photo essay

Once upon a time, in a country far far away from where it was made, a blue Pelikan M205 Traditional Series demonstrator came to roost on a Yeah! notebook.

The blue Peli’s fine steel nib has a bit of flex that makes it a joy to write with, yielding good line variation because of its springiness.

It was joined later by a limited edition Pelikan M205 in Gelb (yellow) from Germany.

Its nib is even bouncier than its blue fellow’s.

The clips of both pens are pelican beaks with eyes, the better to see what they are writing.

The ink window mesmerizes; one can gaze at that ink bubble and derive amusement from watching the ink flow here and there as you tilt the barrel.

An ink window is handy for seeing how much ink you have left. You’ll never run dry in the middle of a sentence anymore.

The Yeah! notebook is inexpensive but well-made.

Its paper is smooth and takes fountain pen ink well with little show-through and no feathering.

Interesting pens, notebooks, and inks for doodling make me happy. What are the little things that bring you happiness?

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This is what it looks like on the train on a rainy day.

Fat drops of water pelt the windshield glass;

through the blur, people are color in motion.

The train doors whoosh open and shut

as the people of color hop on and off,

on their way to home, work, or secret destinations.

Some will find money or lust or murder  when they arrive;

others will be lucky and find love.

Those who only have lonely gray thoughts peer out the window

and wonder when the rain will stop to let sunshine in.

Below the train are streets filled with cars traversing

the city roads that wind, slick with moisture,

stretching time and the trip to wherever.

Yet the journey each one makes in their mind

is longer, more torturous in its windings,

more cunning in its twists and turns.

Far more devious are the journeys of the heart

and the color people cram the train cars hanging on to life

even as their hearts break and beg for another day, another hour

with the beloved.

Still the rain comes down relentless

washing away the doubt the sin the pain

until all that remains is the blur of love lost and gained

and beating hearts looking for the way home.

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School time rolled around again, and it was time for the lazy writer to get out of her comfy swivel chair-that-is-used-only-for writing, and go to school to enroll. The happy feet were thrilled at the chance to go for a walk, more so when the lazy writer slipped them into the wooden Happy Feet sandals that went clip-clop whenever they took a step.

The school was a university in a huge campus filled with green trees and plants. The lazy writer loved trees, and the happy feet loved walking along the paved paths. First they walked past the building at the top of the main drive. In front of the building was a famous statue called the Oblation.

The Oblation was the statue of a young man who stood with his arms outstretched and his face lifted to the sky. The happy feet felt sorry for him. Not only was he naked, exposed to wind, rain, and sun,  his feet were rooted to his pedestal and he could not walk anywhere. Clip-clop, went the happy feet past the steadfast-at-his-post Oblation.

The happy feet next walked past a stand of banners in front of the lazy writer’s college.

It was  a sunny day. The happy feet were warm and toasty in the sunshine.

The happy feet had a long, long way to go to the next college, but they didn’t mind taking one step after another on the paving stones that were the colors of the lazy writer’s school. Clip-clop, went the happy feet along the maroon-and-green path.

The next college was a long way off, so very long! that the happy feet soon felt tired. The lazy writer sat on a bench on the path and rested a bit. The grass in the garden was very green and very cool. The happy feet’s toes wriggled and jiggled in the cool green grass.

At the next college, the happy feet stood in line with other feet so the lazy writer could sign up for a writing class.

All that walking and standing in line made the lazy writer thirsty. So she went outside where people sold drinks from huge plastic coolers filled with cold cold ice. The lazy writer bought a bottle of cold cold water and drank it down. The coolness went way down to the happy feet’s toes! After the drink, off they went again, this time to pay the school fees. Clip-clop, went the happy feet past the ice-cooled-drinks-containers.

It was a long long way off to the university’s bank. When the happy feet felt tired again, the lazy writer sat and rested. This time they felt the cool cool stone and moss on steps that led down to a grassy dell. Come and play, the trees and grass said to the happy feet. But the lazy writer had many things to do. Maybe next time, said the happy feet. Up they got, and clip-clop they went, past the cool green gardens.

It had been a long warm day and the happy feet were tired of walking around campus. Oh, so tired! The lazy writer decided to take a tricycle to work and let the happy feet rest a bit. The happy feet loved the ride. Vroom, went the motorbike. The happy feet felt the vibrations that tickled and teased.

The lazy writer was glad to get things done. She was all set for the next semester and looked forward to learning new things. The happy feet had fun walking around school. And the toes wiggled and jiggled and wriggled for joy.

