moleskine

A can of Pepsi Max sits in front of me and gives advice.

“I know what you want,” it whispers. Beads of cold sweat roll off  its rouge et noir exterior. “I know how you can get it. Just do what you’re thinking right now. Go for it.”

I take a sip. ” It’s not a very good plan, and I don’t have a backup.”

“You don’t need one.” Chuckles coldly.

I turn Plan A over in my mind. It is possible it could work, like any scheme using brute force.  ”Perhaps,” I say.

The Moleskine chimes in. “Wait,” it says in a rustle of paper. ” Have you thought about the consequences and possible scenarios?”

The Sheaffer Balance makes marks. Numbers, words. “Holes in the plan,” it agrees,  ”here and there, where the mission could fail.”

Another sip of Pepsi Max. “You’re right – Plan A lacks finesse. And Plan B does not exist.”

The drink rallies. “Unnecessary, I swear.”

Anxious looks from the Moleskine and the Sheaffer. “This is too important to trust to chance. Preparedness is key to achieving the desired outcome. Remember how it hurt when you smacked concrete after jumping from a plane without a parachute? You need an improved Plan A. And a Plan B. And C, and D.”

I think of what I want and how badly I want it. The prize is worth waiting for.

I drain the drink. “But…!” it squeaks. “Think instant gratifica…!” I crumple the can and toss it, open the Moley, take up the Sheaffer, and think.

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Wella - a friend from college who turned 27 some weeks ago (*wink*) - asked me to write an introduction to fountain pens as she is thinking of getting into them as well. While I don’t feel qualified to write a definitive and comprehensive beginner’s guide about this interesting and complex topic, I can at least share my personal experiences.

To begin with, as a writer and aesthete of sorts, I’ve always been fascinated by things that make marks on paper - all sorts of writing instruments, typewriters, brushes, seals and rubber stamps – and the things that make the marks – ink, paint, seal paste, and so on.

Over the years, I became more interested in vintage and antique things over modern things because of the historical  and aesthetic aspects. I find a fountain pen with its gleaming, pointed nib more visually appealing than a ballpoint pen, and found my interest concentrating on FPs.

Fountain Pens in the Philippines

However, in the Philippines, where I live, there isn’t much of a fountain pen culture. According to older folks who are now in their mid-50′s and older, usage of FPs was prevalent in schools until they were in high school, when ballpoints became cheaper and more readily available.

A 62-year old friend of mine told me of he and his elementary schoolmates stabbing the nibs of their Parkers and Sheaffers into their desks when they were bored. They eagerly embraced BP use later on as FPs, he said, “leaked, and my mom would get mad when I’d come home with ink stains all over my uniform.” (Apparently he never figured out that if he didn’t have the habit of stabbing his pen nibs into desks, perhaps his pens wouldn’t leak.)

FPs were also de riguer in some Philippine law schools and in some accountancy programs until perhaps fifteen years ago, though there are still a few law schools today, like Far Eastern University, that recommend FPs to their students.

Still, in the mainstream, few Filipinos have even heard of FPs, much less used them. I first learned of FPs as a child through reading and movies; I don’t recall actually seeing an FP being used by anyone in my family.

In college, I finally got myself an inexpensive Parker Jotter from National Bookstore. All I did was go to the pen section, browse, and get something I could afford.

But it wasn’t until a couple of years back that my interest really grew, when the choices of affordable FP brands available in readily accessible malls and chain bookstore expanded. Fully Booked began carrying Inoxcrom pens; they were made of plastic with steel nibs, and had colorful and attractive graphics.

The pink pens are Inoxcrom from the Jordi Labanda line; the red FP is a Pilot 78G and one of the best starter pens ever, available online for about $12. All three have steel nibs.

Enter the power of the Internet. After blogging about the demise of one of my early Inoxcrom Jordi Labandas, I received an email from University of the Philippines professor Dr. Butch Dalisay inviting me to a gathering of FP collectors at his home, the first such meeting ever.

