Libelle Winter Storm

Usually when I shop for a new fountain pen, I agonize over which one to get. The selection process can take quite awhile as I read and re-read different descriptions and reviews and struggle to stay within my budget. Not too long ago, I ordered a Libelle Autumn Leaves fountain pen for my wife. It is a nice looking pen but not one I would have chosen for myself. However, as soon as I saw the Winter Storm, I ordered one right away. It really does look like it is made of cracked ice! I also really appreciate the diameter and length - 5 inches without the cap. It is very comfortable: not too light and not overly heavy. It is available only with a medium nib. It writes very well - in fact this one writes more smoothly than the more costly Libelle Epic of which I have written earlier - even though they have the same style nib. Curiously, the Libelle Epic came with a rather flimsy converter, which is awkward to use. But the Winter Storm arrived with a better quality converter that operates well. A couple of my pens are nice to look at but not much fun to write with. Libelle really hit the mark with the Storm on style, form, size, price and color - and it writes well too. What more could you ask for?

Fountain Pen Day

My wife offered me the greatest gift for my birthday: a fountain pen day. This means that I get to spend the day reading and writing with and about fountain pens! Recently, a friend of mine asked me why I like fountain pens so much? So, what is the reason? I had to think about the answer at first, and then it dawned on me: fountain pens represent resistance against technopoly. Not just resistance against technology but the recognition that faster is not always better. Easier isn't always best. We are living in an age where drive-through tellers, restaurants and pharmacies are normal. Face to face contact is less common and less valued. Even though I am an introvert, I used to enjoy striking up conversations with the cashiers - it was a pleasant human activity. Now, the cashier is constantly pointing me back to the debit pin-pad and it is impossible to have a conversation. We are no longer running the machines; the machines are running us. I would like to return to the world where there is time to sit inside a restaurant to eat lunch; where the banker and grocer know who I am and I know who they are; where you do business face to face; where signmakers paint signs with brushes rather than computer cut letters; where people have real paintings in their homes rather than posters; where people play boardgames; where we are more concerned about what politicians say versus what they look like and where people write letters on actual paper. So, fountain pens represent a lifestyle and a pace that is rapidly disappearing. Taking the time to write with a fountain pen is an act of resistance but it is also recognizing that writing is a unique human priviledge. Conveying ones ideas and thoughts on paper with a fine pen becomes an act of thoughtful leisure. Using a beautiful and well-made fountain pen produces the same kind of rewarding satisfaction that I experience using one of my grandfather's woodplanes to trim down a piece of fresh pine. Technopoly is deadening our senses. Tools that allow us to use more of ourselves in their operation - that require more of our time and concentration - also keep more of our senses alert and awake.