Breaking news ... breaking news ... breaking news...

The siege is over: the ink has just arrived. It's a glorious colour - somewhere between grey and aubergine is probably the best way to describe it. No longer a hostage, I'm off to think about ink in the library. Move along - nothing to see here...

Ink in use today: Noodler's Nightshade (hurrah!)

Mayday, mayday

I'm being held hostage by ink.

My great plan for the morning was to go the University library to do some research and writing about ink. I came into work armed with index cards and my best notebook for the occasion. More importantly, I also came bearing an empty fountain pen, as I'm expecting a delivery of some new ink today (Noodler's Nightshade, to be precise).

But here's the problem: the post hasn't arrived yet, so I'm still stuck in my office. Yes, I have another (filled) pen with me, but I'd planned to do my work with the new ink, and I can't now contemplate using anything else. I have food, water, and a comfortable chair to sleep in, and I'm not moving until my parcel arrives. I have about nine hours until they lock the building and switch on the alarms. Ink has me under siege. It's keeping me from thinking about ink.

Ink in use today: None (yet).

Different Strokes

I never thought that I'd say this, but I haven't been thinking about ink too much recently.

Before you think that I have wandered from the faith, allow me to explain. It's the marking season at the University at the moment, so every moment of every day has been devoted to assessing students' essays. In an attempt to keep myself awake and interested, I've been changing pens with every new set of papers. (I've realized that a fine nib is called for when marking; a stint with a calligraphy nib quickly descended into farce.) I've kept the ink fairly constant - Conway Stewart Brown and Levenger Cocoa have been the colours of the semester - but I've just ventured into unchartered territory. Halfway through a batch of scripts, I picked up the wrong pen and began to mark one student's essay in a completely different colour (Private Reserve Tanzanite, to be precise). Realizing my mistake, I finished the paper, picked up the next, and switched back to my original ink.

I'm now wondering if this is acceptable. Can I give back a pile of papers in which just one has been annotated in an alternative ink? Will the student feel victimized? (We mark everything anonymously, by the way, so I have no idea to whom the essay in question belongs.) Will s/he read something into the discrepancy and launch a law suit? Has my ownership of far too much ink put my career on the line?

While I'm pondering this ethical crisis, I've been updating my catalogue of inks. Here, then, is the current state of things:

Conway Stewart Brown
Diamine Golden Brown
Diamine Grey
Diamine Prussian Blue
Diamine Sepia (two bottles)
Diamine Umber
Herbin Lie de Thé (bottle and cartridges)
Herbin Terre de Feu
Herbin Vert Olive
Levenger Cocoa
Mont Blanc Bordeaux
Mont Blanc Sepia
Montegrappa Red
Noodler's Black
Noodler's Walnut
Omas Grey
Papyrus Sepia
Private Reserve Avacado (sic)
Private Reserve Tanzanite
Sheaffer Skrip Brown
Visconti Brown
Waterman Florida Blue
Waterman Havana
Yard-o-Led Sepia

Inks in use today: Conway Stewart Brown; Private Reserve Tanzanite (once)

Curious Orange

My struggle to discover the true identity of ink (detailed below in the post entitled 'Identinkty Theft') has taken a new twist. While sorting through some papers in my office this morning, I came across some notes that I took about a year ago. Well, almost...

What stared up at me from the page was definitely my handwriting, but the words were in bright orange, a colour that I have never used. (I don't mean that an orange-ish tint was in evidence, by the way; it looked as if I had been writing with Tango.) It actually took a few seconds for me to realize that I was looking at something written in my own hand. I still, ten hours later, feel a little disoriented by the experience, as if I had momentarily stumbled through a screen into a parallel universe where things look totally different, where I love orange ink.

I have retraced my inky steps to early 2005. Let the record show that I was enjoying a brief, passionate affair with Sheaffer Brown and Diamine Sepia inks at the time. I cannot be sure, though, which of these I was involved with on the day that the notes were written. Let the record also show that the sheet of paper has not been exposed to continuous sunlight on my windowsill for the last twelve months; it has, rather, been sitting quietly in my filing cabinet. What, then, has caused this curious citrus outburst? Has my zest for ink become literal? Are other fruity colours secretly seeded in my archives?

Inks in use today: Noodler's Walnut, Diamine Golden Brown.