~ The End ~

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A couple of weeks ago our class on creative non-fiction writing discussed essays on New York City. Our professor, Dr Cristina Hidalgo, told us that many writers spoke of NYC as “the center of the world”. “I’d say UP Diliman is the center of the world!” she said with a laugh.

Which got me to thinking – she was right. Wherever you are is the center of the world for you.

When class was over, I decided to walk around campus a bit.

Beside the Faculty Center is the University of the Philippines Vargas Museum. Right next to its entrance is this fantastic nommery – The Museum Cafe by Cafe Iana (which is at the College of Music). Their butter-rich silvanas melt in the mouth, I promise you.

I acquired my pre-loved Kindle 2 only a couple days before. I explore how it works while enjoying pasta and a cup of brewed coffee. A huge yellow umbrella deflects the sun’s mild rays as I survey an oasis of emerald. It is cool, so cool on my eyes, that even the restless stirrings of my soul are stilled for the moment.

My cup of coffee is adorned with chocolate syrup feathers on steamed milk foam. The brown sugar glitters like crushed gems. I hesitate to drink and destroy the art. But I have seen it, it will always be in my mind’s eye, and the photograph I take lets me share the beauty I see with others.

After the meal, I walk a route familiar from undergraduate days, from the Vargas Museum past the Faculty Center and Palma Hall to the Main Library.

No one from UP calls Palma Hall that. It’s still ‘AS”, short for “College of Arts and Sciences”, which it housed before CAS was split up into the College of Science, College of Arts and Letters, and College of Social Science and Philosophy.

I look up and see a lacy tracery of leaves against the sky. There is always something new to see wherever you are – the trick is to change your angle of vision. Tilt your neck upwards, sideways, this way and that. Risk a stiff neck for a never-seen vista, a novel image. Be open to wonder. Squint. Use your imagination. Look at something upside-down. Experiment, marvel, accept.

Beside the Main Library is a new cafe – Bulwagan Cafe. I must visit it next time and see what caffeinated goodness they have to offer.

On the  front steps of the library are students. I hear there are some inside too, sometimes.

Across the library is a verdant bamboo grove. Beyond it is more grassy expanse, more earth and plants and wee creatures.

As dusk falls, the lamps across campus flick on one by one. I cast a glance back, and spy a lone orange globe glowing amber against the deep green of trees.

Past the library are more trees, lamps, and people for whom this campus is the center of the world, as it is mine this lazy hazy dreamy twilight time.

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Pelikan is a German brand of fine writing instruments established in 1838 by chemist Carl Hornemann, who initially concocted and sold inks and pigments in 1832. Another chemist, Gunther Wagner, took over the company in 1871 and adopted his family’s emblem, the pelican, as the company symbol in 1878.

In 1996, most of the company shares were acquired by a Malaysian holding firm. However, Pelikan pens are still made at the company plant 30 miles east of Hanover, Germany.

Pelikan continues its centuries-long tradition of quality and craftsmanship with the creation of limited edition pieces such as the 205 Traditional series Blue Demonstrator.

The Pelikan 205 Traditional series Blue Demonstrator (center) with a Sailor Pro-Colors Violet (top) and a Pilot Custom 74 Demonstrator (below).

Demonstrators, as their name suggests, allow you to see the mechanisms of the pens, as well as how much ink you have left, ensuring that you won’t run out in the middle of a sentence or a particularly effusive flourish.

Peli 205 blue demon writing sample in a Yeah! notebook with Diamine Cerise ink.

The pelican-beak-shaped clip, fittings, and ornamental rings are chromium-plated, with a built-in converter-style fill system, also called a plunger mechanism. It’s comfortably sized at 4.14 inches long capped, 5.13 inches long posted.

Available nib sizes are EF, F, M, and B. This one’s an F. The nib is hand-crafted and hand-polished stainless steel, strong and robust, yet with a hint of spring that allows a bit of play in line variation.

Pelikan pens are not distributed in Manila. Try buying online.

The pen is filled by dipping in an ink bottle and twisting the plunger mechanism from the bottom. This makes ink stain the section (the area just after the nib), which is why many collectors, such as myself, dislike inking demonstrators. But it looks pretty when filled.

The blue Peli demon rests on a Yeah! notebook, purchased at National Bookstore in Rockwell. A Moleskine knock-off – see elastic along the side – it is inexpensive and well-made, the paper creamy with no feathering and minimal show-through. Yeah!

The blue Peli demon and a Parker Jade Duofold rest on a Green Apple notebook (review to come in a future post) as they survey the shelves at the Boni High Street Fully Booked store.

