Found in the Wild

Went out for ice cream, and came home with a pen

There's a great little ice creamery about 15 minutes away from our home. It being a sunny Sunday afternoon, we decided to run out to Snoqualmie Ice Cream and grab a dish of ice cream as a treat.

Snoqualmie Ice Cream is in a fairly rural area, at a crossroads known as Maltby. Just down the street, tucked behind some other buildings, is an old antique shop we've never managed to get to before - it's not open all that often.

Well, it was open today, so in we went. And just inside the door, in one of the cases, was almost an entire shelf full of fountain pens.

Nothing terribly fancy, but a pretty wide assortment - three or four Esterbrooks, a couple of Sheaffers, two or three Eversharps -  you get the idea. I got pretty excited when I saw a Parker True Blue junior for $15, but it was in pretty bad shape and had a Sheaffer student nib in it, so I passed.

I did come home with this - a Carter. Obviously used, with the de rigeur dried blue ink in it, it has a 14k nib and is in good shape with only minimal brassing. The barrel suffers a bit from the discoloring so common in certain colors of that time (about 1930). It was marked at $20, but it came home for $18 plus tax. (I paid cash, and had chatted up the owner about how it was going to a good home, I'd have it resacked and use it; I think it influenced his pricing.)

I don't think it's a sumgai find by any means, but it's a great memento of a lovely Sunday afternoon.

Oh - ice cream? I had toasted coconut, and salted caramel. Yum!

The Sunday Post, October 16, 2011

Marooned

Well, not really...but it is a bit of an explanation why it's been kinda quiet around here the last couple weeks.

Joe and I took a ten-day vacation to Maui. We stayed in a rather nice hotel, which charged us (among other things) $25 per day to park the rental car and for "high-speed" Internet access.

The throughput for their "high-speed" access topped out at 9.9kbs, by my calculations. Wow, my modem 20 years ago did better than that. Not to mention the connection dropped about every 90 seconds. Literally.

I quickly gave up on my idea of being a modern-day Hemingway, tapping away at my keyboard in tropical climes, enlightening the world with my musings...such as they are.

All I can say is this: if you get a chance to go to Maui, take it. We've done some traveling, though  not as extensively as some it's true. We have always enjoyed our vacations, but of all the places we've visited, Maui is the only one I'd go back to without a thought. Absolutely beautiful, the people are generally friendly, and it has a small-town feel to it. The microclimates are amazing, ranging widely over a relatively small area. I also learned a fair amount of history - which I didn't expect.

For pens, we took one six-pen case and were each allotted three slots. I took my Ivory Levenger True Writer, the Danitrio Moon Shadow, and a Laban Mentos with a broad nib reground to a stub by Oxonian (this pen hasn't yet been featured here...hmm). Joe took a Rotring 600, a Levenger Sea Glass (he said it suited the beach), and Levenger Kyoto. My kids gave me a lovely journal by Orange Press for my birthday a few weeks ago which was eminently suited for vacation journaling. Rather than worry about bottled ink in the luggage, I bought a sampler of cartridges from Levenger to take with us. I am fairly certain that Private Reserve makes Levenger's ink. I'll have more to say about the Levenger ink in the next couple of weeks; generally speaking it was unobtrusive, and unremarkable, in performance - which was just fine under the circumstances.

Joe comments that he didn't write nearly as much as he usually does because we were so busy doing things. By contrast, I felt I wrote more than usual, since I had so much more time than I generally do. By these statements I think one can tell who is retired in this household, and who is not. Hmm.

We got home late Thursday night, and ever since, I've heard Israel Kamakawiwoʻole's famous version of "Over the Rainbow" in my head, and I've spent an inordinate amount of time looking at ukuleles online and wishing I had the time to learn how to play one. I may yet buy one, at least to add to the collection of musical instruments laying around the house that I don't have time to play.

I'll leave you with a few snapshots of Maui. I opted not to take my big Nikon with me, only a Panasonic point-and-shoot; I now wish I'd decided differently, but these didn't turn out too badly.

Aloha from Seattle...

The Sunday Post: August 14, 2011

Sometimes It's the Little Things

I'm sure all of us are aware of the upheaval the world seems to be in at the moment. In light of all the serious things going on, how can I maintain a simple little blog like this?

I am certainly not unmindful of the many troubles out there; I see this blog as a little bit of peacefulness. I just want to bring a little enjoyment and beauty to others.

