I have two fountain pens in Berkeley. One of them takes Parker ink cartridges; the other takes Waterman cartridges, or uses an adaptor to take ink from a bottle. It is a corrolary to Murphy's law that if I can't find one of the pens, I will be out of ink for the other. This evening, Murphy did not strike. I found Waterman cartridges, and had the appropriate pen close at hand. I had no problem taking out the old cartridge, putting the new one in, or reassembling the pen.
I should have been worried. Murphy always gets his due.
Half an hour later, I had an envelope with holes scratched into it, ink stains along my index fingers, a bottle cap full of inky water, and a renewed appreciation of water-soluble inks. I haven't left so many finger prints on a paper since the last time I spilled coffee on my hand while juggling a clipboard.
Just as my pens sometimes run dry, so do my
creative juices. At least, so went my
thought as I cleaned up and tried to figure out what I wanted to write with my newly-charged
pen. Perhaps pouring a little water in my ear would help? Right -- and if the eyes are
windows to the soul, then the virtuous should buy stock in eyeball squeegies?
- Currently drinking: Black tea flavored with osymanthus flowers and water-soluble ink