Upon meeting other collectors, I was exposed to more brands, kinds of nibs, modern and vintage pens, and a wide assortment of ink. The more I learned about FPs, the more I wanted to collect, and because of my newfound knowledge, I was able to discover what I really wanted, which are vintage pens, mainly 1930s Sheaffers and Parkers; pens with flexible nibs, whether vintage or modern; and Japanese pens.

Vintage Sheaffer Balances. All are from the 1930s except the red Tuckaway in the center. I love ’30s pens for their Art Deco design, flexible and responsive nibs, and lovely celluloid barrels.

Fountain Pen Facts

You need to know that:

1. FPs differ from BPs in that they have nibs. The nibs come in a wide variety of types. Referring to the width of the line they lay down, there are the extra-fine (EF or XF), fine (F), medium (M), and broad (B) nibs. Some brands such as Pelikan carry double-broad and triple-broad nibs. The nibs of Japanese brands such as Pilot, Sailor, and Platinum tend to be ”one size smaller” – their M is a Western F, their XF a Western XXF, and so on.

Nibs come in gold, steel, and other metal alloys and are generally pointed in shape and have a ball of iridium on the tip for strength. But there are other shapes. Stubs are nibs with the iridium gone because the shape of the tip is flat across. Italics are pretty much the same but with sharper edges; they are used mainly for calligraphy. Obliques are cut at an angle.

Nibs may also differ as to whether they are flexible, semi-flexible, or firm. Modern nibs are usually very firm – “nails”, in collector parlance – since users most likely will have grown up as members of the BP generation. Some modern nibs are flexible – pens from Nakaya and Danitrio, and Pilot’s Falcon nib come to mind.

Semi-flex nibs give a bit of line variation – examples are the Pelikan M1000 and the Sailor Professional Gear -  but the best results in that regard may be had from true flex nibs. Many vintage pens, especially those from the ’40s and earlier, have flexible nibs because they were often made of 14K gold, and gold nibs tend to be more flexible than steel. In addition, antique pens were designed to flex to accommodate use of the Spencerian and Copperplate styles of handwriting.

Two of my favorite flexy pens – a Moore vest pen, and a Sheaffer black hard rubber ringtop, meant to be worn by ladies around their neck on a chain. Notice the line variation with the Sheaffer.

2. FPs, unlike BPs, are refillable with ink from a bottle. For green advocates, they are a better choice as they are not disposable. Modern fill systems use a cartridge - a plastic tube pre-filled with ink is snapped inside the pen – or converter - also a plastic tube but with a twister-thingy that allows you to draw ink up through the nib. A converter is better since it is re-used over and over, but a cartridge can also be refilled using a syringe. Vintage pens have a variety of filling systems ranging from lever-fill, button-fill, etc. Stick to c/c (cartridge-converter) pens at the start for less mess.

Collecting Fountain Pens

If you would like to start a collection of fountain pens, you might want to:

1. Ask friends or family for their old fountain pens. Chances are there are pens gathering dust in some drawer or box somewhere, and your relatives and friends will only be too glad to pass them on to you.

2. Check out the fountain pens for sale at office supply stores. In the Philippines, try:

a) National Bookstore for the Parker Jotter, Vector, and other models that might catch your fancy. They also carry Aurora, Waterman, Inoxcrom, Cross, and Rotring. Inoxcrom make the most affordable kinds – plastic cartridge-fill pens suitable for children, or for anyone looking for a sturdy daily road warrior.

b) Luis Pen Store is the only fountain pen store in the country. Established in the late 1940s, it’s still near its original location on Escolta Avenue, Manila, near Sta. Cruz Church. There you’ll find NOS Parkers, Sheaffers, and Pilots from the ’70s, as well as newer models of those brands and Cross and Mont Blanc. They also do FP repair, do engraving, and sell Parker Quink ink.

c) Office Warehouse has cheap and fun Schneiders – the Zippi and other models.

d) Fully Booked carries Inoxcrom.

e) Office supplies stores in Recto, near the university belt, carry NOS (new old stock) Pilot Japanese pens from the ’70s – terrific buys for their reliability and beauty, and the antique factor as well. You might also find Lamy pens.

Try checking fountain pen sellers online for modern pens, and eBay for vintage pens.

