Splish Splash

Always a noteworthy day for us ink mavens when a new batch of inkdrop samples arrive from Goulet Pens. Of course, after one look at the ink already stacked up in my workroom almost anyone would write me off as hopelessly obsessed. I remember chatting with nibmeister Nobuhiko Moriyama in Tokyo one day, and his casual comment—with a smile and the experience of having seen it often enough—that I was suffering from an ink malady. I plead guilty, if guilty is the correct word. I like my ink and sometimes feel undressed if there aren’t multi-colored ink stains on all ten fingers.

As is the case in each and every aspect of business at gouletpens.com, the inkdrop samples go out in the mail promptly on the first day of each month. Not the first time to say it, but no one beats Brian and Rachel in customer service. They do it all so very, very well. As is usual, the samples arrived in my mailbox before the fifth day of the month. Unlike last month however, the five samples this month arrived with the names of each sample attached. April was “Guess What” month as far as the brands and names went, an experiment that didn’t work for me, but in defense of Brian and Rachel’s unnamed mail outs, they did include labels this month for the unnamed ink last month.

The five inkdrop samples this time are: (1) Noodler’s Apache Sunset, (2) Diamine Majestic Blue, (3) J Herbin Poussière de Lune, (4) Iroshizuku Kon Peki and (5) Noodler’s Cactus Fruit Eel. Forget for a moment the individual colors and consider what a impressive set of inks this is as a group. Brian calls them the ‘Goulet Favorites’ and in response to that I am prompted to say the man has perfect pitch in putting one ink against another and another. The five shades seen in the photo here are well matched—the spicy orange Apache working so well with the dusky purple from J Herbin, the Iroshizuku blue a perfect sidekick to the richness of the Diamine Majestic, and that matchless Cactus Fruit tying the knot.

No attempt here to evaluate the in-pen-on-paper qualities of the inks, too much enjoyment this first trial just splashing and dabbing, swishing and smearing with brush and Q-tip. The Iroshizuku Kon Peki is an old friend, one that has impressed for a long time with its behavior in a number of different pens and on different paper. Thanks to recommendations from Brian I’ve come to know that Diamine is a class ink, rarely failing to please in saturation, shading and depth of color. Noodler’s ink has on one or two occasions disappointed when it comes to performance, but that is by no means a write off. Several Noodler’s inks are among my regulars. J Herbin in my experience has never performed as anything but an excellent high quality ink in all the fountain pens I’ve paired it with. Why should the Poussière de Lune be any different?

I look forward to filling a few pages with each of the five inks and getting an idea of what they look like coloring words and not just splotches. The Cactus Fruit especially is calling my name.

The Lore of Wax

In some things I am not too swift. What I mean is, catching on to this or that way of doing something is on occasion slow. Even though I understand the steps or procedures, my hands or fingers won’t move as they should, and I wind up repeating the process more times than should be necessary. This time the repetition and frustration is with a new wax seal.

For a long time I’ve wanted to use a wax seal on my letters, and two weeks ago I bought the Celtic seal and sealing wax from a place in Utah, a disappointing purchase I wrote about here on August 14. Both seal and wax from that purchase have continued to be completely useless; the pewter seal bad, the Ecclesiastical Red sealing wax worse.

So, I contacted Brian at gouletpens.com and ordered a brass seal with my initial, and some J Herbin sealing wax. Two or threes days later the seal and wax arrived and with the excitement I always feel around pens, ink and other letter writing tools, I tore open the package and got to work. But something was wrong. Fifteen minutes and four wax seals later, my attempts all looked like kindergarten arts and crafts. Worse; it was all I could do to make out the initial pressed into the wax.

I sat down down at the iMac and watched several videos by Brian Goulet on how to make a good wax seal. Just to be sure, I watched the videos a second time, even took some notes. Back to my worktable and eager to knock out a few precise, well-done seals, I lined everything up exactly as Brian did and made another attempt… Failure! Total failure. Knowing how agreeable and helpful Brian is, I emailed him for help, attaching a photo of my latest mess. A short while later I got an answer that almost guaranteed improvement in my seal making efforts.

Here are some important points I learned from Brian:

1. Place your seal face down on a small ice pack during the few seconds you are melting the wax.

2. Use a butane lighter to melt the wax. I use one of those long-nosed grill lighters.

3. Once the melted wax is on the paper, waste no time applying the seal; no more than five seconds between melting the wax and impressing the seal.

