I’d never be a scribe. Left-handed, and the despair of my teachers. Understand my writing was a scrawl.
One day, I happened upon a little book in the art store. It was a guide to Italic calligraphy. Intrigued, I bought it and began practicing.
Soon, I was scripting elegant notes to family and friends. They could not believe they had come from me, the left-handed clutz. I had a stylish “hand”.
That was many years ago, but I still prize the little book, and when I carve the Italic script, my mind slips back to my little notes.