There’s a moment in every pen-making session where everything slows down. The lathe is spinning, the brass rod is being turned down to fractions of a millimetre, and there’s nothing else on my mind except the task at hand.
The Art of Going Slow
In a world of mass production and instant gratification, there’s something almost radical about making things by hand. Each pen that leaves my workshop has spent hours—sometimes days—in the making. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
When I’m working on a new nib, I’ll spend several hours just shaping and polishing. The difference between a good nib and a great one often comes down to fractions of a millimetre in the breather hole, or the exact angle of the tipping material.
Materials Matter
One of the things I love most about this craft is the relationship between maker and material. Whether it’s a chunk of ebonite from Japan or a rod of premium resin, each material has its own personality.
Resin, for instance, is forgiving. It machines cleanly, polishes up beautifully, and is relatively forgiving of small mistakes. Ebonite, on the other hand, is temperamental. It requires patience—work it too fast and it will tear, heat it too much and it loses its lustre. But when you get it right, nothing else compares.
The Waiting Game
If there’s one thing that defines pen making, it’s waiting. Waiting for glue to cure. Waiting for lacquer to dry. Waiting for the right humidity before finishing.
I’ve learned that you can’t rush excellence. A pen that I spent three weeks finishing will give someone joy for decades. That’s worth every moment of patience.
Thanks for reading. More thoughts to follow as they come.