The Peli’s clip is beak-shaped and has eyes (left). The Parker Duofold’s nib is gold and flexy. More on that next time.

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Because we fountain-pen enthusiasts can’t get enough of pen pron, here are more images of pens at the racetrack. These were taken at various times last year, some with a Nikon D-60, others with a Nokia cellphone camera, hence the disparity in image quality. Still, they will at least give a look at the context in which I usually play with my pens – when I’m commentating the Santa Ana Park races every other weekend.

The pink pen is a Sheaffer Agio from TAO, who saw it at a shop or flea market somewhere around this time last year. It’s got an F nib, and is perfect fit for me all around (thanks again, TAO!). It’s a reliable daily warrior. The blue is a Pilot Vanishing Point with a Binderized crisp italic nib from Leigh. A fascinating pen, it will have its own blog post later on. The same goes for the two urushi Nakaya Piccolos – the black from TAO, the reddish-black from Leigh.

The older models of the Pilot VP were called “capless” since this model doesn’t have a cap; the nib retracts in and out like some ballpoint pens.

A closer look shows where the nib emerges from. Since it is a crisp italic, it takes some getting used to, with the sharp edges snagging on paper. But with care and practice, wonderful calligraphic effects can be coaxed from the nib.

The black Nakaya and the Sheaffer Agio on a racing program.

The sharp, gold nibs of the Nakayas: the black on top has a medium nib, the kuro-tamenuri below carries a stock flexible fine.

A writing sample by Ik. The Vista she refers to is the Microsoft OS, not the Lamy!

My workhorses are the Lamys – a Raspberry AL-Star (top) and a Vista.

A close-up of the Lamy Raspberry AL-Star’s F nib.

From the top: Aluminum AL-Star, Pink Safari, Vista, and Raspberry. The latter is showing up orange in this image; its true color is reddish.

Pens and writing samples.

Holding the pens up in front of the TV monitor displaying the races. Behind the TV are a broadcast camera and Kino-flo lights. On the left side of the picture is a Starbucks “Philippines” tumbler, most likely drained of coffee by the time this picture was taken.

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On alternate weekends  I sit as anchor of the cable television live coverage of horseracing events at the Philippine Racing Club’s Santa Ana Park in Naic, Cavite.

There are usually 12 races on Saturday, 13 on Sunday. They start at 2:00 pm and are held at 30 to 40-minute intervals. I’m on-cam at the opening and closing of the show. In between, only my voice (and that of my co-host) is heard to introduce the entries at the post parade, give the pre-race and post-race analyses, read announcements, race odds, results, and pay-offs, and crack jokes. There are no scripts, it’s all ad-lib, and it’s pretty free-wheeling as long as you stick to the sequence.

I’m stuck in the studio the entire day, unless there are awarding ceremonies to emcee, which isn’t often. To amuse myself between races and spiels,  I doodle and test fountain pens and ink.

I play!

Last weekend I brought along these babies to the track and put them through their paces.

From the top, a Lamy Purple AL-Star EF; a Lamy Coffee AL-Star EF; a Parker Ringtop; a Sailor Pro Colors 500 in Geranium Red, originally a medium and modified by nibmeister Chito Limson into a stub;  and a Wahl 3 Greek Key.

Along with pens, ink gets tested too. Pilot Iroshizuku has a wonderful line of ink based on colors found in nature, in the earth and plants and trees of the Japanese countryside.

The Sailor running Pilot Iroshizuku tsutsuji (azalea).

Once a fountain pen is altered from its original state, the practice among pen collectors is to mention all changes made to it. In the case of nib modifications, a word is coined that refers to it using the nibmeister’s name. In the case of this Sailor, it is “Chitofied”.

To give a few more examples: “Binderized” (Richard Binder), “Mottishawed” (John Mottishaw). To use in a sentence: “Sorry, kids – your only inheritance is a Pilot Vanishing Point with a Binderized cursive italic nib.”

Most fountain pen nibs in gold and steel are tipped with “iridium”, a term that refers to metal alloys that are long-wearing and protect the softer gold and steel tips. In less expensive pens, the tip of the nib may just be turned back on itself to create the characteristic bump on the tip.

A nibmeister creates a stub nib by patiently grinding away the “iridium”, often by using abrasive pads like Micromesh. He may leave a soft-edged tip, or grind a straight line with rounded edges – a “stub”. If he sharpens the edges a bit more, he comes up with an italic nib. Sharpening even further, he creates a “crisp” italic nib.

Stubs and italics offer more line variation than the usual kinds of nibs (extra-fine, fine, medium, broad). They are more interesting to write with.