And, speaking of enjoyment and beauty, Joe and I just got back from a few days away, and I thought I'd share a few pretty pictures with you. Hope you enjoy them! These were taken over the last few days in Langley, WA.





 Here is a link to an album with the individual photos.

Expanded horizons

Life Beyond Fountain Pens

Joe is a true fountain pen fanatic. In fact, when we recently were signing some legal documents, I was very proud of the fact that he actually didn't make a fuss when he was asked to sign with something other than a fountain pen. Usually such occasions elicit protest from him. (Of course, he was somewhat pacified when I loaned him my Retro 51 Cioppino rollerball.)

Yes, I know there are bulletproof inks. The truth is, sometimes it's just simpler to go along with the attorney/escrow closer/whomever than to fight that battle.

I also work in a busy office with a lot of different people, most of whom don't know what do to with a fountain pen when presented with one. The reactions generally fall into two different camps: either they're afraid of it, almost to the point of not wishing to touch it, or they get aggressive about it: yank on the cap, press hard while writing.

In either case, offering a fountain pen to a coworker doesn't end well.



A few of my Retros,  from L - R: Copper, Dreamcatcher, Cioppino, Bamboo

 For these reasons, I've got a few non-fountain pens in the collection. As you might tell from the mention above, most of them tend to be Retro 51s. I find them to be of durable construction, well-balanced, comfortable to write with, and much less intimidating to the general public. People still tend to be careful with them because they're "nice pens;" I haven't had to go chasing after anyone trying to walk off with one, and yet they know how to use them.

For work, my strategy is to keep the fountain pens near me, and out of easy reach of visitors to my office. I keep a Retro or two front and center for others to use - as well as for me in those situations where a fountain pen wouldn't really work well.

I am of course always happy to delve into the joys and mysteries of fountain pens, should anyone ask; those inquiries seem to be few and far between within the general populace, however.

I'd love to hear in what ways others have expanded beyond fountain pens in their daily lives too!

The Sunday Post: July 24, 2011

A Kodak Moment: Whose Memories are These?

Joe and I recently took a day trip  to a local town. We did the tourist thing - walk through the shops, stop for coffee and pie at a local restaurant, go digging through the antique stores.

In one of the stores, I came across a basket of old 35mm film canisters.



(as always, all photos are clickable)
I think I've mentioned before that at one time I did a fair amount of film photography. My grandmother was president of the local camera club, and bought me my first SLR at age nine. I did nearly all of the sports and "color" photography for my high school paper and yearbook during my last year of high school. I had thought of being a professional photographer, but a year of lugging two big, heavy Canon SLR cameras around with me everywhere cured me of that desire.

And then I got through college, went out into the working world, and put the cameras away pretty much completely. It's only with starting this blog that I've gotten back into it at all. Things have changed a lot since the last 35mm SLR I got, whose claim to fame was a built-in light meter! In some ways I'm having to learn all over again due to the many advancements that have been made.

The film canisters brought back memories for me; they were older than most of what I'd worked with, but still similar enough for nostalgia. I picked one up, and was surprised to see it had a roll of negatives in it.

Whose memories did I hold in my hand?

Notebook selection: the bane of my existence

I must admit it. I was one of the people who lamented loudly the demise of the Quo Vadis Habana 1.0. For those unaware of this situation, the Quo Vadis Habana as sold in the United States was a bright white, 90g Clairefontaine paper with a fairly wide ruling. That is, until a few months ago, when the makers decided to standardize the Habana worldwide, and went to an off-white 85g paper with a narrower ruling.

Preferences are a funny thing. I've been struggling with what to say in this post for weeks now. As I was thinking about it on Saturday morning, I realized that I was trying to formulate a neutral approach to blogging about a journal with cream-colored paper that I dislike - I want white paper for journals - and yet I was writing a letter to a friend on Crane's stationery that is essentially the same color, with which, for correspondence, I am quite content.

As my mother always said - there's no accounting for taste.

All confessions aside, here are photo comparisons of some differing journals that are currently fairly popular. I hope this helps you in choosing a journal.

The Reports are Greatly Exaggerated...

