Something handwritten can tell a story, but what story can you tell about something written by hand? This project is about two meetings, one in the present and one in the past. Both have been made possible through handwritten letters.

Today we consume more letters than ever, however the origin of the letter forms and  the handwritten letters has almost completely disappeared. How does this affect our way of remembering? What is lost when all our communication is delivered in the same font, and our handwritten signatures have been replaced by signatures on a screen?

I searched for the meaning of the manuscript and found it in a collection of letters in which the senders and recipients share my surname. The first letters are from 1939 and these letters are the only things that are preserved from the senders. The letters exist so that the recipient could be saved, while the senders remained. The handwritten words in the letters constitute their last meeting, and at the same time they have made possible my first meeting with them.

Even though we never talked about this, it's a part of my story. I wanted to fill the void left by the senders through the manuscript and give form to the story in the same way I took part in it. There was not enough room to talk about everything in the letters and some things could not be spoken of, but I started sending letters that I addressed “Return to sender”.  This is a compilation of what I can make known.