Category Archives: Paper

Reverting Back to Sharpened Sticks

One of the strangest things that happens to the pen and stationery addicted is they eventually revert back to using wood pencils. At least for a while.

I’m not sure what causes this phenomenon but most of us already have various versions of mechanical pencils which are sort of, almost, like pens. Moving to wood pencils therefore isn’t that big of a step.

Also, since a lot of us, especially fountain pen users, are already well lost in retro mode, using pencils gets us lost on a different level of retro. Sort of a Retro Retro.

In my case, I’ve always had a few wood pencils around in case the urge to draw and or sketch hits me.

Note: This urge occurs for about three days once every seven years. That’s one day to get the urge and go shopping; one day to actually draw stuff; and one day to find a place to store the new stuff.

Second Note: Yes, I know I have stuff on hand for when the urge hits but using it would require 1) that I remember I have it and 2) that I remember where it’s stored. Also, new stuff is better than old stuff.

For some reason, when I was making a lot of purchases from Levenger, I noticed they were selling boxes of pencils. I was most interested in the wood box they came in. (I have a thing for boxes more on that in another post) and them being stamped with the word “pencil” in six different languages. Each box had 20 pencils.

However, soon after I got them, I reverted back to using pens. Over time I’ve used almost one entire box and the other remains unopened an unused. In fact, the pencils are still in the plastic.

The last three pencils in the first box and the unused second box in the background.

The last three Levenger pencils in the first box and the unused second box in the background.

Now I hear there’s an entire store in New York City dedicated to wood pencils. Suddenly I’m feeling the urge to draw. At least for a while.

Kokuyo IDEA Notebooks–A Good Notebook Full of Bad Ideas

The Kokuyo IDEA notebook is a great idea in the wrong size and shape.

For those of us sick enough to follow the stationery and pen business, the trendiest paper you can use as a fountain pen user is Tomoe River paper from Japan. (Note: that’s Toe Moe Eh with the last syllable pronounced the same as “day”)

Tomoe River paper is thin but fountain pen friendly, meaning when you use a fountain pen, ink doesn’t bleed through and stain the page below. Unfortunately there aren’t that many products made with Tomoe River paper except thick notebooks and annual planners that are too thick to carry.

However, Japanese stationery company Kokuyo recently produced the JIBUN_TECHO or personal diary system (link in Japanese). It is a personal calendar and diary system comprised of a reusable cover filled with three replaceable and interchangeable inserts: DIARY, which is a daily planner made of Tomoe River paper; LIFE, which is a kind of organized book of lists made from thicker Mio paper; IDEA which is Tomoe River paper printed with dot grid graph paper pattern designed for random scribbles and scrapbooking.

The main problem with the IDEA notebook is the size.  At 21 cm by 12.5 cm (8.26″ by 4.9″) it is too big to fit in a pocket which means you always have to have a bag to carry it in. It’s also too wide  to fit in the popular Midori Traveler’s Notebook leather covers (more on that later) .

The IDEA notebook compared with a Field Notes notebook.

The IDEA notebook compared with a Field Notes Red Blooded notebook.

That, however, is my only complaint. The notebook consists of 40 sheets of Tomoe River paper stitched together rather than stapled and printed with a 3 mm dot grid pattern (with a hard rule on the left). Despite the size, it’s the paper that makes this an excellent notebook. Tomoe River paper is unlike any other paper and is a treat to write on. I use mine to record a daily list of ten or more ideas–business ideas, article ideas, blog post ideas, ideas for other blogs, and lots of bad ideas–and I rotate to through my various fountain pens and inks.

Thus far the only ink I’ve had problems with is Noodler’s Apache Sunset which seems designed to test the limits of every form of paper. It has a lot of ghosting and, especially with a thick nib and/or a flex nib, occasional spots of bleedthrough. This doesn’t bother me as I’ve learned to embrace the bleedthrough, but it can be a deal breaker for some pen users.

An example of the ghosting. Surprisingly, it didn't bleed through to the next page.

An example of Apache Sunset ghosting from a Kaweco Sport with an M nib. Also a good look at the dot grid pattern.

Unfortunately, the system isn’t very popular in Japan and I can’t imagine the notebooks being around much longer. That said, Kokuyo also recently released an IDEA mini, which is 18.2 cm by 10.7 cm (7.2″ by 4.2″) that appear to fit in the Traveler’s Notebook cover with some room to spare. They can be purchased from Nanami Paper.