With apologies to Mark Twain, here is today's blog post, brought to you by:

Danitrio Moon Shadow - Pilot Iroshizuku Kon-Peki
Montblanc 149 - Diamine Violet
1920's Parker Duofold - Caran d'Ache Amazon
1990's Parker Duofold - Noodler's Ottoman Rose
Levenger True Writer - Caran d'Ache Caribbean Sea
Clairefontaine Triomphe paper

Please click on the image to view.




The Sunday Post: April 17, 2011

The Pen Whisperer

It's funny how people assume you're an expert in something because you have an interest in it.

I have never successfully repaired a fountain pen. My one attempt, many years ago, involved a vintage jade green Duofold which needed a new ink sac. I succeeded in getting the pen apart, put the new sac on with clear nail polish (don't do this, I beg you), and then couldn't get the section all the way back in the barrel no matter what I tried. I didn't want to force it too much due to its age and fragility. I finally sent it off to someone who knows what they're doing, who kindly did not mention my pathetic and ignorant attempts to "restore" the pen, undid what I had done, and sent it back in working order.

Now that I've confessed this travesty, it makes the next statement all the more ludicrous by contrast.

People at my office have begun referring to me as The Pen Whisperer.

The assumption seems to be that, because I like fountain pens, I can solve whatever woes someone may have with any given pen. Regardless of writing mechanism.

In an odd way, I have contributed to this myth.

My first contribution to it involved some old fountain pens that a coworker's mother had dug out of her desk at home. My coworker brought them in and asked me what I could tell him about them. Well, one had been an early Duofold; it was missing the blind cap and part of the pen cap and clip, and had been extensively chomped on to the point that we joked he'd used it when teething. Nothing to be done there. The next was a Sheaffer Skipper that appeared to be in working order but I didn't want to try inking someone else's pen as an experiment - those touchdown filling systems are complex and I couldn't be sure it would work.

The third was a 1980s Cross. The only thing wrong with the pen was that it had been put away with ink in it. I happen to have an ultrasonic jewelry cleaner, so I took the pen home and ran the nib and section through probably 15 cycles, then flushed it extensively with an ear syringe, using the classic water/Windex/dish soap mix and then clear water. I flushed out the cartridge that had dried ink in it, filled it with my standard test ink of Waterman Florida Blue, and wrote Pat's mom a nice note with the pen so she could see how it wrote.

I then took it back to work and gave it to him (having flushed it clean again). To my horror, he offered me money for the "repair." Which I did not accept; I don't take money from friends for favors, and in my mind I didn't really repair anything. But the story went around the office that I'd "restored" his mother's pen.

Then, a few days ago, someone I was in a meeting with was having trouble with a retractable ballpoint; another attendee said, "give it to the Pen Whisperer!" and I was handed the pen with an expectant look.

Well, the thing simply wasn't screwed tight together, and one or two bits had worked their way out of alignment. A little fiddling, a little tightening; click-click! "There you go, all better now."

Look, magic!

Um, no.

Heaven help me if someone ever hands me a pen seriously in need of repair; my cover will be completely blown. In the meanwhile, however, I am enjoying the Pen Whisperer rep, however undeserved.

A perspective

Collect? Or accumulate?

One man's trash is another's treasure, as the old saying goes.

Another thing I collect is rosaries. I have probably ten or twelve of them. Just as with the pens I have, there is no real theme other than "ones I like." That theme is good enough for me. If that tags me with the "accumulator" label, so be it.

I once had occasion to meet a man who had collected rather nice examples of all of the 1920s Waterman ripple "color nib" pens, one of each ring color. Once I'd gotten over the idea of the cost involved in such a collection, I wondered at the concept. So, one collects them simply for the privilege of saying one has a full set? The owner of these pens told me he actually didn't care for some of them, finding the nibs not to his liking, so he didn't use them. That seems a shame to me.

This also reminds me of some of the "limited edition" pens that I see for sale, years after their initial release - new in box, never inked.

We have a family term for these. Beanie Babies.

People can certainly do as they wish - but my focus is always going to be on pens I enjoy and will use, regardless of their age, manufacturer, or even condition. I won't buy an expensive, unused collector's pen because I would want to use it, and that doesn't seem fair to those that would value it as a collector's item in its unused state.

To me, the pens are tools to enjoy and use for expressing myself. Not decorations to be put on a shelf to admire, or in a safe so I can say I own them.

My Accidental Acquisition

(all pictures are clickable)

I'd like to introduce you to a couple of friends of mine. Here are my oldest pen, and my newest pen.