4. Press down hard on the seal, no longer than three seconds.

My first attempt after reading Brian’s suggestions was an improvement, though not yet what I hoped for. That didn’t bother me because another of Brain’s comments was that it takes some practice to get the hang of. Well, I’ve practiced some (and wasted a lot of expensive wax) and things are definitely getting better. Might take a little more practice, but I’m confident it will come.

I’ve attached photos of the two best impressions (thought still feeble). The seal is in the shape of a scripted W, my first initial, and the two colors of sealing wax are forest green and silver. The third photo is of an earlier attempt where you can see the kind of mess I was making.

Wax Seals

Looking through my writing desk you will find no shortage of seals, personal, seasonal or otherwise. During my time in Japan I had at least a dozen of them made, but they are all for use with ink rather than sealing wax. I have always thought of the wax type as stylish and sort of dapper, wanting one for a long time.

The first of these seals I considered buying was one I saw on Ward Dunham’s website, Atalier Gargoyle, San Francisco. I saw two or three I liked, but the one of a lowercase Gothic alphabet in a circle especially intrigued me. Several times I started to order this wax seal, then stopped myself, thinking again of the price. A very beautiful seal, but expensive.

Recently I got something from Brian Goulet at gouletpens.com and it included a note from Brian with a wax seal in the shape of a ‘G.’ I thought about ordering one of these seals with a personal initial, then decided to look around and see what else is out there.

I found a company online that offered what looked to be interesting wax seals, all of them at a reasonable price. I chose one and placed an order. Big, big mistake. The ordering process was simple enough, and the delivery was prompt, the items well packaged, but both seal and sealing wax were a huge disappointment. Disappointment so complete I have still, after five or six attempts, been unable to get a satisfactory, or even mediocre impression from the seal and sealing wax. Both came from Capricorn’s Lair in Utah. The seal is much too shallow to leave a sharp impression, and the True Vermillion (Ecclesiastical Red) sealing wax almost useless.

The seal I chose is shown in the top photo, but the two impressions are ink. The bottom image from a cheap red ink pad, the top from an expensive Japanese ink. The seal is pewter and the design is a four-point Celtic Knot. Not personal in the sense of an initial, I still like the design and its probable meaning, which may be representative of four stages in life: birth, maturity, death and afterlife. Celtic designs however, are not easy symbols to interpret.

Whatever the meaning and whatever my feeling for the Celtic Knot is, it’s all moot, because the seal and wax are inferior. I have wasted my money. Would have done better to save my money and then later order the Ward Dunham Gothic alphabet seal, and some J Herbin sealing wax from Brian Goulet.

From Red to Red

In writing to a friend recently I chose to use a custom mixed ink from Osamu Ishimaru at Sailor, an ink first called ‘Dried Persimmon’ but later changed (by me) to 'Blood Orange.’ (The second name seemed more fitting.) Some days later, in a reply to my letter, my friend commented that the Blood Orange ink looked very much like the new Rouge Hematite 1670 ink from J Herbin. I am usually sensitive to ink colors, and quick to note similarities in different inks. I have a bottle of the Herbin 1670, have used it frequently, but still had not noticed its closeness to the older Sailor ink I call Blood Orange. Suppose it was a case of not using the two inks back to back, or maybe I just wasn’t paying attention. But I did notice the likeness of the two colors immediately upon reading my friend’s comment.

I can’t remember exactly when it was that Mr Ishimaru mixed the Blood Orange for me, but I think it was sometime in 2008 at a pen fair in Tokyo’s Maruzen Department Store. I have old journals with a good many pages in the Blood Orange ink, but it hasn’t been in my ink rotation in recent months.

A comparison might be of interest to some, so that’s what you see here. Apart from Q-tips and brushes, the two fountain pens used in the photo sample are: Sailor Naginata with a medium nib for the Herbin 1670 (left), and Lamy 2000 medium nib for the Sailor ink (right). The paper used is Vélin Blanc Clairefontaine Triomphe, 90g. The Sailor is slightly darker than the Herbin, perhaps with a dollop more black. The Herbin has a pleasing brightness that the Sailor Blood Orange lacks, but at the same time, the shading is better in the Blood Orange. Saturation appears to be in favor of the Rouge Hematite. The two inks have a similar drying time; I tested each after a ten second wait. Neither of the inks is waterproof, but if I had to write in the rain I would opt for the Blood Orange. Under water, the Herbin loses all character, all that distinguishes it from ordinary red ink, while the Sailor turns purple, though manages to hold the letter shapes.

