Amanda Oleander : The Return of Handwritten Love
There is something unexpectedly intimate about receiving a handwritten letter.
Not just reading it, but holding it. Taking in the weight of the paper, the pressure of the pen, the small imperfections that make it unmistakably human.
“Everybody's handwriting is like a fingerprint… you can see the mess, the misspellings… you can see if they were in a hurry or if they're calm or if they're agitated… there’s so much that seeps through… every handwriting has a soul in a way that you don't get through typing things out.”
In a world that moves quickly and communicates even faster, that kind of connection has quietly become rare.
“There's something so beautiful and vulnerable about seeing somebody's own handwriting… seeing a handwriting has become so rare… I feel like it's a lost art…”
For Amanda Oleander, that rarity isn’t something to mourn. It’s something she’s chosen to keep alive.
Her work begins in the kinds of moments most people don’t think to hold onto.
A passing feeling.
A quiet interaction.
Something small that might not seem worth documenting, but somehow stays with you.
“My art is a reflection of what I have experienced… it might just be a small moment… but to me it means something…”
Instead of trying to photograph those moments, she draws them. Not as they look, but as they feel.
“I wanted to capture these memories because I know that I wouldn't be able to in a photograph…”
Over time, those moments have turned into a visual archive of her life. From dating to falling in love, from a proposal to pregnancy and motherhood.
“Now I have thousands of memories… and I am so excited to have them all through illustrations.”
There’s an intimacy in that process. Choosing to sit with a moment long enough to translate it. To revisit it while creating it. To make something permanent out of something that would have otherwise passed.
At the center of all of it is one constant.
“Love is at the core of all of my artwork… it's usually love that inspires me to create the work that I do.”
That same intention carries into the way she shares her work.
What started as a personal habit, sending letters to friends and family, slowly grew into something more expansive. A way to merge her art with something tangible.
“I started this snail mail art club because it's a way to merge two things that I love, which is art and sending snail mail…”
Each month, her work is sent out into the world. Not as a post or a notification, but as something physical. Something you can hold.
“I’m able to send a new art print every month and send everybody a letter… and send my art pieces all over the world…”
And what arrives isn’t just artwork.
“I hope that it brings them joy… I hope that it brings them a sense of… this is something different that's just for them… and I hope that it forces you to slow down…”
In a mailbox filled with routine and repetition, it becomes something unexpected. Something meant to be opened with intention, not skimmed and forgotten.
Her work has reached people across the world, resonating far beyond language or place.
Not because it tries to be universal, but because it’s honest.
“I think my illustrations resonate across languages and culture because we're not as unique as we think we are… by sharing my own life, I was able to connect and see how we're all just the same.”
There’s a quiet recognition in that. A reminder that the smallest, most personal moments often carry the most connection.
When asked what love means to her now, the answer is simple, but grounding.
“Love is the most important thing in every aspect of a relationship… If something is done with love, then you know that you're doing it right…”
It’s something she actively returns to.
“I always think, how can I do this with love? or how can I look at something with love?”
A question that shapes both her work and the way she moves through the world.
“I make waves by creating artwork… by leading with love… by sharing what I love through art.”
Amanda’s work doesn’t ask for attention.
It doesn’t need to be loud or performative.
It simply asks you to slow down.
To notice.
To feel.
And maybe that’s why it stays with you.
Because it reminds you that even the smallest moments
are worth holding onto
and sometimes, worth sending out into the world.
This story was created by Making Waves Project as part of Ways We Love, our February series exploring the many forms love takes in our lives. From romantic and platonic relationships to self-love, care, intimacy, and connection, these stories highlight how love is practiced, learned, and expressed in deeply personal ways.
Through these conversations, we hope to expand the definition of love beyond expectation and highlight the ways it shows up in everyday moments, relationships, and choices. Love is not one thing, and it looks different for everyone. These stories invite us to slow down, listen closely, and reflect on how we give and receive it.
If you or someone you know has a story about love that deserves to be shared, we would love to hear from you. And if you are a brand interested in partnering with us to help tell more stories like this, reach out at hello@makingwavesproject.com.
Follow along with Ways We Love on our Instagram and YouTube, and explore more stories at makingwavesproject.com/stories.
Photography by Robiee Ziegler
Produced by Katie Caro
