Mon Bon Voyage

Pen & Cap Stand by Ragnar

One hallmark of a great parent is his or her willingness to be supportive of the many roads down which a child, of any age, wishes to venture.

Throughout my nearly forty-six years and down more paths than I care to admit, I have been blessed with the world’s most encouraging father: Ragnar

Case in point: Until January 2009, I had kept my fondness of fountain pens firmly under control. All of that changed when I found the Fountain Pen Network and realized that A) The world is chock full of other fountain pen fans, and B) They were buyin’ up all the pens!

I jumped into the fountain pen arena with great and long overdue abandon. On January 7, 2009, I owned three pens that had taken over twenty years to “amass”. Today, less than two months later, I own at least twenty-four – not including the several that I’m waiting for in the mail. And at every turn of this wonderful new fountain pen trail, who has been consistently supportive and understanding? Me Father.

As far as I know, Me Father has little true interest in fountain pens or any of the paraphernalia that surround the subject. Yet he’ll listen to me ramble for hours about any pen related subject that happens to blip across the radar screen of my attention. But beyond listening, he’ll pay attention and actually participate in the conversations!

At one point I mentioned that there were two camps within the fountain pen world – those who post and those who don’t. I admitted to being firmly in the no-post camp and voiced my desire for a place to put a cap while writing.

Well, Me Father heard that as a call to action. A few prototypes and many a labored hour later, he excitedly sped to my house. I know he was speeding because I happened to be outside when he turned the corner, wheels a’screeching. He simply couldn’t wait to deliver the Pen & Cap Stand that you see pictured in this post.

With a base of polished petrified wood (Brazilian fir) and some well placed, highly lacquered driftwood (one of which he hand carved to create the pen bed), it’s a gorgeous and extremely useful work of art. It has a prominent home on my desk and I use it on a daily basis. It is beautiful to look at, holds my in-use pen and cap, and has a unique ability to lift my spirits just because it was made by Me Father.

Thanks Dad!

Fleur du Crayon

I was rummaging through some old boxes yesterday in search of the many writing journals I have squirreled away, unused, over the years. I found a couple, but I also found a surprise.

Tucked neatly into a corner was a box containing pencils, sketch pads, and “teach yourself to draw” books of various flavors. I often wish that I could draw, but I’m quick to admit that I can’t. Or can I?

I thumbed through the sketch book and found, among the many practice exercises that I was obviously following from a book, the two drawings that you see in this post. They’re not show-stoppers. They won’t win prizes. But what they said to me was pointed: “Stop telling yourself that you can’t draw!”

I realized that what I’ve really been saying is that I haven’t taken the time necessary to study and practice my drawing skills. Drawing doesn’t come easily to me. It’s work, and the end results are not always worth the effort. But the truth is I can draw. At least a little. The fact that my skills have not improved is solely due to laziness on my part and the “you can’t draw” mantra that I’ve been playing in my head.

Dessin de Paysage

Do you have a similar discouraging mantra of any kind? Something saying that you “can’t” do x or “can’t” do y? If so, might I suggest that you reevaluate? We really can do anything into which we’re willing to put effort. I’ll never again say that I can’t draw. And I’ll be on the lookout for similar thought processes so that I can set a new course wherever necessary.

Fair Winds!

The Watched Pot never boils and the Anticipated Mail Delivery never arrives. They apparently went to school together.

I’m anxiously awaiting two pens. One is an Esterbrook #32 dip pen and the other is my Pelikan M200 that has spent a week or two at the Dannzeman Fountain Pen Finishing School where it has been coerced (ground) into writing like a gentleman.

Water boils faster when subjected to microwaves. I wonder if that could improve the speed of my mail carrier…

Priority Mail? Oxymoron.