But it's not what you might think.

The Black and Pearl Parker Duofold was the first fountain pen I acquired as an adult. I had used fountain pens in high school and college (mostly to be "different"), but set them aside once I graduated - until I met my husband, who used them. He bought me the black and pearl one year for Valentine's Day before we were married, I believe in 1990 or '91. It was a new pen at the time.

Thus began a twenty-plus-year love of Parkers, and particularly of Duofolds - old and new. Some of my other Parkers are the highlight of this post.

The burgundy and black Duofold is my latest acquisition - now fondly known as the Accidental Duo. This pen had been on eBay, and I decided to place a snipe bid (yes, I know some consider snipes unethical, cheating, etc. Fact is, if someone else is willing to pay more than I am, they'll still win. Truth. It's happened, more than once.)

Well, I didn't look too closely; I thought I was sniping in US dollars, but it was British pounds. At that time, one British pound was about equal to $1.75. A bid of 100 British pounds would be $175. So if I put 100, thinking it was dollars, and it turned out to be $175, imagine my surprise.

We were out for dinner, and I checked the listing on my Blackberry and saw it was over what my high bid was going to be (in dollars - if it had been in dollars!). I commented to my husband that I wouldn't get it - then, ten minutes later, got an email - "You've won!"

What?

I am fortunate in two things on this: (1) The bidding didn't go close to what my snipe was - I would have paid way too much for the pen; and (2) It's a great pen. From various markings I believe it was made between 1931 and 1935. It has one or two flaws, but overall it's in great shape. I expect when I'm 80 or so I'll have more than a few "flaws" myself!

The ink on the nib, by the way, is Diamine Syrah

I did a few comparison photos of the pens. It's fun to see the similarities and differences. There are several photos of the two pens here.

The burgundy and black Duo is a "holy grail" color for me; I've wanted one for years. I'm very pleased this pen joined our family - even if it was an accident!

The Sunday Post, February 20, 2011

Tick Tock

In the front hall of our home stands a grandfather clock. This clock was my grandmother's, and has been mine for close to 20 years. It's a kit clock, built and purchased when I was very small, and probably not worth a lot to anyone but me. It chimes every 15 minutes, in the classic Big Ben sequence.

Anyone who has lived with a chiming clock will agree that, after a while, one simply doesn't hear the clock chime unless one wants to. Visitors don't have that same reaction; my two-year-old granddaughter is fascinated with the clock, and every 15 minutes it requires some comment by her - usually an enthusiastic "Tick Tock!"

The clock brings back many memories of my grandmother for me; for one of these I have a peculiar fondness. Every time I spent the night at my grandmother's as a child, I slept in a hide-a-bed in the living room. Right next to the clock. That chimed every 15 minutes. And believe me, I heard it.

You can imagine how well I slept. Not.

Fast forward some 30 years, and I'm telling the story to someone of trying to sleep next to the clock, and never succeeding. My grandmother, also in the room, finally asks me why I never said anything to her. "Sheila, I could have stopped the clock! It never ran right anyway!"

But then I'd have no story today, and probably not half the fondness I have for the clock now.

Which, by the way, runs perfectly. It just needs to be leveled. Grandma wasn't the most mechanical in the family.

Happy little bluebirds

I don’t have an unlimited budget for fountain pens. Most other people don’t either. And there are a lot of inexpensive fountain pens out there that are perfectly good. There are also a number of them that aren’t. I will be spending some time looking at some less expensive pens to explore a wider range of what's available out there. Here's my first attempt at that.



The other day, I bought a pen purely as a novelty, not really expecting the thing would be much good. I didn’t spend very much money for it. It’s made of glass, and allegedly reverse painted. I think it really is reverse painted; Joe and I spent some time looking for signs that it was a decal or paper insert of some sort and can’t find any indication that it isn’t reverse painted, though I expected to find it wasn’t. It has a nib labeled “GENIUS IRIDIUM GERMANY.”

Genius is (or was) a Chinese or Taiwanese brand; they apparently had legal issues with a Major Brand (the capitals are your hint) because some of their pen designs featured a white plum blossom on top of the dark-colored cap, somewhat resembling that Major Brand’s offerings – in that one respect at least. I don’t believe Genius is still in business. Much of what I read tells me that I should assume the word “GERMANY” is decorative, not an indicator of the nib’s origin.

