Pens

A pen is a very visceral thing.

An extension of the body that allows one to translate one’s thoughts from mere wisps in the mind to concrete, tangible information, pens serve a very important purpose in our society.  This purpose has not been at all diminished by the advent of technology; I argue it has, in fact, increased its importance.  I use my own pen fairly frequently; whether that’s signing paperwork, writing notes, poetry, song, short stories, or even novels, more often than not, I revert to good old-fashioned pen and paper.

I have always prided myself on having a pen at the ready, which is why I’ve been a bit lost the last day or two – the red Cross Morph I have had since my undergraduate years has disappeared, and no amount of searching has revealed its whereabouts.  Admittedly, the Morph is not the creme de la creme of pens, not by a long shot, but as my everyday pen, it has worked wonders, and obviously, I grew quite attached to it.

So of course, I’m ordering a new one, but since so many years have passed since I initially got my first Morph, I figured a color change was in order – I’ve ordered a new Electric Blue Cross Morph via eBay.

It is my personal belief, however backwards it may seem, that the pen reflects the person – someone who has a pen readily available shows that they are prepared for the unexpected moment where the need for a writing instrument might arise.  If the pen is properly selected, it also says something about who that person is.  My father, for instance, is something of a pen collector and has several quite beautiful fountain pens; I have always found him to be quite eloquent, as suggested by the style of a fountain pen, though of course, the relationship between eloquence and fountain pens is tenuous at best.

I have one fountain pen, but have never found myself able to adapt to the way fountain pens interact with the paper.  Whether this is due to lack of patience or some other factor, I do not know.  I always tend towards ballpoints, and I would like to believe that my everyday workhorse Cross Morph pen reflects something of who I am.  I would prefer that it be the side of me that is always, to some extent, prepared, or perhaps my wordsmith nature.  At the least, though, having a pen on me gives me a feeling of some self confidence, which, I believe, is sufficient reason to harp upon the subject.