Pen to paper thousands of years a connection through the ages not felt when going tap, tap, tap. Parchment and quill papyrus and stylus rock and chisel generation to generation passing words. It is comforting to know that millions of people are in my words using my hand to tell their story. I am connected to monks to Queens to cavemen by the scratching of my pen. Comforting, renewal of purpose from this pen to this notebook as I am reminded that we all begin this way. Too many screens for children today no connection to time-honored tradition and the joy of ink. Disconnected from books unappreciative of the sacrifice of trees lost to the understanding of those that came before and the gift of words they gave. Words are being digitized individualism and personality shown by the stroke of the pen is being replaced by the fonts representing others. The smell of the paper how you curl the tail of your y how you cross the top of your t do you add a saucy flair with a purple, glittery pen. Soothing, quiet, connected requiring no other power than that of a creative mind and a hand that was perfectly built to hold a pen to paper.