Brief aan jonkheer Hendrik Teding van Berkhout (1879-1969) Possibly 1932

This letter was written in Amsterdam on February 12th, sometime in the early 20th century, by Sal Meijer. Imagine him sitting at his desk, pen in hand, carefully forming each word. The dark ink flows across the page, the cursive script almost dancing in its formality. I'm thinking about how writing, like painting, is a kind of performance. Each stroke, each carefully placed letter, reveals intention, yet also holds a kind of tremor, like a fingerprint of the soul. I wonder what Meijer was hoping for, what kind of response he was seeking from Jonkheer Hendrik Teding van Berkhout. You get this sense of seeking connection, of reaching out across the divide. Isn’t that what all art is about, really? We send these little messages out into the world hoping someone, somewhere, will pick up the thread and feel a little less alone. It's a delicate dance, this exchange. It's about finding echoes of ourselves in the voices of others.