Sunday, October 14, 2012
still-sound 115. Fountain pen
A few weeks ago I met a cool perfumer from Portland named Josh Meyer. He has an interesting brand called Imaginary Authors and he stopped into the perfume shop while in Los Angeles. It turns out we geek out over similar things: vinyl records, record players, whiskey, typewriters, fountain pens and all the other things market researchers expect artsy designy guys in their 30s to like.* I bet Josh is interested in old cameras too. I am, of course.
Josh noticed the disposable Pilot fountain pen I was using and then pulled out a white object from a German penmaker called Kaweco. I inspected it, doodled for a bit, admired the golden nib and decided I wanted one immediately. He told me the name of a website that carries this and other beautiful writing instruments but I failed to write it down (despite the abundance of pens) and quickly forgot.
A few days ago I spotted a black Kaweco fountain pen at the fancy stationary store across the street from the perfume shop. It's the 'sport model' like Josh's. I like the German idea of 'sport'. Like Ritter Sport, my favorite candy bar. 'Sport' includes things like portable fountain pens and chocolate. I picked up a box of ink cartridges at the same time as the pen, anticipating the moment I go dry.
I've been slowly reorganizing and cleaning my apartment. I haven't lived alone in many years and have decided to let all of my anally-retentive tendencies flourish. I threw away all of the scraps of paper and torn envelopes by the computer, on which I would scribble any bits of information I'd most likely require later. I replaced the messy set-up with a neat, brown notebook from Germany. It sits, fully prepared for any notes I might write down with the Kaweco. So far it contains the details of two art events that friends have invited me to, both on the same night at the same time but in different locations. And on the second page of the book, driving directions to LAX airport.
*And the odd 40 year old