Three 1940s Parker Vacumatics with their pretty striped celluloid barrels; a Parker 51, iconic for its hooded nib; a Parker 45; a (restored) Parker 75 Milleraies, the pen that started my collection; a Parkette; a red Esterbrook; and a gold Wahl set of refillable pencil and fountain pen.

3. Research online about fountain pens and join collectors’ forums. Wiki has this informative article on fountain pens. Check out Fountain Pen Network and join the Fountain Pen Network Philippines Yahoo! groups. For more information and pictures, visit Leigh Reyes’ blog, My Life as a Verb; Thomas Overfield’s Bleubug; and Dr. Butch Dalisay’s Pinoy Penman.

Getting Started

Getting started is easy. Just go to your favorite pen place and get the pen that you like best that you can afford.

I’d suggest you start with something inexpensive  – say, a cartridge-fill Parker Jotter or Vector with a steel nib – to get used to the nib and the way it lays ink on paper, which is different from the way you’d use a BP. FPs need very little pressure to lay a dark line (this is assuming you are using dark ink), whereas for BPs, you have to press hard to achieve  a darker line, making FPs terrific for writing for extended periods. In addition, FPs don’t score the back and succeeding pages of your notebook, unlike BPs.

You also need to find out what width of nib you prefer – F, M, or B? Get an inexpensive one of each kind, or try them out in the store first before buying. Testing an FP is done by “dipping” – dip the nib for a few seconds in ink, and doodle on paper.

A Lady Sheaffer from the ’70s; various Pilots, including a Pilot E Script pen, a Pilot 77 from Luis Store in Escolta, a teal Pilot from Recto, and a red Pilot 78G from Shanghai; an orange Sailor Professional Gear Colors; and Japanese long-shorts from the ’70s – a Sailor, a Pilot, and a Platinum.

Don’t forget to buy bottled ink! Available in Manila are Parker Quink, Waterman, and Aurora inks (at National Bookstore). Online, look for J. Herbin, Private Reserve, Noodler’s, Diamine, Caran d’Ache, and Pilot, especially their Iroshizuku line.

And as you become more enamoured of using FPs, you’ll also need to look for “fountain-pen friendly paper”. (Fully Booked has a nice assortment of Moleskine, Paper Blanks, Grand Luxe, and Miquelrius. For local brands, Corona and Cattleya are great – smooth paper, won’t snag your nib, no ink feathering.) Happy hunting!

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Vintage fountain pens are highly-prized by many collectors not just for their unusual materials and designs. For those connoisseurs who actually use these pens, not merely keep them tucked away in protective cases, the nibs are the biggest draw of these oldies but goodies.

Older nibs, those manufactured up to the 1930s with higher gold content, tend to be more flexible than steel nibs. They are also resistant to the corrosion that may be a side effect of some types of inks.

These pens hail from the 1920s. One is a gold-filled Wahl, the other a celluloid Moore vest pen.

The Wahl has a Greek-key design. It is slim and perfect for ladies’ smaller hands. The notebook is a Ruled Pocket Moleskine.

Its 14k gold nib looks like a stub with most of the iridium worn off. A heart-shaped breather hole in the nib helps with the exchange of air for ink the pen’s reservoir. It’s a lever-fill.

A beautiful monogram on the cap tassie.

Moore is a lesser-known brand, yet the quality of this particular pen is admirable.

Celluloid body, lever-fill, 14k gold nib.

The name engraved on the barrel may be that of the first owner.

The Moore also has a heart-shaped breather hole.

No matter how agile and lithe David Beckham is, he can’t bend it like the nibs of these vintage pens can.

Writing samples – top, the Wahl in Private Reserve Shell Pink; center, the Moore in a plum color, a mixture of Shell Pink and Tropical Blue. The Moore’s nib gives more line variation.

Flexibility was an important characteristic for early 20th century pens because they suited the handwriting styles of the period – Copperplate and Spencerian.

Having used flexible pens, modern pens feel stiff and rigid. “Like a nail”, is how some collectors describe them. Many FP users have both a vintage flexible and a stiff modern writer in their everyday pen case for different purposes.

Photos taken with a Nikon D60.

