We don’t realize always instantaneously the changes while they happen and when we might take a little of distance, which could allow us to get a broader perspective over them, they have already become so familiar to us, that we cannot notice them anymore and we take them as if they had always been there, like that.

We have managed to get faster and faster in all what we are doing in our daily life, as if speed was the only way to exorcize time.
We have become more impatient and we have lost the memories of past times, when people seemed to live well at a different pace.

There is an obvious advantage in being able to transmit news and get information instantaneously, I have not any intention to put it in discussion, but there is also a subtle pleasure in slowing down certain things to savour them even better.
To consume every pleasure in a too fast and hectic way forces us necessarily to taste only the superficial flavour of it. We need time to get deeper.

Maybe it would be more enriching seeking to do everything at the right speed; savouring the hours and minutes rather than just counting them.
It’s about quality over quantity in everything related to our life.

It’s probably more important doing everything as well as possible, instead of as fast as possible.
This principle is even more valid when we come to the sphere of human communication.
Without denying the practical role of email, which helps us to keep in touch on real time, I think we can find also space for a rather obsolete form of communication, as real letters, handwritten postcards and all those concrete messages, which are delivered by old fashioned mail and we can keep concretely in our hands and then put in a drawer or between two pages of a book.

This written form of communication, the slow one, has become unusual and for this reason even more precious nowadays.
It’s worthy for the time it has taken to reach us and for the time that the sender has dedicated to compose it.

How many sms can one frantically type on a mobile phone keyboard, how many insipid messages can one post on aseptic virtual social networks during the time someone else needs to buy a postcard, to handwrite a personal text, to put a stamp on it and to walk until the next mail box?

It’s time which makes certain gestures more precious than others, more personal.
I deeply enjoy receiving personal postcards and letters and it doesn’t matter if they take days to reach me, when they arrive, they bring me something unique, the time the sender has offered me as a gift.

We didn’t find the way to waste also the meaning of a postcard depriving it of its individualism yet; for the moment it’s still impossible to copy and paste a postcard...luckily!