Perhaps I intimidated myself by resolving to write about my collection by the order in which I acquired each pen. That required me, in the first place, to remember that order. The person I think I am requires me, in turn, to remember that order exactly, and the possibility of posting a mistake, or correcting the mistake, brought with it too convenient an excuse.
Above is the pen boat, one of the reasons for my disorganization, but not the entire reason. It’s formally used to serve bread, but for me it casually houses most of my collection, at least the part of it that I’m using at the moment.
It’s roughly organized between ballpoints and fountain pens; obviously never organized enough. It’s a rough way to house pens — could you guess that there’s several thousand dollars worth of pens in that jumble of two stacks? You would have to have a good eye, or you might have to be a collector, I think, as not enough shines to give its real value – something that happens too often in life.
I don’t like the scratches that some pens get from being stored this way — and for that matter a pen that scratches too easily, or wears them too easily, might be a kind of pen that I don’t buy again. But a pen with wear is a pen that’s lived…
And I like the reaching and not knowing, somewhat, what I’ll lay my hands on next. As often as I get I want, I am also often surprised at a pen I’d forgotten, at one I took for granted in good way or a bad way, at an unwitting victim of my own evolving tastes.
Here’s to restarting this examination. I’m suddenly full of ideas, as full as this is pen boat is, with pens.