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Assignment: Turn out your handbag. Make an inventory of the items inside. Why do you carry them around? What is their significance or value in your life? Discuss.

Some of the things in my handbag:

• Black Moleskine ruled pocket notebook for jotting down random thoughts and quotes dropped by strangers, like the man of Indian heritage whom I overheard at the Rockwell Pancake House say, “They sprayed the restaurant with bullets…and it happened to be beside our favorite hangout”. This was just after the recent infamous Mumbai massacre.
• Vintage (‘70s) Sailor “21″ long-short fountain pen, inked with J. Herbin Cyclamen Rose. It is a cartridge fill, convenient and practical.
• Pink brocade wallet that holds US$1 bills collected from all the purses and handbags my mother has sent me through the years; she inserts them in the pockets as “lucky money” to attract more money. It works, in a way, but they attract Philippine pesos and not more US dollars. *Sigh*.
• Red FaceShop nail polish to touch up chips.
• Clinique sample size lipstick in “Blushing Nude”. It came in a box of freebies my sister Aileen sent from Dubai, and for which I thank her profusely, because in it there was also a bottle of eye makeup solvent which I needed for the velvet black Clinique mascara which also came in the box, along with samples of facial soap, Clarifying Lotion, Dramatically Different moisturizer, and a jar of Night Repairware that claims to minimize fine lines and crow’s-feet which I will use only when I’m old and wrinkly, which will be starting tonight.
• Two bars of Food for the Gods baked by my aunt, with plenty of dates and other dried fruit. Essentially “pocket fruitcake”.
• Kiehl’s Lip Balm #1 that my sister bought me the other day after I said I was looking for liquid lip balm in a tube because Chapstick wasn’t helping all that much anymore to moisturize my aging puckers, and, she said, so that I would have “at least one item of Kiehl’s” in my cosmetic bag. I also mentioned that I was looking for a car, maybe a compact with great mileage, power steering, and candy-apple red body paint, but she didn’t get me one that day although I don’t have one of those yet.
• One-gigabyte USB thumb drive with a swivel cap. Another freebie from my sister. It was a souvenir from the company she used to work for.
• A sample vial of Flower by Kenzo fragrance from my mom. She put it in one of the pockets of one of the handbags she sent for Christmas in a balikbayan box. You really have to look in all the pockets of stuff when you get things from my mom.
• A sachet of 3-in-1 coffee – Choco Fudge by Nestle. My favorite instant coffee with the powerful kick of robusta beans mixed with a hint – only a hint, mind you – of cocoa.
• A blue, gold, and glitter pearl handbag hook from one of my bosses, who bought it in Hong Kong. The enamel medallion is backed with rubber; you place that on the table surface at, say, a restaurant, allowing the hook to dangle down, from which you then hang your bag, obviating the need to carry your bag in your lap while you eat, which, from personal experience, is a good thing, because sometimes accidents happen like you spill your drink or drop a forkful of food in your lap, and you don’t want to get that gunk on your bag, but it’s okay if it falls in your lap because in theory there should be a napkin spread there.
• Cherry Chapstick. What can I say? I’m a loyalist. And it smells great. And it’s famous because it was mentioned in that song by Katy Perry, although as a bit of an old-fashioned person I don’t hold with the rest of the lyrics aside from the words “Cherry Chapstick”, “the”, “and”, “it” and “of”.

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See Jenny’s planner.

See, see.

It is red. It is Moleskine.

It is an eighteen-month Pocket Weekly Diary from July 2008 to December 2009.

Jenny writes on it with a fountain pen.

Look at the fountain pen.

Look, look.

It is brown. It is old.

It is a 1944 double-jewel Parker Vacumatic with a 14-karat gold stiff extra-fine nib lovingly restored by Butch Palma.

See the pen and the planner.

They are pretty.

Very, very pretty.

Maybe they will help Jenny be more organized and productive and less apt to procastinate and forget important tasks and meetings.

Maybe, maybe.

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Busy people who also happen to be disorganized often look for methods on how to best manage their time and efforts to achieve optimum results within the specified timeframe. Over years, many techniques have been developed and the choices are varied and confusing. How to tell which way will work best for you?