To obtain more variation and fancier effects, nothing comes close to vintage flexible nibs. The best, to my mind, are gold flex nibs from the 1930s and earlier. Below is a gold-filled Wahl 3 Art Deco pen from the ’20s.

Wahl 3 inked with Waterman Havana Brown. To see a Wahl (and a Nakaya elastic fine and flexible fine)  in action, watch this video at Leigh Reyes’s blog.

Lamy is a fantastic brand that marries contemporary design with reliability and performance. Here’s their Lamy AL-Star, which looks the same as their popular Safari model, except that the AL-Star’s barrel and cap are made of aluminum while the Safaris are plastic.

Lamy comes out with different colors of their AL-Star and Safari every so often and discontinuing them after each production batch, making each new color a collectible. This one’s called “Coffee”, rendering it irresistible to me. It lays a striking line when paired with gentle-for-pens Waterman ink in Havana Brown.

Modern steel nibs are “nails’ – they are unyielding and sturdy, making them suitable for daily road-warrior work such as note-taking, writing drafts and long letters, and defending yourself against muggers. (That’s a long story. Tell you next time.)

See the difference between the Wahl 3 and the Lamy.

Lamys at the track: Purple AL-Star, Coffee AL-Star, Aluminum AL-Star, Pink Safari. Save for the Aluminum, these are LE (limited edition) colors.

I bring at least four Lamys with me everyday, inked with different colors. But I also bring a flex pen or two to play with, and another vintage favorite is this Parker Duofold Jade ringtop with gold-filled cap trim from 1929 or thereabouts.

Pilot Iroshizuku momiji (autumn leaves) gives gradated effects when used in a flex-nib pen.

The Parker Duofold’s nib is glorious; I can do calligraphic tricks with it, creating thick and thin lines and all kinds in between by altering the pressure on the nib.

Doodling in between races with pens old and new, using inks of rainbow hues, relaxes me after each task and clears my head, so I approach the commentating of each race with undiminished energy.

“Aaaaand they’re off…!”

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Once upon a time, in a big city on one of the big islands of a tropical archipelago close to the equatorial belt where the best coffee in the world grows, there lived a pair of feet.

They were happy feet.

The happy feet loved to walk. Oh, how they could walk! The right happy foot and the left happy foot would take turns being in front, one after the other, walking around the city, getting from one place to another, doing what they were made to do.

But the happy feet were attached to the ankles of a lazy writer who stayed indoors for weeks on end, her bottom growing roots into her armchair as she typed boring articles and surfed the Intarwebz for hours and hours.

The happy feet didn’t get to go out much. That made them sad.

One day the lazy writer’s doctor-classmate-from-school said: You must exercise. I recommend walking. Everyday.

But how, the lazy writer asked.

Baby steps, he said. Take baby steps.

One day, the lazy writer put on a pair of wooden sandals. They were also called “Happy Feet“. The lazy writer’s happy feet loved them because they were light, which meant they could move faster.

They were cool, so the happy feet would not feel hot even on a blazing summer day.

They were open, and the happy feet loved that best of all! Because that meant the happy feet’s toes could wiggle and jiggle and wriggle like toes love to do.

The lazy writer took a cab to work because she was late for a meeting, as she usually was. On her way back home, she remembered her doctor-classmate-from-school’s advice. Baby steps, she told herself. I will walk home.

The happy feet were so excited!

The right happy foot and the left happy foot took turns taking baby steps, one in front of the other, walking towards home, as their toes wiggled and jiggled and wriggled with joy.

They walked dusty gray pavements, but they didn’t mind; there were many things to see along the way.

The happy feet met a plant that grew close to the ground. Its stalk and leaves were very green and they reached out to passing feet. Clip-clop, clip-clop, went the happy feet in the wooden sandals past the plant-in-the-pavement.

Along the way there was a sign for the lazy writer’s favorite energy drink on the facade of a sari-sari store in an old house. Beside the store was an old church. It had red-painted walls. Clip-clop, clip-clop went the happy feet past the store-in-a-house.

When the happy feet first set out, the sun was hidden behind gray clouds. After a while, the sun came out. It shone on the lazy writer’s head. A tall tree’s leaves glowed bright green against the sun, making the lazy writer squint and blink. Clip-clop, went the happy feet past the tree-in-sunlight.

They passed the site of an old racetrack. Once there were loud fans cheering race horses on. Now there were no more fans, no more horses, and no more track. Big noisy construction machines had leveled the place into the ground. Clip-clop, went the happy feet past the once-a-racetrack.