I bought the pen because I’d not seen anything like it. When it first arrived, I was pleased to see it came with a halfway decent piston-style converter. I inked it up and….

Nothing.

I twisted the piston.

Nothing.

I twisted the piston some more. A blob of ink came out between the section and the nib. Still no ink to the nib.

I took the barrel off, pulled the converter off of the section and flushed and flushed and flushed it, using an ear syringe and cool water with a drop of dish detergent and a splash of Windex, then flushed some more with plain water.

Stuck the converter back on it.

Look! It writes! And actually not too badly!

The section is shiny metal, and rather tapered; this makes it difficult for me to hold. I am happier grasping it near where the section screws into the barrel. Which means that I’m not too happy writing with it, since that’s an awfully long way back to hold a pen.

Still, as one of my first forays into inexpensive and novelty pen territory, it’s better than I thought it would be. The nib is pretty much a nail, but it’s also pretty reliable. And I also happen to think it’s kind of pretty.

The Sunday Post: February 13, 2011

The Critter Highway

Our house appears to be in the middle of the Critter Highway. There is so much traffic that there's practically a path worn through the yard.

Midway along our back fence there is a divot, a depression dug out in the earth. This is the portal to and from the pasture behind us. I've seen that "gateway" used by possums, raccoons, squirrels, cats...all sorts of creatures. And, unless they're stopping to nosh at the bird feeder or the squirrel feeder, or get water out of the fountain (or a convenient puddle - this is Seattle after all!) they invariably come through the divot and around the west side of the house. It might as well be a marked highway. Honestly.

I was told that, for years before the house was built, there was a den of coyotes about where my family room now is. You'd think that would discourage other foot traffic through the area, but there it is. (The coyotes moved north; I can still hear them.)

More than once over the years we've filled the divot in with dirt. It's no use; it just gets dug out again. In precisely the same place. Just to the left of the Japanese maple tree as you face south. We've finally given up and let them have their way.




The Critter Highway Underpass


I'm not quite sure why we've been favored with this, but it makes for some fun and interesting viewing. The other day I looked out the window, and saw a juvenile red-tailed hawk sitting on the fence post not twenty feet away looking back at me. He flew off before I had a chance to grab a camera. (He'd positioned himself halfway between the bird feeder and the squirrel feeder, and just above the divot - equal opportunity hunting, apparently.)

Enjoy your Sunday; I'll be enjoying mine watching the traffic go through the yard...

Sweet! Okay, well, maybe not.

The other day, I obtained a Staples Sustainable Earth notebook, filled with bagasse paper. If you've not heard of it before, this is paper made with byproducts from sugarcane processing. We all know that emphasis on conservation and use of renewable resources has increased over the last several years. While I don't think I'm in the forefront of the environmentally aware, I am certainly happy to consider products that are alternatives to those more traditional and more environmentally impacting.

My first reaction in feeling the paper was, "Wow, this is weird!" It has a texture and feel quite unlike any other paper I've ever used. Although its performance is not similar, the feel and sound of it (the word "crinkly" comes to mind) reminds me of the old onionskin papers that were much in use when I was young.

The paper has an almost brittle feel to it that is rather unique.

I am not terribly impressed with its performance with fountain pens. Keep in mind, it's simply one notebook with bagasse paper; I wouldn't generalize from one specific instance and conclude that bagasse paper is never FP friendly.

That being said, though...

For as hard a finish as it feels like it has, the paper is actually pretty absorbent. This leads to a fair bit of feathering with a fountain pen, especially some of my wetter writers and broader nibs. The paper is also quite thin, not dissimilar to tissue paper in thickness (though not in feel), so there is a lot of show through as well. This is not a paper that one could write on both sides of easily and legibly with a fountain pen.
So, while I can't say it's not ready for prime time, I can say the notebook seems optimized for more mainstream use - in other words, the ballpoint pen users of the world would probably be perfectly content.

Using this notebook reminds me a bit of an experiment a friend and I conducted a few months ago. We are both fiber artists, and we gathered up samples of every "weird" fiber we could find, and spent an afternoon spinning the different fibers into yarn. This included a variety of unusual things - bamboo, crab, recycled plastic bottle fiber, corn, and milk byproducts, all of which are now being marketed as "renewable resource" - type fibers for fabrics.

