I had a crack at calligraphy when I was a kid. I should explain, I begged my parents, for what felt like years but was probably weeks, to get me a calligraphy pen. I promised I would be really good at it. I insisted it could be a talent, a career, something to be nurtured. I kept on and on at them until they finally relented.

I was proud as punch of my new calligraphy pen. It came with a twenty-page instructional guide which I, of course, did not read. I didn’t need to, you see. I was sure I knew the fundamentals of calligraphy without any formal training or previous experience.

And what do you know? I was wrong. Had to happen eventually.

Anyway, I tried, but I never quite learnt how to tilt the nib for proper swirling letters. To be fair, I’ve always held a pen like I’m trying to make a human figure out of my fingertips, so there was probably an off-putting amount of technique to be learnt.

The way I look at it now – you can appreciate art without actually being an artist. And look how pretty it is.