So, I don't really need a day to celebrate writing by hand- I do so every day, in one form or another. Journal entries, grocery lists, jotting things down in my agenda, making notes to myself... I got as far as I could in the whole "computers save the day" bit, but little everyday tidbits get done by hand. That said, I'm happy to recognize and celebrate National Handwriting Day because it gives me a reason to really THINK about how handwriting impacts my daily life.
As I look around me, especially in my general untidiness, I can see too many examples of handwriting to count. My name, written in bold capital letters, on an envelope that I received from Harley Davidson containing a congratulatory letter and a gift card after I won a contest. Myriad 3x5 cards with lists, reminders, interesting facts, addresses, and who knows what else. An invoice from the heating and air conditioning company that says I paid $75 and should have my furnace cleaned next fall (with an exclamation point!). A piece of scratch paper with a list scribbled on it of our Thai food order. A grocery list, with "coffee" starred three times- I guess we were especially low that week. Another piece of scrap paper with scribbles on one side; I must have been testing a new pen. Post-it notes with names, facts, opinions, and reading reminders sticking out of the books on the shelf above me. I could, and should, recycle most of it. The one thing that really stands out, that I won't be recycling any time soon, however, is something that was created on a computer and printed. It's a note from my husband that has two huge interlocking hearts on it saying, "You are still my favorite thing in the world. -YLH" that he wrote after he got his dream motorcycle and I was jealous of the new lady in his life.
To me, writing something by hand is an emotional, personal experience. It helps me remember things- even if I never check that list again, writing it by hand solidifies it in my memory until I can check each item off. Running a line through an item or placing a big check mark next to it is satisfying. I keep a running commentary in important books (often on Post-it notes, but sometimes on the pages themselves) to have a conversation with the author or to remember certain points. Love letters are written in curly, expressive cursive. I take extra care in writing holiday cards or thank you notes, to ensure that my words are legible and express the sentiment that I feel. My husband doesn't share this opinion- he's more comfortable with computers than I am, and if he had his way we wouldn't keep any paper in the house for any reason. That he printed his little love note to me is a pretty big deal, really, and I acknowledge and appreciate it as such.
We're living in a world that's much faster-paced than that of our parents or grandparents. We send an email and get a response almost immediately. When my grandfather jotted hellos to his friends and relatives, he had to wait days, or weeks, or months for a reply. I don't wish to trade places- I like how quick our correspondence is today. However, I'll still keep a sheet of stamps tucked away in a drawer so I can write a letter or send a card, and wait days, or weeks, or months for a response. Writing things by hand slows the entire process down- it allows me to really consider my words carefully, because I can't easily delete what I've written. It makes me slow my thoughts to keep time with my hand. It connects me to my emotions in a way that typing never can.
Even though my husband created his note on a computer and printed it, I don't think any less of the sentiment that he wanted to express. It was a way of drawing a connection between his emotional expression and mine- I got a piece of paper that I can see every day, and he got to use the medium that made him comfortable. I'll enjoy seeing it as much as I enjoy reading the cards and recipes that my grandfather wrote years ago. I run my finger over my grandfather's words ("Happy birthday, doll. I love you. Granddad") and feel a connection to him because they came from his hand, but I never find myself doing so with my husband's note. However, I know that both -the printed and the hand written- came from love, and it's that that I love the most.
Computers and handwriting both have their place, but to me those places are rather far apart. I see computers as part of the practical realm, while pen and paper is for everything else. With that in mind, I'm going to celebrate National Handwriting Day by writing a letter, engaging in conversation with a book, and then writing a note saying "I love you" to my husband to slip into his coat pocket so he can find it sometime tomorrow. I imagine he'll send me a text when he finds it, and I'm completely fine with that.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Pilot Capless 50th Anniversary 2013 Limited Edition
The few; the strong; the retractable.
I must have been a very good girl this year, because I was gifted a Pilot Capless 50th Anniversary retractable fountain pen for Christmas. Oh, it's beautiful and writes like a dream. I've found an excuse to pull it out every day since I received it, and let me tell you, my grocery lists have never been more exciting to write.
It's made of maple with gold accents and an 18kt gold nib. Mine has a medium nib, but it produces a much narrower line than American mediums, so I didn't bother swapping it out for a fine. It is beautifully packaged, coming in a matching maple box with surprisingly strong magnetic closures and holding ink cartridges, a converter, and a number plate. 900 were produced worldwide, with 300 allotted to the American market. Maybe I'm not one in a million, but I'll take being one in 300. Have I mentioned that it's retractable? How neat! It operates with a click mechanism that opens a small door just inside of the tip and releases or replaces the nib, forming an airtight seal when it is closed.
