Copyright: Rijks Museum: Open Domain
This letter, penned in 1932 by Ton Meyer, is all about the dance between intention and accident, something I think about a lot in my own work. Look at the way the ink kind of pools and bleeds in places, especially in the signature – it’s like the words are breathing, expanding beyond their neat little lines. The dark ink on the pale paper makes a stark contrast, emphasizing the texture of the page itself, you can almost feel the grain. I mean, what is handwriting but an abstract expression? Think about that signature, those loops and curves are a microcosm of Meyer’s personality, frozen in a moment. It reminds me a bit of Cy Twombly, the way his scrawls feel both deeply personal and strangely universal. It's like Meyer is whispering secrets across time, and all we have to do is listen.
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