What's up at Ravens March.

Vintage pens-Handmade books-Silly statements

Brown Study Abolished

Posted by Dirck on 24 May, 2012

I do not, as a general rule, suggest seeking out illness.  However, when acute illness comes, as it does now and again to all of us, it can be useful from the standpoint of a stoic philosopher (which I am almost as thoroughly as I am a Buddhist, which is to say, not quite up to standard).  The trick to being successfully sick is to revel in the contrast of feeling better afterwards. 

I am, I must say, revelling.  But not so as to upset the neighbours to cause my co-workers to stare.  My step is high, my head is clear, innards without grumble, and there’s a private little song in my metaphoric heart.  As an outward expression of this, there is, to the surprise of none, a choice of pen.

The pen is not today’s nor yesterdays, as elegant or whimsical as they respectively are.  The pen is a premature replacement on my standard use desk pen.  In addition to my own unwilling purgation, I used the long Victoria Day weekend to engage in a willful purging of the desk pens.  The Esterbrook has been sitting full of its red ink for rather more than six months, and I thought that something in the line of maintenance was called for.  The brown Sheaffer TD, while not so long on the desk, was through the ultra-fineness of its point given to drying out while under use and thus probably had enough residue in it to call for a flushing.

When the prospect of being able to return to The Regular Job arose, I considered the logistics of returning desk pens to work.  They don’t like travelling, after all; they’re mean to be emplacements rather than mobile units.  Into this consideration of the Sheaffer and its vast pediment (of which I shall have to take a picture, now) crept the notion of, “Well, it’s come home anyway, why not just do the rotation and save an extra trip?”  Thus, I have a different desk pen once more, and one which lends itself to jollity.  This one:

How can I fail to smile, with this in front of me?

That’s right, it’s the pen shaped like a rocket!  It’s not just the mere appearance of the pen that enhances my revelry, but also the way it writes.  It has a slightly flexible point, so I go from the extremely limited expression of the firm accountancy point of the Sheaffer to something that is slightly madcap.  Not absolutely berserk, mind you, but something like wearing rainbow braces under the vest.

The brown pen had little to do with the brown mood (or, alas, the brown flux), but in removing it I have helped to undo the brown study I was briefly in.  Perhaps this supports yoga as well, in connecting contentment with flexibility.

Today’s delightful pen: Waterman Préface (page almost done… enough for public observation, anyway; check in tomorrow)
Today’s amiable ink: Diamine Royal Blue


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