“The seed is in the ground. Now we rest in hope While darkeness does its work.”
-Wendell Berry
I’ve recently diagnosed myself with a raging case of Februaryitis. My mood lately has been as blah as the weather. The urge to hibernate is strong. Winter brought us ice and snow this week, COVID got us after three years, and some friends and family are going through particularly challenging times, as is our country. In other seasons, sun and warmth and time outdoors burn off this dread and dreariness, but February in upstate New York drapes us in a gray weariness that’s hard to shake.
So what is one to do?
I’ve chosen to do what I know best—to write through the mood. Fueled with coffee, of course.
Get out of that cozy bed, pour a glass of homemade cold-brew, and simply write. About strange dreams where you’re riding a bicycle without brakes down a winding path. About the ominous noises the house made in the middle of the night when the ice on the roof cracked and shifted.
About all of the rushing around you’re doing lately.
About the unsettled weather.
Most importantly use pens and inks that lighten the mood, that lift your spirits, that make you smile. Ink your pens with colors that are the opposite of the season. For me that’s been a cheerful purple (Waterman Tender Purple), a bright red (Levenger Cardinal Red), and a high-sheening green (Birmingham Pens Emerald Fusion), as well as a fresh blue (my last cartridge of Private Reserve Lake Placid Blue). Create a colorful world on the page to make up for the dull scene outside your window.
This is my prescription for this mood. To show up every day. With coffee. And pens. And ink.
To simply write though this season and this mood, knowing that both will pass, and that there are small joys to be found in each day. Like the bright red cardinal at the feeder and a letter from a friend. And pens. And ink.
“Let everything happen to you Beauty and terror Just keep going No feeling is final.”
I’ve been meaning to write about this wacky little delight for some time now, as it’s been almost continuously inked since I purchased it in July 2022. This was a case of being in the right place at exactly the right time. While mindlessly scrolling through a social media platform one summer evening, I came upon a post by Ian Schon of Schon Design offering a small batch of “Shop Shuffle” Pocket Six pens—pocket pens assembled with mismatched parts at a significantly discounted price. As I quickly scrolled though the offerings, this particular pen called my name and I was lucky enough to beat everyone else to the punch.
Measuring just 3-1/2″ when capped, the pen extends to a very comfortable 5″ length when the cap is threaded onto the body. I already owned one “normal” Pocket Six so I knew that it fit my hand well. The draw with this one is the “Shop Shuffle”aspect—the combination of swirled colors and patterns that clash just enough to be interesting but not jarring. The cap’s splashes of turquoise against the orange background represent two of my favorite colors in both ink and pens.
The body features swirls of rusty orange—reminiscent of Diamine’s Blood Orange, a favorite ink of mine.
The fiery orange grip section is my favorite part of the pen. The machined ridges add visual interest as well as superb “traction” for long journaling and letter writing sessions. I ordered my pen with a broad (#6) nib and it’s a gem—smooth, pleasantly juicy, and with no hard starts or hesitation (unlike my brain).
As a pocket pen, the Pocket Six only accepts short international cartridges which is fine with me as I own piles of them. I’ve been using up some OLD Private Reserve Lake Placid Blue cartridges of late, and noticed a peculiar thing—that the ink inside the unused cartridges seems to have evaporated over time. I checked another pack of the same vintage (Private Reserve Copper Burst) and found the same thing. Strange!
At least I’m blowing through cartridges faster than normal because the ink level is so low. (I thought I’d see how many cartridges I can go through in a year, but counting these seems like cheating.)
It’s taken me too long to write about how much I enjoy this quirky little pen made of mismatched, but complementary, parts. Now I have. Better late than never.
No, I’m not backing out of the challenge I set for myself, but a couple of questions came up after I published last week’s post so here’s a bit of follow-up to address those.
Question #1: Does this mean you won’t be going to any pen shows?
It does not. That’s the ONE out I’ve given myself which I didn’t note in my original post. I may consider going to a pen show this year, and if I do, I’ll allow myself a pen (or two). But it needs to be unique in some way—not just another iteration of something that I already own. And you know what? It’s also possible that I’ll go to a pen show and NOT buy a pen. So much about a pen show is the people. Old friends. New friends. Steeping in that stew of passionate pen people. There’s really nothing like it. Purchases aren’t required to have a great time, though, of course the temptation is hard to resist when you’re surrounded by so many pretty things. The key is discernment. What do I really want? Maybe something. Maybe nothing.
Highlights from the 2018 Atlanta Pen Show:
Franklin-ChristophBrad Dowdy & Myle Hurley
Shea and Jonathon BrooksLisa and Brian Anderson
Myself and my pen pal, Beth. A little reunion for both of us!
Question #2: What about stationery gifts?
I did think that maybe I gave the wrong impression—that gifts of stationery aren’t welcome because I have so much. So when my cousin asked this question, I knew I wanted to address it here.
Rest assured, I’m thrilled with stationery gifts and never squirrel these away for later use. They’re always enjoyed and put into action as quickly as I can unwrap them because doing so reminds me of the people who gave them to me. Again, it’s about having someone “get you,” which is such a special feeling. So it’s not just a gift of pencils. It’s a gift of pencils + years of friendship. It’s not just a gift of ink. It’s a gift of ink from someone who knows you well enough to pick out just the right color. These gifts mean so much more to me than the pencils and ink that I buy for myself. They are used, and used with love.