For those who might be interested in buying the Sailor ink, you will need to give Sailor and Mr Ishimaru the following blend number: 070112059. Most likely in Mr Ishimaru’s records, the color is identified as ‘hoshi-gaki’ (Dried Persimmon).

Exacompta Journal

Back in May, when I got a bottle of J Herbin 1670 Anniversaire ink from WritersBloc, I also got one of the Exacompta Club Leatherette journals, the ones that come in nine different colors, each an unusual and eye-catching shade. In writing a review of the Herbin ink, I mentioned the journal and promised to write more about it after having the time to give it a good trial, a good testing. Not really fair to say a whole lot about a journal before having the occasion to see how it reacts to, or interacts with your pens, inks and personal style of journal keeping.

The Exacompta journal measures 5x7 inches, with 192 pages of premium Clairefontaine 64 gr paper. Many of us are already familiar with Clairefontaine paper, but let me quote from the insert that came with the journal: ‘…the best paper in the world for writing. Our paper is chlorine-free. A gift of nature, a mineral called calcium carbonate, gives Clairefontaine paper its famous qualities of extra white paper and ultra smooth…We manufacture our own paper from sustainable forests with minimal environmental impact.’ I am unable to say much about calcium carbonate and sustainable forests, but the whiteness and smoothness are unmistakeable and make an immediate impression. I chose the mandarin orange leatherette cover, but the choice was not easy with the impressive collection of colors to choose from. While Exacompta and Clairefontaine are both French, these journals are labeled ‘Made in the USA’ and interesting to me, the leatherette cover has a large sticker inside saying, ‘Made in Poland.’

I mentioned back in May that the journal is a wee bit smaller than the A5 (5.8 x 8.3 inches) size I prefer. That doesn’t seem like a big difference from the non-standard 5x7 inches of the Exacompta, but the difference is immediately noticeable to one accustomed to the larger A5 standard. Unluckily for me, the Exacompta size will weigh heavily when time comes for a refill. But I realize the size issue may not be as critical to other journal keepers, and this is the only point I can find to grumble about.

The paper is everything and more that Exacompta says about it. Looking at the bottom photo showing the open journal, some might see smeared, sloppy pages, but that’s just my style of writing in a journal—usually smeared, crossed-out, tilted, stamped and multi-colored. For those who like neater pages, the Exacompta will serve beautifully.

A product I can happily give high marks to. Check it out at WritersBloc.

Blood, Dirt & Sunlight

Received the order from writersbloc.com yesterday, the Exacompta journal and the J. Herbin Rouge Hematite. After opening the box I put ink and journal on the table to look at throughout the day. The Herbin ink is a magnificent presentation and the box is an example of smart and classy antique design, lovely to look at and admire. But the Exacompta journal has its charms as well and doesn’t hide in the ink’s shadow. The leatherette cover is a striking red orange described as mandarin. While the first day may have been for just looking, today was hands on.

They call it Rouge Hematite. The first part presents no problem, but the hematite part is a little deeper. Hematite is a mineral which can be red brown, and is important in iron. It gives the ink that rusty terracotta look, sort of like a mix of blood, red earth and sunshine, and reminds one of Cormac McCarthy’s landscape in Blood Meridian. Let me get right to it and say that the color of this new ink is a stroke of genius by the J. Herbin ink blenders. The Rouge Hematite is a knockout, and joins with pen and paper to produce near perfection.

For testing the ink I settled on a Sailor Naginata, with a 21k M nib. I rarely have any doubts about this pen and knew it would serve well with the new Herbin red. For paper, I naturally chose the Exacompta journal with its Clairefontaine paper. This was my very first experience with Clairefontaine, and I'm happy about finally trying this top quality paper. The Sailor, the Herbin and the Clairefontaine interact well together. I wanted to try the ink out over several continuous pages, so I opened the Faber-Castell journal and wrote two full pages, front and back. It was there that the Rouge Hematite showed its full potential. Beautiful shading. I didn’t really test the ink for drying time, but the impression was favorable. I’m certain this ink will become one of my regular inks, and I’d have been smart to order two bottles.