The happy feet met another plant. It was growing in a large metal can that once held infant formula, but now had holes punched with nails all over its bottom while inside it was soil from the old racetrack. The plant was healthy. Its leaves were pretty. Clip-clop, went the happy feet past the plant-in-a-can.

They rounded a corner and saw a big concrete horse’s head. It once sat on the gate in front of the old racetrack. Folks had taken the head down, cleaned it, and put it on a pedestal covered with tiles. This was so that people would always remember the old racetrack. The happy feet knew they were near home. Clip-clop, they went, taking baby steps a little bit faster, past the horse’s-head-marker.

Before them was a long stretch of road. Green tricycles lined up under big old mango trees wrapped in a rainbow, waiting to take passengers where they wanted to go. The drivers asked the lazy writer if she wanted to take a ride. No, thank you, she said. I’ll keep on walking. Clip-clop, went the happy feet past the tricycles-in-rainbow.

At last they came to their street. Close to the corner were two fighting-cock farms. Inside the red gate and the blue gate were many scratch pens of wood, like triangles set into the ground. There were also tall fly pens of wood and plastic mesh. There were many fighting cocks, crowing tik-ti-laok. The happy feet knew they were very near home. Clip-clop they went past the cockpits-in-city.

At last the happy feet were home! The lazy writer was happy too. She had taken baby steps to exercise and it wasn’t bad. It felt very good. And she saw a lot of interesting things along the way. She decided to take a walk more often. The happy feet were glad they got to do what they were made to do. And the toes wiggled and jiggled and wriggled for joy.

~ The End ~

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China possesses one of the world’s oldest scholarly traditions, dating back millenia. Symbols scratched on oracle bones found in Jiahu, a Neolithic settlement, suggest that the evolution of Chinese writing began around 6600 BCE. A trove of classical works from 770 BCE onwards enriches Chinese literature; these were appreciated and added to by the intelligentsia and, upon the invention of woodblock and moveable type printing, were widely disseminated and read by the learned for generations.

From carvings on bone and turtle plastrons for divinatory purposes, Chinese writing evolved into logosyllabic characters of ink brushed on paper serving practical (record-keeping) and artistic (literary) functions. The art of writing and calligraphy became skills cultivated among the upper and middle classes.

The tools of calligraphy were highly prized. Chinese scholars called them “the four treasures of the study” – the inkstone, inkstick, brushes, and paper. Other tools used were carved seals of stone, wood, or ivory; seal paste of cinnabar mixed with castor oil and silk strands or plant fiber; sculpted or carved paperweights; and desk pads.

Calligraphy is still taught in Chinese schools to the present day, all over the world. Filipino students work with writing sets, learning to imbue characters with emotion using deft, fluid strokes with an ink-dipped brush.

UK-based AL Merginio-Murgatroyd, a friend from school days, sent me this set. The cardboard box is covered with green silk that shines bluish in sunlight; the pattern is embroidered with violet-gray thread.

Inside, on red felt, three of the ‘four precious things of the library’. This set includes a seal and seal paste.

The seal is marble, uncarved, waiting for me to choose a special sign to have engraved upon it. The inkstick has a golden dragon upon it – it’s too beautiful to use!

Inksticks were traditionally made from soot and glue. They often have carvings or were molded into whimsical shapes like flowers. Many inkstones, especially antiques, are works of art and cherished by collectors.

To use, drag water from the inkstone’s ‘well’ on to the ‘plain’; grind the inkstick against the stone until the water in the well runs dark enough.

Seals are used like rubber stamps – dab the carved side into seal paste, and gently press it onto the surface of the paper, rocking it back and forth to ensure a good impression. Remember to keep seal paste containers covered and in the box to prevent it from drying out.

As I hold this box in my lap, I think of many things – the sheer weight of the thousands of years of Chinese culture; the literature classics written with materials like these, from the Tao Te Ching to the Confucian Analects; that practical things may also be works of beauty, and uplift to an art the labor done with them; how writing tools have evolved through time in various civilizations; and more, and more.

Most of all I think of how a friend now in a cold country far from her motherland’s tropical warmth, who taught me Math and conversed with me when I was in elementary and she in high school with license to ignore the small fry yet still kindled the fires of friendship, a friend whom I have not seen for more than two decades, keeps our connection burning with this and other tokens of remembrance.

Thank you, AL. I hope one day to see you again, and embrace you again, and show you my gratitude for your love through the years. Be blessed.

Photos by Alex Alcasid; inkstone and seal ‘how-to’ images here.

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