Some recent Christmas and birthday gifts!All currently in use:
“PEACE Is POWER” pencils. In love!An adorable 3D-printed ink vial holder and Detroit Pen Show inkThe book has the colors. You draw the lines!My cousin clearly gets me. From my west coast friend who knows I enjoy a good list!A cat on a notepad with a magnetic clasp. Three of my favorite things in one!
In summary, people are > pens.
That said, I’m resisting (but just barely) the newly-released TWSBI ECO-T in Saffron. GREAT color! Very reasonably priced! But a vow is a vow.
Actual lyrics: “It’s not having what you want—It’s wanting what you’ve got.“
In December 2022, a penpal’s letter talked a lot about mentally gearing up for her self-imposed 2023 “no new pens” challenge. D’s sentiments were familiar. She has enough. She should simply enjoy what she already owns. But there was an edge of anxiety as well, a feeling I could also relate to. Can I really do this? Can I go cold turkey? As I read her letter, despite the fact that I’ve tried this before and failed miserably, I felt a spark of excitement ignite—the desire to take on this challenge with her—partly so that I’d have an accountability partner, but also because such a challenge is sorely needed.
I have plenty of stationery—notebooks, pens, pencils, ink, postcards, notecards, and even postage stamps. That’s a fact. There is truly no shortage of fun things to use. But, man, the temptation for more is hard to resist. Irrational thoughts abound. “Maybe THIS pen will take away my anxiety/boredom/frustration.” (Or maybe that’s just me.) The thrill of the hunt and anticipation of that new shiny thing is addictive. And admittedly fun. But the cycle never ends—unless you break it.
As long-time readers may recall, I’ve made this “no new pens” pledge before, but have never succeeded in sustaining it for more than a few weeks. Maybe it’s because I’m tiptoeing up to retirement—where I’ll have to be more careful about spending— that this challenge feels more acutely needed. Maybe it’s because I’ve recently started attending Death Café meetings (much more fun than they sound—and there’s cake!) that I’m thinking about what’s truly important in life—what I want to share versus what I want to acquire. Maybe it’s because I’ve simply realized, yet again, that one can only own so much “stuff.” For whatever reason, I’m feeling really energized and enthusiastic as I enter Month #2 of the “No New Stationery” challenge.
Have there been moments of weakness? Oh, hell yes. In the last month there have been almost daily tugs at my stationery-loving heartstrings. The Ti2 Designs laser-etched Techliners. <swoon>. The USPS + Fieldnotes collaborations. (I love trains and train stations so that soon-to-be released edition is killing me.) The tea-themed Retro 51 via Goldspot Pens is great looking. Ian Schon’s Monoc nib. They’re all excruciatingly tempting. But I’m holding strong. Close the webpage. Delete the email. Move on.
There are a couple of tactics that are helping when the urge to buy wells up. I happened upon one in a 5-Year Q&A journal that a friend gave me for Christmas. A recent question asked, “What would you take if you had to leave tonight?” Talk about making you think about what’s truly important! After the pets, I’d grab some pens—especially this one—as well as my journals and letters from friends (so many memories!)—but as I looked around from my desk, not much else felt critical. So now I frame potential purchases that way—is it something that I’d love enough to rescue in the event of an emergency?
A second tactic arrived in my inbox this week, from another friend looking to curb a shopping habit. She sent along a link to Simplify Magazine‘s recent article called “No More Impulse Buying—The Magic of Careful Curation.” In the article, the author wrote: “Instead of writing a list of the things you need, write a list of “Things I do not need.” When I did this, my list included baking equipment, snazzy notebooks, gym gadgets, and electronics. Write your own detailed list for every room in your house.” She goes on to say that you can refer to the list in a moment of weakness as a concrete reminder of what you already own, what’s already there to enjoy. “…use it as a magic shield against the temptations of impulse spending.” And so I have composed my list:
Pens, pens, pens, ink, ink, ink, pocket notebooks, journals, pencils, colored pencils, writing paper, notecards, and postcards. I love what I have, but I don’t need to buy more. I’m all set. Unless I live to be 150.
“I like opening a letter and thinking myself loved.” – Virginia Woolf
The thrills, instead, will come from using what I have. Filling up journals. Sharpening and using pencils. Writing and sending cards and letters. Receiving cards and letters and notes from friends in return. (I savor reading letters. Like, I settle in and make sure I can give the letter my undivided attention. No dogs barking, no husbands talking, no time constraints. Sometimes I make a cup of tea first. It’s kind of a thing.)
Just the other day I finished a bottle of ink—MY FIRST ONE EVER—which felt like an event worthy of fireworks. And confetti. And celebratory cake. Okay—it was only a 30 mL bottle, but still. Pre-2023 Mary would’ve immediately ordered up another bottle of Electron, but honestly, the thought didn’t even cross my mind. There is, it turns out, joy in using things up—a surprising buzz of satisfaction. Maybe I’ve got this?!
Only eleven more months to go. I’ll keep you posted.
From the Pen Cup 