But then I’m glad I didn’t order two bottles because I would rather wait for the bottle make-over, due in June according to Quo Vadis. First of all, the sealing wax looks great, but it quickly loses its luster when it begins crumbling around the mouth of the bottle’s very small opening. And what was the thought behind choosing the cheap, easily damaged aluminum top? I was immediately reminded of the cap used by soft drink makers. As I said, the presentation is good, but once you get into the box, it’s all downhill until your pen touches the ink. Hopefully, you won’t get sealing wax in the ink, and hopefully your fountain pen is slim enough to fit down into the bottle.

Overall, my opinion echoes the wording on the box enclosure, ‘…it will bring majesty to your writing.’ Rouge Hematite is five-star ink, little doubt of that.

As for the Exacompta journal, I will wait a while before making too many comments, On the surface, I love the mandarin color, but wish the journal were a little larger. The Clairefontaine paper is good. But it wouldn’t be fair of me to say more at a time when I’ve only written one small page in the journal.

Empty Writing Desk

Haven’t posted anything about pens or ink in the past few weeks. Couple of reasons for that. For the time being I am getting by with a minimum of pens and ink, little to play with, and little to talk about. I can’t write about what I don’t have. It should be another two or three weeks before my boxes arrive from Tokyo. In spite of that I do have a desire to write again soon about what this blog really started out with—pens, ink and paper.

For the moment, the best I can do is report that I’ve ordered some ink and paper from writersbloc, taking a hint from Julie at Whatever. I meant to order some Clairefontaine Triomphe stationery, but that got lost in my hunger for journal and ink. For a long time I’ve wanted to try one of the Exacompta Club Leatherette journals. At the same time, I’ve had my eye on the J. Herbin Anniversary Ink, Rouge Hematite. I ordered both journal and ink from writersbloc and look forward to taking that Rouge Hematite for a whirl in a Pelikan fountain pen on the pages of an Exacompta journal. I’ll write about that soon.

Don’t miss the very interesting bits of information about the Rouge Hematite at Quo Vadis; two short but outstanding posts here and here.

A Subtle Green

Greeeen!

Something about a green ink that immediately grabs my eye. Perhaps because it has in its different shades the power to spin or support a variety of moods and suggestions. The lighter mixes of green are difficult to use because too often they lack body or weight enough to make the written word easy to read, but there are a number of darker, richer shades that don’t make one squint in order to see what’s written. Most of the better known ink brands have at least one or two robust shades of green, and many of them are very close to being one-of-a-kind. I always felt that Montblanc did something very special with their Racing Green, now sadly discontinued. Private Reserve has a handsome green called Sherwood Forest, though I always found it a messy ink. German master, De Atramentis first thrilled me with the Edgar Allan Poe emerald green, and later the Frederick Chopin pine green. Conway Stewart makes a delicious blend called CS Green. Newest to the fold is the marvelous series from Iroshizuku, which includes the beautiful Shin-ryoku.

But this time I want to focus on a French ink, one in the J. Herbin family of colors — Vert Empire.

In an earlier post, writing about another J. Herbin ink, the very unusual Cacao du Brésil, I compared it to the Charles Dickens ink made by De Atramentis. Now, a couple of days later I find myself going again to the same comparison in talking about the Herbin color, Vert Empire. No, I do not mean to imply that the two are close or similar, but rather that both these inks have a like quality of understatement. There is nothing bold or eye-opening about Vert Empire or the Charles Dickens, but each has its own subdued strength.

Clicking to enlarge the sample above will probably make the words legible, but to make things easier I will reproduce my comments here.

VERT EMPIRE — Sample of the J. Herbin ink, Vert Empire using a Sailor 1911 fountain pen, medium nib. The paper here is not something I can be too specific about, as it’s a page from an old blank journal, something I bought at the Museum of Modern Art on a visit to New York several years ago. From the look of this page, the pen, ink and paper behave well together. Ink flow is good; no feathering; shading is good also, and there’s no bleed through. (smeared words) Let’s look at drying time and smearing with this sentence. Yeah, it’s a wet, slow to dry ink, more so than its Herbin brother ink, Cacao du Brésil.

I give this ink a high rating and suspect I might even grow to like it more in time.