Ode to a good Pen

My black and silver Parker ballpoint pen, hiding from the unscrutinizing writer with its pacifying curvature, simple lines and basic colors, is nonetheless a thing of beauty. Unapologetic in its utility, it also expresses its own sort of architectural confidence, even arrogance.

Mightier than the sword

This pen was tucked in the sleeve of my backpack, at the ready in the pocket of my jeans, or resting in the pages of a notebook the entire time I traveled through South East Asia, assisting me as I circled landmarks and planned convoluted routes on coffee stained Lonely Planet guides or wrote down my thoughts on a long train ride through Vietnamese mountains.

The silver Sheaffer pen is a new acquisition and, while very nice, does not spin quite as well in my hand.

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