I’d like to talk about an occasion roughly two years ago when I received an official letter completely out of the blue. At the time, I was living in a shared flat in Leeds, and to be honest, our doormat was usually only covered in takeaway leaflets or utility bills.
One rainy Tuesday morning, I noticed a thick, cream-coloured envelope sitting in the hallway. It turned out to be from a prestigious arts foundation based in Edinburgh. About four months earlier, I’d submitted a portfolio of street photography for a funded summer residency. The official notification date had passed several weeks prior without a word, so I’d naturally assumed I hadn't made the cut and had simply written off my chances.
When I carefully slit the envelope open, I discovered that one of the shortlisted candidates had withdrawn at the last minute, and the selection panel had unanimously decided to offer the vacant place to me, complete with a generous living stipend. I was absolutely over the moon. I just stood there in the corridor, reading the acceptance letter three times over because I couldn't quite take it in.
This news came as a tremendous surprise for two main reasons. Firstly, the fellowship was fiercely competitive, with hundreds of experienced applicants vying for only three spots across the UK. Secondly, in this day and age, almost every organisation relies on quick emails or automated portals for updates. Getting a formal, hand-signed letter in the post felt wonderfully old-fashioned, and turning what I thought was a failed application into a huge success made it an unforgettable moment.