I have a few of those, too. They are built the same and have the same paper and dot grid graph pattern. They just don’t hold as many bad ideas.

 

 

 

 

Pilot/Namiki Vanishing Point “Faceted Version” Long-Term Review

It took me 20 years to write today’s review.

I don’t remember which one I got first, but I think it was the Pilot. I seem to remember getting it back when I was at graduate school at Ole Miss in 1995. I got the Namiki right after I moved to Japan in 1996. The latter came in a fancy pen coffin with enough room for three pens. Me being me, I got them both in basic black, although I wish I’d thought to get a different color.

The Namiki and the Pilot. Only the names have changed.

The Namiki and the Pilot in the coffin. Only the names have changed.

In the end, though, it doesn’t matter what order I got them, because they’re both basically the same pen with the same strengths and structural weaknesses.

As I’ve written before, my fountain pen history moved from a Cross Century to a GoldenStar 711 to a Retro 51 200 series before a friend introduced me to the Vanishing Point.

VPs are rather strange at first. The built-in clip takes some getting used to, but I found the “facted version” of the pen to be thin and light enough that I didn’t have any problem adjusting to it. I’ve used both pens enough that I’ve worn slight dents in the clips l where my index finger rested.

Oddly, when I switched back to regular fountain pens I found myself rolling the pen in ways I couldn’t with the VP. One advantage of the built-in clip is you always hold your pen correctly, at least if you are right-handed.

There’s also a charm to being able to click the pen into use rather than fiddling with a twist cap and posting and hoping you don’t lose the cap and then fiddling with the cap again and then doing it all over when you realize that in all the fiddling you forgot to write something down.

The VP nibs are terrific. I prefer the thicker Medium–that nib and Pilot Blue/Black ink is still one of my favorite pen and ink combinations–but had very few complaints about the Fine except the way it got scratchy on cheap paper. I otherwise never had any problems with them, even though I used them for almost 20 years and tended to flush them infrequently (once every five years or so, give or take).

The only complaint I’ve had in those 20 years was structural. The barrels on both pens–specifically the part with the “nock”–cracked over time. I suspect that it was partly a combination of over-tightening, being tossed in bags and occasional, sudden flights to the floor. It’s also partly the result of questionable design as the “female” threads are cut directly in the plastic and there’s no metal ring reinforcing them even though they are tightening over metal “male” threads on the pen body. (That sentence didn’t seem dirty until I wrote it.)

Several years ago, during a trip to one of the Tokyo pen shows, I asked the Pilot booth if it was possible to repair the pens. They referred me to the pen section of the store where the show was taking place. The clerk took both pens and sent them off to Pilot Pens which managed to find a replacement barrel for one. The other remains cracked and retired and I’ve always claimed I got the last replacement barrel in Japan. (It seems they were only out of black, though. I could have got another color.)

Eventually I replaced the “faceted versions” with a modern VP made of metal. I like the new style, and will review it some day, but nothing beats the sleek look of the “faceted” VPs. They are works of art.

Still good looking, even after 19 of use.

Still sleek and good looking, even after 20 years of use.

 

 

 

 

Making Your Time Thing is Not a Waste of Time

Any close analysis of it will tell you that I think too much about calendars.

I’ve written before how, after years of trying to find the perfect calendar, I gave up and started constructing my own. There is a certain feeling of accomplishment that you’re carrying something you made. The feeling lasts until you realize how much time you wasted making something that was supposed to keep you from wasting time.

That feeling goes away quickly, though, I’ve found.

My main problem is that I inevitably find flaws even with the calendars I made myself. For the past few years I’ve used an A4 sized calendar made from A3 paper. I printed a 12 day pattern on both sides then folded and sewed them together. Being a masochist at heart, apparently, I wrote all the dates in by hand. A smart person would learn how to let the computer enter all the dates, but if you’ve been reading this blog for any length of time, well, yeah, you know how smart I actually am.

Next week's schedule. Guess where I'll be on or around the weekend.

Next week’s schedule on this year’s calendar. Guess where I’ll be on or around the 27th.

I like the 12 day format because I can write a lot in each day, but can’t write too much. I also like that I can get a full year in only seven or eight pages making it easy to carry.