Because of its high price point and my inability to easily replace it, this is not a pen that I carry. It's a pen that lives in its box and is returned to its box when I've finished using it. However, despite the many things I've read about it being intended for collectors, I had no qualms about inking and using it. From the get-go, it produced a strong, flowing line, with no skips or issues. It's a pleasure to use! The only issue I had was pulling the converter to replace it with a cartridge, and that was due to my fear of breaking it with too strong of a pull. Needless to say, I didn't break anything and successfully inserted a cartridge. I gave the cartridge just a brief squeeze to get the ink flowing, but it didn't need much before I was able to write. And oh, how it writes.
To be honest, I would never have purchased this pen for myself. The whole limited edition thing doesn't do much for me, and while I can justify carrying around a $175 Vanishing Point (the name of the resin line of the same pen, coming in many different colors) I'm having a hard time imagining turning the $550 Capless into a purse pen. I'm sure it would hold up to the purse environment- it's sturdy despite its soft feel and beauty- but I'm not willing to risk possibly destroying or losing it. Someday, I might add a Vanishing Point to my collection (or my purse), but I'm more than content with the Capless right now. I'm incredibly grateful to have received it, and the fact that I got such a thoughtful and kind gift makes it all the more special. Even if it doesn't travel with me, I love pulling it out daily for the writing I do at home- journaling, list-making, etc. The fact that I keep it in its box has turned everyday writing into a bit of a ritual. Opening it to use it turns every day into Christmas Eve, where I unwrap it and take a moment to reflect not only on the beauty of the box, the pen, and the overall presentation, but also on how lucky and grateful I am to have received it.
I must have been a very good girl this year, because I was gifted a Pilot Capless 50th Anniversary retractable fountain pen for Christmas. Oh, it's beautiful and writes like a dream. I've found an excuse to pull it out every day since I received it, and let me tell you, my grocery lists have never been more exciting to write.
It's made of maple with gold accents and an 18kt gold nib. Mine has a medium nib, but it produces a much narrower line than American mediums, so I didn't bother swapping it out for a fine. It is beautifully packaged, coming in a matching maple box with surprisingly strong magnetic closures and holding ink cartridges, a converter, and a number plate. 900 were produced worldwide, with 300 allotted to the American market. Maybe I'm not one in a million, but I'll take being one in 300. Have I mentioned that it's retractable? How neat! It operates with a click mechanism that opens a small door just inside of the tip and releases or replaces the nib, forming an airtight seal when it is closed.
Because of its high price point and my inability to easily replace it, this is not a pen that I carry. It's a pen that lives in its box and is returned to its box when I've finished using it. However, despite the many things I've read about it being intended for collectors, I had no qualms about inking and using it. From the get-go, it produced a strong, flowing line, with no skips or issues. It's a pleasure to use! The only issue I had was pulling the converter to replace it with a cartridge, and that was due to my fear of breaking it with too strong of a pull. Needless to say, I didn't break anything and successfully inserted a cartridge. I gave the cartridge just a brief squeeze to get the ink flowing, but it didn't need much before I was able to write. And oh, how it writes.
To be honest, I would never have purchased this pen for myself. The whole limited edition thing doesn't do much for me, and while I can justify carrying around a $175 Vanishing Point (the name of the resin line of the same pen, coming in many different colors) I'm having a hard time imagining turning the $550 Capless into a purse pen. I'm sure it would hold up to the purse environment- it's sturdy despite its soft feel and beauty- but I'm not willing to risk possibly destroying or losing it. Someday, I might add a Vanishing Point to my collection (or my purse), but I'm more than content with the Capless right now. I'm incredibly grateful to have received it, and the fact that I got such a thoughtful and kind gift makes it all the more special. Even if it doesn't travel with me, I love pulling it out daily for the writing I do at home- journaling, list-making, etc. The fact that I keep it in its box has turned everyday writing into a bit of a ritual. Opening it to use it turns every day into Christmas Eve, where I unwrap it and take a moment to reflect not only on the beauty of the box, the pen, and the overall presentation, but also on how lucky and grateful I am to have received it.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Initial Thoughts on Noodler's Ahab
I recently learned about flex nib fountain pens and was instantly curious about them. I have all of these delusions that they'll make my writing exponentially more beautiful and that my holiday cards next year will be greeted with notes and calls complimenting my exceptional penmanship because I'll have had a year of practice. OK, I know that that's unrealistic, but a few fantasies can't hurt, right?
I ordered a Noodler's Ahab Demonstrator on Amazon and received it a few days ago. This pen is going to be a problem. It's one of those things that, because I can't stand it, I'm obsessed with it. I hate it so much that I love it.
A few things first: it's made of vegetal resin with a no-frills steel flex nib and metal accents. Being a demonstrator, it's clear, allowing you to see how much ink you have left; however, the Ahab comes in many different colors. It comes with a pull piston-fill converter and instructions as to using an eyedropper to fill the barrel. It's made to be customized, and everything is fully removable for modification or cleaning. It's price point is low, comparatively- I bought mine for $22.22, on sale from $24, and I've seen them in the $19-$27 range. I got Noodler's Black Swan Australian Rose ink to go with it, and have only used this ink with this pen thus far.
