the dance of the ink riddled fingers

importance of ink

Posted in thought spills by enisea on 16/08/2011

Having just inspected the house for a fine pen, I resorted to asking the sister, who was probably the only other person who was inclined to share in the same taste of pens.  It seems I have now become a bit of an ink snob.  The nature of the pen and how it writes governs how much I write, how well I write and how good I feel writing.  The pen raCh mailed me was perfect – until the ink ran out, which bled my heart and had me use it painstakingly until the strokes were a coarse cough of intermittent black ink.  Next, were the pens from Malaysia which we used to have in abundance and suddenly had none of – a generous ink from a fine tip.  I can’t find the purple fine liner I “borrowed” from Kat’s collection of “borrowed work fine liners” back in Sydney.  Alas, today, I could find none to satisfy my indulgent ink addictions – so asked the sister if she had any good ones – which she surrendered to me on condition I return it after (good pens are not a shared commodity here – they are possessed rather territorially especially when sparse).  Today’s pen is unimpressively ordinary looking for a fine ball-point navy; it does not, however, act like the average ball point, the ink in this one, not rationed in thick soft fuzz, but precise and easily given – it doesn’t require the weight of the user, merely the slight of the wrist.  I will savour tonight’s writings!

I suppose I’m not too far gone to call myself an ink snob, but I am a little fussy.  Depends how itchy my hand is to write and the extent to which I am willing to tolerate a less pretty scribble.  My hand writing is largely effected by the nature of the pen – strange, hey? Also, I much prefer lids to clickiticlick pens.   I much prefer a pen open or close when used or unused… don’t tempt my restlessness – I don’t need to unconsciously irritate those around me.  Give me ink and give it generously!


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