The problem is that with the old system I didn’t have any overview of the year. I found myself turning the page and suddenly remembering the special event listed the very next day. Also, because the calendars are center bound and I just fold a page over, flipping and unfolding to find a past date can look a lot like black belt level origami (knowing Japan, that almost certainly exists).

What I’ve done this year is put 12 days on one page and left the back side blank. I’ve added full year calendar at the front and a monthly special events calendar behind that. I’ve then added card stock covers and left-bound it all with staples and gaffer’s tape. It makes the book thicker, but I suspect it will be a lot easier to use. I can also use facing pages for notes and random scribbles.

This format also gives me covers to scribble and doodle on.

I’ve backed it all up on computer (Google Calendar) so I can keep track of things when I’m not carrying the big book.

At least that’s how it all works this year. Next year, I’ll probably try something different.

Have fun now, because your days are probably numbered. No pun intended.

Have fun now, because your days are probably numbered. No pun intended.

My Daily Log Book is Not My Blog

When I want to, I can draw. I can also have neat penmanship when I want to. The trouble is, most of the time I just can’t be bothered.

As I’ve written before, I’ve had the same problem with keeping a daily diary. I’ve started valiantly many times but then slowly but surely abandoned the daily entries and, inevitably, abandoned the notebook with at least one third of the pages empty.

This year, as a way to try something different (last year’s project was this blog) and to use up thick notebooks that no longer interest me, I’ve decided to keep a daily log.

The difference between the log and a diary is that rather than writing a summary of the day when I’m too tired to care, a log is filled in throughout the day. I keep track of the weather, work, my various layers of crankiness and all my meals.

Every now and then I have an actual accomplishment to record.

I also like the log because it gives me an excuse to keep several pens inked and actually have an excuse to use them. It also gives me an excuse to use a Muji notebook I’ve had in storage for a few years.

To make the log different than anything I’ve done before, I’ve decided to sketch out the weather as silly cartoons.

More interesting than an actual weather report.

More interesting than an actual weather report.

The little cartoons aren’t great and my handwriting, especially if I don’t support the thin side enough, is worse. Still, it’s a lot of fun and it helps get a notebook that I know I wouldn’t use otherwise out of storage and into use.

There is a problem with bleedthrough on the Muji paper, but I learned to embrace that a long time ago. I even found a philosophical way to justify it:

The words in the cloud seem more profound than they really are.

The words in the cloud seem more profound than they really are. Chicken rice is the proof of that.

The log is still a work in progress and I’m going to add more sketches as I go along. Lately I’ve also been adding a short summary of the day at the end.

The problem is, once I’m done, the notebook will go into a different storage area. But at least it will have been used.

In With the New; Now What With the Old?

I have a problem with notebooks.

As problems go, a notebook problem is not a huge problem, but it’s still a problem.

All though I tend to prefer to write things down as it gives me an excuse to buy pens, one of the problems I have with analogue notebooks is that once I finish them I still have them.

I then have the problem about what to do with them.

I have this problem with books too, but I rarely have to go back through a book and decipher my handwriting. Although, in all fairness, there are some cryptic notes in the handful of textbooks I kept. For example: LitCrit; B.S. P.H.D; and 8 Wombats Live. The first, I think, was a comment on a character’s comment that sounded like something from literary criticism; the second was my reaction to someone’s literary criticism (the P.H.D. means “Piled Higher and Deeper” you can guess what B.S. means); and the latter I think must have been some graffiti I saw somewhere and then scribbled in the margin of the book. Or it’s a band name I thought of. Or it’s an actual band. I don’t remember.

With books though, as long as I’ve not marked them up too heavily, I can always sell them off or give them away. With notebooks, though, I have to find a way to save the few snippets that I wrote down that are actually worth saving. I can photograph them and upload them to Evernote but that still leaves me the problem of finding stuff on my computer or on my phone whilst hoping the batteries don’t run out. Even searchable storage reaches a critical mass of “that’s too much mass” to be useful.

I can also transcribe the notes into a computer but that means I have to come face to face with my handwriting.Then there’s still the problem of critical mass and easy searching.

That, however, isn’t as bad as what I actually find in my notebooks, especially the thicker ones I’ve kept around for years. There are the false profundities scribbled haphazardly during a commute. There are also the moments that seemed like a really good idea but I don’t remember where I was going with them. For example “I can’t believe I’m here writing for the sole purpose of making a mess” seems like a really catchy opening line, for something. As is “The disaster is now the backdrop. The people only props” which I think I wrote after the earthquake and tsunami in 2011. The trouble is I didn’t date it or add any context.

