Calligraphy Pen

My affection for all things old-timey and magical is no secret. Beneath this female exterior beats the heart of an eighty year old British professor-adventurer who may or may not be a wizard. So imagine my pleasure upon finding at work, treasure of treasures, a calligraphy set. I have spent long moments in art stores, stationary shops, and curio holes looking at fancy sets, eyeing the price tags, wondering how I could justify the purchase, asking myself what I'd even do with something so frivolous. Lucky me. 

In looks, pens are modern, ugly, plastic things, nothing like I would imagine finding in a 16th century baron's study. But their tips, not angle-tipped felt markers, but glorious metal nibs. These are fountain pens, real liquid ink flowing out from cartridges, so that you have to keep the cap on, keep the pen upright lest you come back to desk and find it covered in black. 

Three different pens, three different widths, things written with them are somehow more magical than regular pens.

Excited with my find, I squirrelled it home, selected the fine tipped pen, and loaded it with the blackest ink in the set. In the box was a notepad of thick paper with which to practice. I put my new pen to the page, and here is what came out. 

Like I said, magical.