Straight out of the box, I was disappointed in the Ahab. As soon as I pulled it from the box I smelled baby butt. The vegetal resin, or celluloid derivative, of its construction is smelly. It reminds me of fresh diapers and baby powder, but others have said it smells like vanilla or soap. Other reviews suggest covering it in baking soda, washing it a million times, or just waiting it out for the smell to dissipate. I'm going to stick with the latter, unless I'm driven crazy enough to try other measures. It has a distinct aroma that stays on your hand for a long time, even after thorough washing. Also, the clip on my Ahab (meant to be reminiscent of a whale, hence "Ahab" from Moby Dick) is slightly askew, which really bothers me. I've bent it back a bit, so it's slightly more straight, but such a slight didn't help my first impression of this pen.
Once I inked it, the Ahab wrote steadily for a good three minutes before losing its line. I had to dot it, and eventually depress the plunger a bit, before it would write again. If I capped it and left it sit for a half hour or more, it would completely lose its flow and need more dotting and plunging before it would write again. Further, I experienced slight railroading after a half-page of writing. Frustrating!
I attributed its problems to its newness and gave it another shot the next day. I noticed that the flow was a little bit better (which makes sense, I guess, since it had been inked and was soaking), but after a while it began to swing to the other side of the pendulum. Rather than losing its flow, it randomly flowed more and gave me a much bolder line. Frustrating, again!
As far as the flex bit, straight out of the box I didn't notice much flexing or line variance with different pressures. Although the instructions mentioned taking a blade to the channel and fins to modify ink flow, and I've watched videos about grinding into the body of the nib behind the shoulder to improve flex, my only modification thus far has been to adjust the spacing of the nib and feed. By moving the feed a bit back and the nib a bit forward, I immediately saw improvement. I'll play with it a bit more and see what happens, and then post about what worked and what didn't. I figure I'll see what I can do with moving the nib and feed placements before taking a blade to the channel, and if that doesn't make me happy I'll widen the fin gaps, and if that still doesn't make me happy I'll grind into the nib, and..... Well, you can see how this is a pen that I love to hate.
I ordered a Noodler's Ahab Demonstrator on Amazon and received it a few days ago. This pen is going to be a problem. It's one of those things that, because I can't stand it, I'm obsessed with it. I hate it so much that I love it.
A few things first: it's made of vegetal resin with a no-frills steel flex nib and metal accents. Being a demonstrator, it's clear, allowing you to see how much ink you have left; however, the Ahab comes in many different colors. It comes with a pull piston-fill converter and instructions as to using an eyedropper to fill the barrel. It's made to be customized, and everything is fully removable for modification or cleaning. It's price point is low, comparatively- I bought mine for $22.22, on sale from $24, and I've seen them in the $19-$27 range. I got Noodler's Black Swan Australian Rose ink to go with it, and have only used this ink with this pen thus far.
Straight out of the box, I was disappointed in the Ahab. As soon as I pulled it from the box I smelled baby butt. The vegetal resin, or celluloid derivative, of its construction is smelly. It reminds me of fresh diapers and baby powder, but others have said it smells like vanilla or soap. Other reviews suggest covering it in baking soda, washing it a million times, or just waiting it out for the smell to dissipate. I'm going to stick with the latter, unless I'm driven crazy enough to try other measures. It has a distinct aroma that stays on your hand for a long time, even after thorough washing. Also, the clip on my Ahab (meant to be reminiscent of a whale, hence "Ahab" from Moby Dick) is slightly askew, which really bothers me. I've bent it back a bit, so it's slightly more straight, but such a slight didn't help my first impression of this pen.
Once I inked it, the Ahab wrote steadily for a good three minutes before losing its line. I had to dot it, and eventually depress the plunger a bit, before it would write again. If I capped it and left it sit for a half hour or more, it would completely lose its flow and need more dotting and plunging before it would write again. Further, I experienced slight railroading after a half-page of writing. Frustrating!
I attributed its problems to its newness and gave it another shot the next day. I noticed that the flow was a little bit better (which makes sense, I guess, since it had been inked and was soaking), but after a while it began to swing to the other side of the pendulum. Rather than losing its flow, it randomly flowed more and gave me a much bolder line. Frustrating, again!
As far as the flex bit, straight out of the box I didn't notice much flexing or line variance with different pressures. Although the instructions mentioned taking a blade to the channel and fins to modify ink flow, and I've watched videos about grinding into the body of the nib behind the shoulder to improve flex, my only modification thus far has been to adjust the spacing of the nib and feed. By moving the feed a bit back and the nib a bit forward, I immediately saw improvement. I'll play with it a bit more and see what happens, and then post about what worked and what didn't. I figure I'll see what I can do with moving the nib and feed placements before taking a blade to the channel, and if that doesn't make me happy I'll widen the fin gaps, and if that still doesn't make me happy I'll grind into the nib, and..... Well, you can see how this is a pen that I love to hate.
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