Lately I’ve been doing daily or weekly transcriptions. This lets me enter the material while it’s still fresh, but that can steal time from real work.

Then there’s the final problem: throwing the notebooks out or storing them. I’d prefer to store them, as thumbing through the old notes can be inspiring, but storing them requires space. Now that I’m using smaller notebooks, it’s easier to transcribe them and throw them out, but there’s still a part of me that thinks I might need that someday.

Lots of Pens Without Much Passion

A cute Japanese lady almost convinced me to buy a pen, but I told her I couldn’t.

Actually I said I’d have to think about it and then asked if they’d still be around on Monday.

Today was the 16th Mitsukoshi Fountain Pen Festival at Mitsukoshi Department Store in Downtown Tokyo. (It’s two blocks from where the Maruzen World Fountain Pen Fair took place last week.)

Last year when I went I was underwhelmed at what I found. Today I was only slightly more whelmed.

Today was helped by the presence three of Japans’ small fountain pen makers: Nakaya, Ohashido and Eboya (more on them later). I also like that the Mitsukoshi Festival has a table with racks of pens visitors are welcome to try. Piles of notebooks are also provided although, being a writer and a proper addict, I brought my own.

Try it, you'll like it. (Then you'll want to buy it.)

Try it, you’ll like it. Then you’ll want to buy it. (I spent a lot of time here trying and rejecting rationalizations.)

Mr. Yoshida of Nakaya was there fixing nibs and I was actually able to get get close enough to the table to handle some of the pens. However, She Who Must Be Obeyed apparently put a curse on me before I left the house because each Nakaya I touched burned my skin and I heard the Devil’s voice telling me I was going to burn and that forever was a very long time.

I also got a chance to try out Eboya pens. They specialize in pens made from ebonite. I impressed and scared them when I showed my Edison Glenmont LE. I was impressed with the Eboya and they are now on the possibles list.  I was disappointed, though, that they use Peter Bock nibs rather than manufacturing their own.

Two ebonite pens from Eboya. The force is strong in these two.

Two ebonite pens from Eboya. The force is strong in these two, but I don’t like the gold band on the cap.

The problem with the show is a problem that seems to apply to all Japanese pen shows: they are run for the stores and not for the enthusiasts. The Mitsukoshi fair had a terrific selection of pens, but most of the counters were run by Mitsukoshi clerks. Mitsukoshi, for those who don’t know, is similar to Harrods in London and Saks Fifth Avenue in New York. It’s for people with money and not the unwashed saving up to buy a Nakaya.

As such, there are no small stores selling pens, no vintage pens, and no fountain pen peripherals for sale. Although Mitsukoshi has a stationery section, there are no pen cases or pen cleaning items for sale. There’s also very little or ink, except that produced by one of the big pen companies. Sailor’s ink mixing master usually makes an appearance at the show, but he wasn’t there today.

Each company provides their own pen repair expert, but only at certain times on certain days. It’s all very serious and there’s also not a lot of charm or passion.

Th Pilot Pens section. The man in the front is repairing pens.

The Pilot Pens section. The man in the front is repairing pens. There’s not much passion on display here.

For example, Pelikan had an impressive display where visitors could try pens of different sizes with different nibs. It looked cool and after playing with the larger pens, I asked if I could take a picture. The clerk half scoffed/half sneered a “no you can’t take a picture.” I walked away saying that I didn’t realize that “Pelikan” was German for “asshole”. I may have to work that into my vocabulary: “Watch where you’re walking, Pelikan,” “Hey, Pelikan, stop trying to cut in line,” or “Hey, Pelikan, let me take a picture of your pen display.”

I’m not sure I’ll ever go again. That’s a lie. I’ll be there again next year.

Good Things Come in Threes a Bunch at a Time

I’m trying to figure out if I bought some notebooks or a bunch of Beanie Babies.

First you have to understand how particular I am about notebooks and how the internet creates odd groups and fads.

As a writer I’ve worked my way through different types of notebooks depending on whatever phase/pretension I was in the middle of. I also always had problems with every notebook I ever had. There were those that were too precious, those that had spiral binding and those that were too thick. The latter were especially a problem as I’d soon get tired of carrying the large notebooks and start leaving them at home. Looking back at those I still have, I doubt I ever used every page of one.