I’ve found this to be effective: read as much as you can about time-management methods, list down the tips that appeal to you, and through trial-and-error, create your own system that will work with your personal habits and way of thinking.

After going through quite a few systems and planners, I’ve finally developed a system that increased my productivity, wasted less time, and left nothing undone. It’s loosely based on David Allen’s “Getting Things Done” (GTD) action-management method insofar that I free my mind to actually work on tasks “by moving tasks out of (my) mind and recording them externally.”

I’ve tried using large, book-type planners but found them too heavy to lug around in my bag and too unwieldy to use in the field. So I trawled the ‘Net for ideas and came up with this system:

1. “Hipster PDA” - (bottom left) A sheaf of 3x 5 index cards held customarily by a binder clip or metal ring. I use a pink carabiner to make it easy to flip the cards. This is my “to-do” list. Color-coded cards organize the action tasks by context: blue, “@Work”, pink, “@Home”, white, Projects, because these are the categories that make sense for me.
2. Dashed notation for action items: – : action item undone; + : done; <-: waiting for another action;   -> : delegated; (-) : moved to another list; * : cancelled/abandoned; and the division sign for ‘on hold’. It is easy to use because you always start with just a dash.
3. Pocket Red Moleskine 18-month Weekly Diary: (bottom right) For listing appointments, meetings, etc. Its the perfect size for me – small enough to carry in handbag or tuck in pocket, I’m never without it.
4. Desk planner – (top) With two pages allotted for each day, it’s where I list all the little bits of information that come my way - phone numbers, notes of telephone conversations, sudden inspirations – rather than write them on scraps of paper that can get lost or misplaced. In the GTD system, it’s my “bucket” where I capture the data for later processing.

I also have an 8-1/2 x 11 size three-ring binder with tabbed divisions. Each division corresponds to one project – ex. “Short Story Collection”, “Racing History Book”. It’s where I write down notes, proposals, plans, mind-maps, and the like. I review my binder weekly, and list down action tasks pertaining to current projects in my Hipster PDA.

People get frustrated when choosing one time-management system and forcing themselves to work with it rather than make it work for them. Customizing a system yields better results and will help you on your way to professional and personal productivity.

(Yes, the pen on the Moley and all the pens in the pen-case are fountain pens.)

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Let me introduce you to three fountain pens that are cherished souvenirs from two beloved penfriends.

From advertising executive Leigh Reyes comes a Pilot E with a Script nib. It dates to the ’70s, and has a timeless design that is simple and appealing, channeling that minimalist Japanese aesthetic sensibility.

Its stiffish nib is perfect for my heavy hand raised on ballpoint pens; it’s sturdy enough so I can press hard and practice calligraphic swirls and flourishes without fearing that the nib will bend or break.

From novelist and University of the Philippines professor Dr. Butch Dalisay come a lovely Aurora Idea and an unusual Hero fountain pen from China.

Aurora is an Italian brand and the Idea model is a workhorse designed for practical, everyday use. Its medium nib lays a thick wet line, just the thing for signing checks, marriage contracts, and state treaties.

Hero is China’s most well-known brand of fountain pen, and every collector must have at least one. This particular model, a 309, is unusual with its tiny nib that creates lovely eyelash-thin lines, ideal for my Moleskine. The barrel material might be some sort of plastic laminate over brass; it has a heft that gives a feeling of solidity and permanence while still being comfortable enough to write with for long stretches.

Nibs of the Pilot E, Hero 309, and Aurora Idea

The pens gaze pensively at the Pasig River

Sir Butch gave me nine other pens that I haven’t featured here yet; you’ll meet them some other time.

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It was during the ’80s, I think, that children’s versions of familiar objects became popular among manufacturers. “My First (insert name of product)” filled the shelves of toy stores around the world – “My First Radio”, “My First Guitar”.

I was reminded of that when last Sunday, Ik prevailed upon her father to buy her her first Moleskine. Oyet glanced at the price tag and turned several shades paler, but good-naturedly took out the plastic for his daughter’s first grown-up indulgence.

