I am never content with just one or two pens inked. I also tend to like rather esoteric colors. No dull blacks for me, no thank you! Currently, I have six pens inked. They contain Wancher ebine, a shocking pink; Private Reserve Fiesta Red; Noodler's Forest Green; Wancher Imari blue; Caran d'Ache Sunset; J. Herbin Poussiere de Lune; and Caran d'Ache Storm. Oh, and Noodler's Black Swan.
Astute readers will notice that makes eight. Always cram as many pens into the case as you can. You never know when you might run short. (Stunt driver on closed course; always wear protective eyewear; don't try this at home.)
Invariably, when writing in my journal, I write about five lines in each color. And I somehow, unconsciously, choose pens by ink color so that the page looks like a rainbow when I am finished.
This makes the pages of my journal rather pretty to look at.
I am no artist, but there is an aspect to my journaling which feels like art and looks like it. Duality to the exercise of journaling; while recording my thoughts, I am simultaneously creating. Drawing letters, colors and rainbows while drawing conclusions. With a flourish.
The act of journaling also feels more like creating than like writing. I can type about 100 words per minute; there's no way I can write that fast.
How interesting to think: my life, mundane as it is, creates a work of art.