Several years ago I stumbled across a line of notebooks called Moleskine. They were, at the time, fairly expensive, even for Japan but were pocket sized and well made. They also included a built in bookmark, a storage pocket, and an elastic band that held them shut. I bought a couple and then, when I got home, discovered in the storage pocket a little card that explained the history of the Moleskines. It involved Picasso and Hemingway and was such bullshit that I actually felt as if I’d been duped buying the notebooks.

Eventually, I worked my way through one book and started using the other. Of course, me being me, I cut out the bookmark (it’s annoying) and ripped out the elastic closure (also annoying). I won’t buy anymore because 1) they are now absurdly expensive, especially for Japan; 2) they aren’t that good; 3) despite not being very good they’ve remained too trendy; and 4) despite being trendy, no one can agree on how to pronounce their name (Moleskin; Moleskeen; or MolaSkeena). The latter is apparently the most accurate, but it’s too pompous to be taken seriously. It’s like going to Starbucks and using an Italian accent to order a frappuccino.

Instead I’ve recently been a convert to Field Notes. Field Notes are pocked sized journals with 48 pages (usually). I’ve already found them more convenient than the thicker Moleeseekineikies (or however you say it). They are easier to carry and it’s easier to find the notes you made. I’ve already finished a book and have stocked up on a few extra. I even, as part of the tithing I’ve mentioned before, subscribed to their annual limited editions.

The problem with Field Notes, though, is those limited editions (called COLORS). Basically every three months the masterminds behind the Chicago based Field Notes put out a special edition to subscribers. Each set comes in a pack of three notebooks and there is violence involved with people who throw away the band that holds them together (more on that later). Each subscriber receives two packs of the special edition and two packs of the company’s generic notebooks.

They started out with simple colors but have since been embossed, enlarged, waterproofed, clad in wood and even given out at random in sealed boxes. The newest versions have been wood type printed at a museum in Wisconsin and part of every sale goes to the support the museum.

The problem is the community that’s grown up around Field Notes can be both exciting and kind of scary. Some of the early limited editions can sell for hundreds of dollars if they are still in their sealed three pack. Serious collectors trade and deal to get complete sets (as of yesterday there are 26 limited “COLORS” editions). They also try to acquire custom versions made for businesses and conventions. Even the paper bands that hold them together have become collectible.

A few months ago Brad Dowdy of the Pen Addict opened a rare set and started using it. The reaction surprised him and he kept pointing out that he got them to use not to resell. It might have a high value now, but he bought it to use and because he liked the color. (Rather than freaking out, the collectors should have thanked him for increasing the value of their holdings.)

A few weeks ago I ordered a couple sets of a version called “America The Beautiful” from a store here in Japan. The day after my order was confirmed, the store, having apparently dealt with serious collectors before, contacted me to tell me that one of the sets had accidentally been opened and the decal lost. (Some of the sets come with extras.) If I wanted to cancel my order they understood. I didn’t cancel and they threw in a free set of a different, less popular COLORS edition.

What it reminds me the most of, at this point, is the Beanie Babies craze. That bubble cost people lots of money and even a couple lives. The best thing about the notebooks is that even if there’s a collapse, the collector at least has something they can actually use.

As for me, I’m not that interested in the collecting, especially as I tend to abandon collections after a certain point. That said, if someone wants to send me lots money for anything I own, I’ll be happy to ship it to you.

This stuff might get someone killed.

This stuff might get someone killed.

The Kickstarter’s Dilemma

Any careful consideration of the topic will convince you that Kickstarter is a very dangerous place to visit, especially if you own a credit card.

And it’s not the only place that’s dangerous.

Part of the danger stems from an odd idea I got a couple years ago that an interesting way to tithe, especially as I am dubious of churches as institutions (long story), would be to contribute a small percentage of my income to supporting small manufacturers, especially those just starting out. I also had a preference for manufacturers in the USA, although that was a guideline not a rule. I started with knife makers (in the USA and New Zealand) and, thanks to the enablers at the Pen Addict podcast, slowly moved into pens and other things being sold on Kickstarter.