Ik unwraps her Pocket Ruled Notebook and poses with her Lamy Safari fountain pen with a 1.1mm italic nib, in a limited edition color of blue barrel and red clip.

A Moleskine (pronounced as spelled) is a hardbound, Smythe-sewn, oilskin-covered notebook filled with creamy yellow paper over which your pen nib glides like glass.

Touted as similar to the kind of notebook used by Hemingway, Van Gogh, Picasso, and other artistic and literary greats, it has a massive fanbase among intellectuals, aesthetes, and geeks worldwide, thanks to the hyperactive marketing machinery of Modo e Modo, the Italian company that brought the moleskin notebook back from oblivion.

Ik, a fledgeling artist and writer, deserves her Moleskine and Lamy italic Safari. I can feel and share her delight in owning such a lavish repository of her work. Connected by this notebook and a stretch of imagination to writers and artists across time and space, she will fill her Moley with words and drawings that express her art, her heart.

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It was the first-ever, as far as we knew, meeting of fountain pen collectors in the Philippines – at least, of this batch of friends belonging to the online communities Fountain Pen Network and PhilMUG. For years, several of them had contact only by email or on online forums discussing their particular mania. On July 5, Saturday, in a peaceful home in UP Campus, they gathered with their pens and ink to meet and share.

Fountain pens are virtually unknown now in the Philippines – ask any person below the age of twenty and you’ll get a glazed stare – but before ballpoints came into being, in the 1940s to mid-1950s, FPs ruled.

I belong to this peculiar tribe for whom the process is as important as the end result. It is easier to write with a ballpoint, but nothing compares to the feel of a pointed steel or gold fountain pen nib sliding over the paper, laying down ink almost like a brush. The words seem painted on, elevating the mundane activity of scribbling notes into an art.

Older collectors remember using FPs in their youth, mostly Parkers and Sheaffers; for them, it’s often a matter of nostalgia and reliving the past. Younger enthusiasts are drawn to vintage artifacts redolent of a history they never experienced; for them, old is new and for that reason, desirable. Using FPs in this age of gel pens sets one apart. How many people do you know still use FPs everyday?

One of them is University of the Philippines professor Jose “Butch” Y. Dalisay Jr., PhD. Host of this penmeet, he is a multi-awarded writer of fiction, non-fiction, poetry, drama, and screenplays. He has won, at last count, 16 Palanca literary awards. Perhaps a hundred or more pens reside in his pen cases and “junk box” (a red felt-lined wooden chest).

“Welcome to the first Philippine Fountain Pen Collector’s meeting!” Seated: Beng Dalisay, Carlos Abad Santos. Standing: George, Robert, Butch Dalisay, Leigh Reyes, Eliza, Pep, Jay, Chito, Butch, and Iñigo.

Another enthusiast is Leigh Reyes, creative director of  a prominent advertising agency. Her collection is unrivaled, containing premier brands Nakaya, Oldwin, Visconti, and Omas, to mention just a few.

I had met Leigh several times before, to acquire ink and vintage pens from her stash. The last time I saw Butch was in 1985, when I was a student of his English 5 class at UP Diliman. (He was one of my three favorite professors – the others were Dr. Michael Tan, anthropologist and columnist; and the late Rene O. Villanueva, also a Palanca-award winning writer and literary icon.) I received my invitation to this gathering from Butch. It seems he had Googled “fountain pen Philippines” or something similar and was led to this blog.

It was my first time to meet the others. After the initial frost had thawed, they welcomed me with genuine warmth into their circle, pressing pens into my hand to try, passing bottles of ink for my inspection.

Pep says something to Caloy that makes him smile: Leigh examines a pen’s nib; others “test-drive” the pens lying around.

Beng Dalisay (Butch’s wife) is not an FP collector, but remembers using them as a young student. “We used Parkers and Sheaffers,” she recalls. An accomplished artist, she prefers watercolors as her medium. Beng also restores and maintains artworks in museums and private collections. “We will soon be working on the Botong Francisco mural in Manila City Hall,” she says. A collector too – of tins and bottles – she knows the fierce and often uncontrollable craving that can overcome a  true enthusiast, and nods indulgently as we debate stiff versus flexible nibs, bulletproof against water-based inks.

