When Less is More is More Than Less : fiftyfootshadows.net

When Less is More is More Than Less : fiftyfootshadows.net

This is all well and good and I enjoy reading through different ideas and opinions but at what point is enough enough. When does minimalism start to become cluttered and excessive in itself.

You are simply not allowed to read any of the rest of this site until you read the link above. Go. Now. See you back here in a few minutes…

Are you back now? Good. Now, stop dinking around on the Internet! Go get something done. Make something. Anything. 

I could show you a pizza and beer joint with better tips, tricks, and lifehacks than anything you can read online, carved into the 150 year old wooden booths, written long before the Internet was a thing. Do you know how they got that way? Well, every day it fills up with people. Some of these people have something to say, especially after a pint or two. Then, they use whatever sharp object at their disposal to say it as quickly and clearly as possible on any available semi-soft surface.

So, why am I here doing this? 

Hmmm… Fair question…

This is my booth at the pizza joint. I come here all the time with something to say. My Mac is nothing more than a overpriced pocket knife for me to scrawl stuff into it. And if I did not have that I would find a way. Because I have something to say. It’s what I do.

Find that thing that you do and do it. If it is, in fact, what you do, no tool will make you and no tool will stop you.

Fear & Faith

The solution to conquering fear is increasing trust. There is a structural tension between the two.

Outfitted with the same equipment and halfway up a high cliff, the experienced rock climber is in as much danger of falling as one with a fear of heights. Theoretically, they should be equally afraid of falling. When we look down we all see from the same perspective. Yet the climber simply looks ahead for the next step higher while the acrophobe can’t shake the possibility of dying. The difference is their level of trust in the rope, the harness, the belay, and, most importantly, themselves.

I watch my daughter balance on the two inch wide arm of a chair. I watch her traverse a three inch wide retaining wall. All without assistance and perfect balance. Put her on a five inch wide balance beam at circus class and she hesitates and reaches out to the teacher for assistance. I ask her why this is and she says, “The other kids make it wobbly”. She trusts the equipment. She trusts the teachers. She trusts herself. She does not trust the other kids.

We all have obstacles we would like to overcome. To do so we must increase our trust. Focus not on fear but on faith.

The Perdice Bradford (An Ode)

Most people just don’t get it. What is the appeal of a nice pen? Why a fountain pen? I mean, let’s be straight here, there are a lot of reasons a cheap stick pen, mistakenly pocketed from from your local bank branch, would be considered superior over just about any fountain pen. You don’t have to fill them (which often gets ink on the hands thus staining them for a day or three). They write, reliably and with no bleed through, on just about any type of paper. You don’t have to worry about losing it or loaning it to one in need. If it runs out of ink or breaks, it is practically free to replace.

Yes, all of this is true. But, will that cheap pen ever become imbibed with your character? Will you form a bond with it that is unique to you? Will you know it’s quirks as well as it knows yours? Will it, because of these things, remain with you for a length of time and to the extent that if ever parted from your grasp it will feel as if losing a limb? Will the nib shape to your style? Will your grasp shape to the barrel? Will such a pen ever become a part of you?

These are the things that drive my passion for beautiful pens. Most specifically, fountain pens. The relationship between a writer, the tool, the ink, the page, and the words, demand intimacy. Connection. Extension. I need to know the nib, the ink, the paper and, perhaps more importantly, it needs to know me. It needs to know my hand such that it slowly becomes it. It needs to know my preferences such that it expects them. It needs to know my quirks such that it accommodates them. In my experience, The more care and quality that goes into the production of such an instrument, the more the pen will give to these things.

The Perdice Bradford is such a pen. It is a hand crafted limited edition and stems from a collaboration between the heads of the Pear Tree Pen Company and the Edison Pen Company.

Perdice Bradford Limited Edition Fountain Pen

The barrel is made from an extraordinarily scarce acrylic seen before only in the Sheaffer Balance II. The model provided to me for review is an intense and rich tortoise shell bursting with hints of sunlight gold. The nib, made of 18K Gold, is nothing short of a work of artistry. It is one of the smoothest I have ever experienced fresh out of the box. It can be ordered in a choice of fine, medium or broad-tip (I tried the fine, which was perfect lovely). In addition, custom ground extra fine or italic nibs can be special ordered for slightly more.

For my testing purposes, I used Pelikan 4001 black ink. Not the most interesting choice but one that I knew would provide me a consistent flow for ease of comparison to other pens I’ve tried or own. The pen certainly took well to it and laid down a consistent line that, due to a very slight flex in the nib, was not devoid of personality. Exactly what one would want from a pen of such quality and something that would grow with the writer over time.

Every single detail of this pen reveals the caliber of the craft, both that of the maker and that of the writer. The price, starting at $325.00, is reasonable considering this fact. This is a pen that, with the proper care, will outlast you and give your descendants, should they chose to use it, as many hours of writing pleasure as it provided you.

The only drawback in the experience is that I must send this one back. It is number seven out of a total of ten that will be made. My only hope is that it will be appreciated as much by the buyer as it has been by me during my time with it. Perhaps, that buyer will read this review one day and drop me a card written with this fine pen. Thus, binding us in greeting and familiarity as only a good pen can.