This has been a mixed blessing. Thus far I’ve backed eight projects and had little or no problem with four of them. My first project was a batch of pen cases from Nock Co (owned by Brad Dowdy of the Pen Addict) and although there was some delay caused by the company’s ambition (hint: too many ideas, too many colors, not enough time, no sewing machine), I got the pen cases with no problem and now carry two regularly. I also passed a couple to the girls and use a couple more as storage for pen parts. Granted, there are a couple unused cases I stare at and think “what ever will I do with you” and they whisper back buy more pens and I whisper back “okay”. (No, really, the pen cases whisper to me. I think.)

I also had no problem with Eighty Pages, Karas Kustoms or the Decadent Minimalist One wallet.

Two projects, however, have proceeded slowly. One at least keeps backers updated; the other doesn’t seem to understand why the backers are upset that deadlines keep being missed. Two haven’t yet had a chance to disappoint.

I’ve declined to back more projects than I’ve supported, including pens from Tactile Turn, although I then ended up winning one in a contest. I can’t explain my criteria. Some things don’t interest me enough to bother and somethings don’t ship to Japan. Somethings are absurdly priced.

I’m also always aware that I’m walking a thin line between “tithing” and “just buying stuff”.

Then there’s Massdrop. That’s another danger zone. (Although it has some nice stuff.)

 

Racks of Temptation But Little Fun

I only reached for my credit card twice but I ended up not buying anything.

Well, maybe it was three times.

Today was the 6th World Fountain Pen Fair at Maruzen Books in downtown Tokyo. After work, I rushed down to Tokyo, cameras in hand, hoping to get some useful material for this site. When I arrived at Maruzen, I was surprised to see the fair was taking place in the basement.

When I got to the basement, the first thing I did was look for the Nakaya table. (Note, For those who don’t love fountain pens and therefore have no soul: Nakaya pens are one of the Holy Grails of fountain pens.) (Second Note: in this case “Holy Grail” is Japanese for “Really F@#king Expensive Pen”). They are sought after because they are handmade by experienced artisans and manage to be both simple and beautiful.

Unfortunately, Nakaya didn’t seem to be anywhere in the basement. Instead I looked around at famous production pens like Pelikan and, oddly, Platinum, which is the company Nakaya split from. The entire fair could have been mistaken for simply another department in the store as there was nothing special about it. While I was there, I tried out a Pelikan Souveran 800 and started reaching for my credit card. I do not claim this was a sane act but I did it. Luckily, I remembered I was looking for Nakaya pens so put my credit card back.

I then went to the 3rd floor to check out a rare and antique books section and found a new must-have item for work: a fake dictionary that houses a bottle of whiskey and a shot glass.

On the way back downstairs, I suddenly stumbled across the Nakaya table, which was set up practically in the foyer next to umbrellas. It was a terrible location where casual shoppers met pen addicts in a small traffic jam.

Today was especially interesting for Nakaya fans because Mr. Shinichi Yoshida, the nibmeister for Nakaya, was at the table adjusting nibs for newly purchased pens. The cheapest pen I saw that I liked was just over 59,000 yen or 491 US dollars. Oddly, this is a decent price for a Nakaya with a nib modified by Mr. Yoshida so I started to reach for my credit card. I then realized that I was like the 10th person in line hoping to even get in line so I put my credit card back.

Mr. Yoshida works on the youngest man at the show's new purchase.

The Nakaya table. Mr. Yoshida (right) works on the youngest man at the show’s new purchase.

Right next to the Nakaya table was the Ohashi-do table. Ohashi-do is a Sendai based fountain pen maker who also makes everything by hand. Or, maybe, by foot.

I neglected to write down the name of the artisan, but he was busy working a foot-powered lathe to make a pen and I didn’t want to interrupt him. The line for the table was short and I started to reach for my credit card, but I was more interested in watching the man with no name work.

The man with no name works using his feet.

The man with no name works using his feet. He has really cool socks.

The man with no name adjusts the lathe with a small mallet.

The man with no name adjusts the lathe with a small mallet. You can see how long the orange acrylic rod is.

All in all, I find that Japanese pen shows are lacking in energy. The Nakaya and Ohashi-do tables were fun, but the rest was boring clerks in suits. I’ll go to the 16th Mitsukoshi Fountain Pen Festival next week. I hope it’s more fun.

I probably better leave my credit cards at home before I go. I don’t know if I can survive temptation twice.