Leigh answers a question while Butch roots through his mahiwagang junk box.

There is a particular etiquette in this culture that we instinctively practice, or it could be a result of years of “good manners and right conduct” teaching about respect for another’s property. It is this – that pens are passed to another person almost reverently,as if they were religious objects. If the pen is heavy, like Jay’s silver and tan herringbone patterned Faber-Castell, two hands are used to present it to another. Infinite care is taken when removing the cap – it could be the kind that screws on, and fie on the one who tugs! Pens removed from a case are, after careful use, returned to their proper slot or passed back to the owner. They are not left lying around unless by the owner himself. Ink bottles, too, are painstakingly opened; ink has a tendency to pool in the cap, and no one wants to spill a difficult-to-obtain twenty-dollar bottle of French-made J. Herbin.

Iñigo watches Leigh write in her flowing calligraphy; Caloy surveys a feast of fountain pens.

At some point during the festivities, several of us pull out our Moleskines. Caloy asks Leigh to customize his with her elegant lettering. Elai and I clamor, “Mine too!” Leigh good-naturedly picks up a fountain pen loaded with light brown ink, and writes quickly, without hesitation. Our names, embellished with swirls and flourishes, float from the italic nib and lie like butterflies on the creamy yellow paper.

Leigh’s pens, notebook, and inks; Butch smiles as he uncovers more pens.

“Jenny.” I hear Butch’s voice and snap to attention. “Sir?” My response is reflexive; he will have my respect as my professor no matter how many years have elapsed since we were in a classroom. He hands me a pen. “For you, since you were my former student.” It is a black vintage Sheaffer Balance dating back to the 1940s, he says. I melt. My hands close around the pen and I stammer my thanks.

Butch does not realize, I think, how special the gift is, how his sudden impulse has profoundly stirred me. Not only because he is famous, and it will be a treasured souvenir from a literary lion; but because he was my teacher, the gift is significant as a reminder of a shared past and a mentoring that deeply influenced my writing.

One blue-book exercise he gave us was to describe a peso coin. “Be more specific and imaginative when you describe something! Look carefully at both sides and write down all you can discern.” His instructions forced me to use not just my eyes but also the vision of the mind to explore objects and concepts, employing uncommon words to provide the reader a fresh experience. “Resist cliches!” he said, so since then I have avoided them like the plague.

Part of Leigh’s carefully-selected collection includes fountain pens by Nakaya, Sailor, Platinum, Pelikan, Oldwin, Danitrio, Stipula, Visconti, Omas, and the ubiquitous Parker and Sheaffer. She also owns ink in a vast array of colors, with brands like Caran d’Ache, J. Herbin, Private Reserve, Noodler’s, and Diamine.

George talks about his other passion – collecting and restoring vintage typewriters. I lean forward to listen; anything that makes alphabet marks on paper is interesting. George speaks: “Royal, Blickensderfer, Underwood,” and Butch nods sagely.

I look around and see that everyone has ink marks – on their hands, forehead, temples. Leigh rubs my chin. “Ink?” I ask, and she smiles. Caloy has a streak of green on the right temple; George, on the forehead. Butch’s fingers are a riot of color, as are Jay’s and Iñigo’s. We are true FP fanatics, I think, the stains worn as an emblem of pride. No one tries very hard to remove the marks.

Front: Leigh, Butch, Jenny; Back: Iñigo, Jay, Eliza, George, Caloy.

One by one the penfriends depart. Chito is first to go. Butch from Baguio follows, saying, “I have a long drive. See you again soon.” “When is our next meeting?” George asks, almost plaintively. “Next month?” Butch says, “How about in six months, or when we have something new to show?”

I ride to Katipunan with Caloy. A well-traveled intellectual who is a PhD Economics candidate at UP, he offers to share shipping costs from PenGallery if I order. We have just met; but the ink in his veins calls to mine and thus we are no longer strangers.

We all look forward to the next meeting, the next sharing of custom-ground nibs and the latest colors of ink that are “not black!” as Leigh says. Anyone who is enamoured of the same is welcome to join. May the tribe increase!

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