Ever since high school, I’ve been a fan of fountain pens. I like their quality of line, expressive nature and the importance they impart into the words they write. Taking notes in real ink made me pay more attention to their content and celebrate the human hand that keyboards will never replace (especially the touch screen one on this phone I’m using now).
Before I knit, pen shops were a destination I’d seek out when traveling. Fountain pens are what I’d look for at flea markets, too. It’s only natural that a paper fetish followed from there. (I’d love to show you my pad and stationery collection one day.) Oddly enough, I never got into inks. I was content to use the bottles from Farhney’s (my dad’s favorite mail-order pen pusher) or one of the other two bottles I had (pure black Parker Quink and some electric royal blue from Krone).
Life goes on and I amass a little pen stash of pens (only ten or so). I use them for work, but sadly never fully develop the journaling or letter-writing habit I wish I had. I’ve had one flea market find boxed up for repair for years, but never gotten around to it. Heck, there are a few pens that have bever even been used!
So as part of my creating order in 2010, I dusted off my pens (like this blog) and decided to clean them out and put some of the newest ones into rotation. It makes me so happy to ride the glide of a nib across some smooth, heavy paper. like a good pen owner, the ones that haven’t been in use were already cleaned and perfectly content chilling in the cabinet.
Lo and behold, in the same cabinet, I found two bottles of French ink I received in the mail last spring. Back in February, I agreed to review some J. Herbin fountain pen inks. I thought I’d receive one bottle, but two arrived, along with a mini Rhodia notepad. (They import thissuper-duper paper as well as inks and planners.) I had played with the Orange Indien when I first received it. How could I pass up an orange? It’s is confident and strong. Unfortunately, the Parker 51 I’m using with it is very generous (down-“write” slutty!) and leaves a fat wet line. But the ink remains as a very handsome and unique stroke.
The Lierre Sauvage is vibrant and perky green. Bright and alive, yet maintaining the dignity of a deeper forest green. I’m going to enjoy playing with this. I filled a RÃ©cife pen purchased during our 2007 trip to Paris that has languished parched and empty for these past two or so years. It’s about time this beauty sprouted words and thoughts onto paper, and the new leaf colored ink is well-suited for shoots and tendrils awaiting to unfurl from my hand.
With freshly cleaned pens from work stored away, a filled blue-black and a bright blue trusted sidekicks in my bag, and these new orange and green friends, I’ve got quite a bit of writing to do. I hand write my designs in their idea origins and as I knit them. I’m counting on these new inks to help realize the many new designs 2010 holds.