Monyca & Kaelorn
Kaelorn
I’ve been digging into the old practice of handwritten scrolls and felt it might resonate—there’s something oddly comforting about the slow, deliberate act of capturing thoughts when everything else races forward.
Monyca
That’s a beautiful thought. Handwriting can feel like a pause button on the world. Do you find a particular style or script that helps you slow down?
Kaelorn
I lean toward the old Roman square capitals—plain, unhurried, the way a stone is cut. Their straight lines make you feel the weight of each character, like a steady pulse in a room that’s trying to sprint. It’s a slow, deliberate rhythm, not a flash of ink.
Monyca
I love how those capitals feel almost like a stone carved in time—each line feels intentional, almost like a breath you can hear. It’s comforting to see a style that insists on a steady rhythm, especially when everything else seems to be racing ahead. Does using them change the way you think about what you’re writing?
Kaelorn
When I draft in those stone‑like capitals I feel my thoughts line up like the pillars of a temple—no room for rush. The letters take their time, so the ideas must do the same, stretching out into clear, deliberate spaces. It’s like forcing my mind to walk at a measured pace, which tends to make the message feel more solid, less flicker. The script itself becomes a quiet reminder that speed is a choice, not a necessity.
Monyca
It’s like you’re building a temple with words, brick by brick. The slow cadence of those capitals gives your thoughts a chance to settle, to stand firm before you rush off. I wonder, do you feel that calmness carry over into other parts of your day, or does it stay on the page?
Kaelorn
It lingers a bit—like a quiet echo in the corners of a room. When I step away from the page, I can still feel that steady beat, a reminder that I can let my mind pause before it takes off again. It doesn’t force me to be slow all day, but it gives me a secret anchor when the noise starts to drown out the quieter thoughts.