In the late 19th century, stamp use was often indicated with a manuscript cancel, especially on revenue stamps. The cancel was applied with a nibbed pen and ink. Today, the script cancel is making a comeback. We’ve all received mail cancelled by the hand of zealous postal workers. The nibbed pen is gone, often replaced with a broad-tipped black permanent marker. These cancels have been the subject of numerous complaints in the philatelic press, because they deface beautiful stamps and at times are even an insult to properly cancelled mail items. More than once, however, I’ve considered starting a specialized collection of these cancels. But then I think, “To what end?”
A favorite of mine is the First Day Cover displayed here, thoughtfully prepared by a philatelic friend using the “World of Literature” stamp from Great Britain’s Millennium Collection set of 1999–The Artists’ Tale. You can guess my reaction when I found this letter in the mailbox: “!#..!*#” But the cover also intrigues me. This could be the centerpiece of my contemporary manuscript cancel exhibit. This particular script cancellation is well-considered and undoubtedly from a practiced hand. Note how many of the lines mimic the angles of the book illustrated on the stamp. Also note how many lines crisscross. (Crosshatched cancels were common in ‘old’ days.) The energy and overall positioning of the script on the stamp is also appealing. Finally, what a marvelous sequence of juxtapositions: delicately articulated postal cancel and frenetic script cancel; quill pen from days of yore and ballpoint pen scribbling today; postal cancel ‘kissing’ the stamp’s bottom edge, and script cancel smothering entire stamp; two postal workers displaying quite different approaches to the same task.
I love this cover.
I’ve long forgotten when I first saw the 1969 East German stamp that pictures the Planeta-Variant printing press, an amazing machine that had a significant presence in my professional life. When I first sighted that stamp while still a student, I probably didn’t bother to note the press name in the upper left corner. The stamp is one of two promoting the annual Leipziger Fruhjahrsmess (Leipzig Spring Fair), a trade fair that traces its roots back to the Middle Ages. 
The famous exhibition logo (at right) designed by 
Today I did just that, and was drawn to the 1993 stamps from the People’s Republic of China featuring paintings of Zheng Benqiao. The six stamps of the set were used on two first day covers—three stamps on each. One of the covers is shown above. The beauty of the calligraphy and the use of delicate brushstrokes in the paintings gently, but profoundly, convey a sense of peace and balance in life.
Zheng Benqiao (1693-1765) was from Xinghua, Jiangsu Province, along the eastern-central coast of China. He began life poor, and his father taught him as a child to paint. Through singular application to his studies, he became a magistrate in Shandong Province, but was uncomfortable with the magistrate’s life and critical of the life of government officials. After a little more than a decade as magistrate, he was reportedly criticized for building a shelter for the poor, and he resigned his position. He then began selling paintings to earn a living.
Zheng expressed himself through his artwork. He was adept at freehand ink and wash painting and was eventually recognized as one of the Eight Eccentrics of Yangzhou, known for their individualistic and expressive artistic styles. Zheng is best known for his drawings of bamboo, orchids, and rocks. His calligraphic style was influenced by his drawings of graceful orchids and firm bamboo. He stressed the combination of poetry, calligraphy and painting, adding lines from poems to his paintings to more fully express this themes.
Why do I collect stamps? The images! Many collectors want to delve into the meaning behind those images—to explore. I do that too, but oftentimes it’s simply the imagery that excites and satisfies me.
I always look closely at stamps featuring houses and trees. Why? I’m just interested in the amazing variety of structures people build for themselves.
simplicity of their appearance—trunk, branches, leaves—has more affinity for me. And maybe it’s their size too. Maybe it’s because I climbed so many as a boy and could hide in the cover of their leaves—watching all from above. And maybe too it’s because we children could 
play with our little cars and soldiers and cowboys in the raised roots of the fat old oaks behind our house.
stop will be the 
Spring is coming to the Mid-Atlantic (too slowly for me). Has it always been thus?
What a difference 800 years makes—even 10 years! In 2016, Liechtenstein gave us the 
My Favorite Gutenberg stamp was issued by Germany in 1983, one of a pair of Europa stamps. That stamp features a piece of cast metal type against a background of Gutenberg’s gothic type letters that can be found in his printing. The stamp focuses on the most significant aspect of the printing method he developed—movable type. And personally, I see in the imagery of one piece of movable type against a background of numerous printed letters as a graphic metaphor for the explosion of knowledge that Gutenberg’s “invention” made possible.
