, their wedding vows, or the words of a favorite saint (in this case, St. Lawrence). They give me the words because those words mean something to them.

And then I get to spend hours writing them.

That's a privilege I don't take lightly.

The finished piece might be what catches your eye, but there are hours of quiet attention behind every line. Every letter had to be written. Every space had to be considered. Making a mistake meant a half-hour spent fixing it, if not starting all the way over.

Sometimes the ink doesn't flow much at all and I need to remix.

In a world where art like mine can be created by AI in a matter of moments, I find myself increasingly grateful for things that weren't.

Things that require patience.

Things that slow us down.

Things that ask us to pay attention.

Things that, God willing, bring us a little closer to Him - one letter at a time.

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Every original begins this way: with time, attention, and one letter after another. If you’d like to see where that quiet work leads, take a look at my available originals. Or if you're interested in commissioning your own, send me an inquiry message with this form. I look forward to working with you and growing closer to God, one letter at a time.