And almost all of them were - well, just plain nasty to work with. The recycled plastic bottle fiber actually squeaked as I worked with it, and felt almost oily. It made for a fairly short afternoon, although we had a lot of product to work with, since neither one of us really cared for most of the raw fiber nor for the completed yarn. And I don't think it was the oddness that was the issue; the "hand" was actually unpleasant. The only one I thought tolerable was corn-based - mind you, this isn't corn silk, it's some byproduct from producing corn syrup that's liquefied and then treated to become fiber. Most of them, in fact, were byproducts of other processes which then went through a fair amount of processing again; I always have to wonder whether the idea is better than the reality in things such as these, where so much processing is involved to get a usable product. Ready-made yarns of some of these fibers are massively expensive by comparison with more conventional yarns (wool, cotton, etc). Our afternoon with the fibers and our spinning wheels made me wonder how viable a replacement some of these things actually are.

I'm not willing to give up on bagasse paper based on this one experience, though, so I think I'll do a little hunting around and see if I can come up with a more premium level bagasse paper to do a comparison. Stay tuned...and let me know if you have suggestions! Thanks!

So what is a girl's pen, anyway?

Good friends of ours, Budd and Judy, joined us for dinner last night. We hadn't seen them since well before Christmas (he was in Egypt - a tale for a different time!), so we had a belated Christmas celebration last night as well. Part of our gift to Budd was a bottle of J. Herbin 1670, since he is also a fountain pen user.

I pulled out my pen case to grab a pen that happened to have 1670 in it, so he could see what the ink looked like. He asked to look at the pens, and of course I handed the case over - I have no worries about accidental damage or mishandling by Budd, since he knows his way around a fountain pen.

He looked them over for a few minutes, and then suddenly looked at me and said, "These are awfully big pens for a girl! These look like men's pens!"

This echoes a debate I've seen once or twice before on FPN, and it always puzzles me.

All kidding (and my husband's reassurances) aside, I haven't met anyone's definition of a "girl" since Duran Duran was the hot ticket. This means, among other things, that I have just a bit of arthritis in my hands - though, oddly enough, it's worse in my nondominant right hand. This is partially why I prefer bigger pens; they're easier for me to use.

But I also remember having a Sheaffer NoNonsense-like fountain pen in high school in the '70s and using it frequently. They called it something different then, I believe, but it was essentially the same thing. Those aren't exactly small, delicate, frilly things either.

So here's a shot of my pen case. (As usual, I have eight pens crammed into a six-pen case. Not recommended, of course, but I can't seem to help myself.)

A quick roll call:

Top, from left to right: TWSBI Diamond 530/Caran d'Ache Storm; Danitrio Tosca/Wancher Matcha.

Bottom, left to right: Parker Lapis Ringtop/Waterman Blue; Parker True Blue Ringtop/Waterman Purple; Taccia/J. Herbin 1670; Levenger True Writer Ivory/Diamine Evergreen; Levenger True Writer Seaglass/Caran d'Ache Caribbean Sea; Waterman 0552 1/2V pansy panel/Waterman Blue.

What's your take? Girly? Not?

I Take Pen in Hand...

One of the unexpected pleasures I’ve derived from becoming more involved in fountain pens and the fountain pen community is my interactions with others. For example, through the Fountain Pen Network I have acquired several correspondents.

My current correspondents are a varied lot: men, women, young, older, students, professionals, homemakers, living on three different continents.

So what do we all have in common? Well, the obvious answer is an interest in fountain pens and writing, of course.

But the commonalities go beyond that. The emphasis, pretty consistently, seems to be on how everyone is getting along – how the family is; the job situation; economic difficulties – even the weather. The human condition. And though our backgrounds are in some ways quite dissimilar, we can all relate in one way or another.

I have a job in middle management, with a staff of 55. I deal with well over a hundred emails, texts and phone calls each day. I’m not trying to boast of my importance (because I’m really not that important!); the point is that I communicate with a lot of people every day of my life.

And yet, when I began this written correspondence, I was surprised at how out of practice I was in letter writing. I hadn’t actually written a letter by hand in many years. There’s something contemplative in sitting down with paper and pen to compose a letter; the speed of execution is such that one can thoughtfully construct the letter rather than dashing off the first thing that comes into one’s head. I enjoy the opportunity to slow down and take the time to really put something of myself into the process.

And I’m trying to bring that same approach to this blog. I hope I’m succeeding.

I Write a Rainbow

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.

However humble.