The Pigeon and the Pencil: J. Herbin Inks

Pencils at my desk.

Every now and then on the blog, there will be a feature called 'The Pigeon and the Pencil,' my ode to the everyday item. I call it 'The Pigeon and the Pencil' for a few reasons: I love pigeons and I love pencils, and I believe that these seemingly dull and often maligned objects are due for some much-needed appreciation.  These posts will be about recognizing the beauty in humble, everyday items.

Did you know that a pigeon is actually a dove?  Pigeons are Rock Doves, and both pigeons and doves belong to the Columbidae family. The pigeon is a beauty queen disguised as Cinderella. Pigeon parents both produce milk to feed their young.  Pigeons mate for life.  One famous pigeon, Cher Ami, was awarded the French Croix de Guerre for her work as a homing pigeon, carrying messages during World War I. Cher Ami served in World War I by dispatching messages from a wounded and depleted battalion stuck behind enemy lines.  She was shot at, lost at leg, yet managed to carry a message around her wounded leg to help save the lives of over 190 soldiers.

Pencils may not have saved lives but they were considered a staple in the kit of any Civil War soldier.  Pencils are reliable and inexpensive. The pencil is an ordinary tool, incredibly useful, no matter now stubby and tooth-marked. If you were to measure the distance a pencil could write, it would measure 35 miles, or approximately 45, 000 words.  Everyone uses pencils, from schoolchildren to architects, artists, and composers.  Can you imagine people writing pieces of music with ballpoint pens instead?  I recently read a great interview in the Wall Street Journal with Count Anton Wolfgang von Faber-Castell, the head of the venerable pencil company. Faber-Castell was founded in 1761 by cabinetmaker Kaspar Faber. When journalist Cynthia Kling asked Count von Faber-Castell to say something about the pencil, he summed it up this way: " When you are young, you put a pencil in a drawer. Then when you get to be very, very old, 100, and you want to give something of yours to your great, great grandchild, you pull that pencil out and it still writes. Can a pen do that?"  He is right.  That gorgeous fountain pen probably will no longer write, the insides caked with dried-out ink.   

I cannot choose between the pencil and pen because I appreciate them both for how different they are. This month's "The Pigeon and the Pencil" entry is about ink cartridges, the kind used in fountain pens. I have used every kind of ink cartridge over the years, from Parker to Sheaffer to Lamy. My favorite ink cartridges are made by French ink maker, J. Herbin, who have been producing inks since 1670.   J. Herbin is the oldest ink maker in the world.  The company even makes scented ink as well as invisible ink! The inks I like best are the ones made for fountain pens.  You can purchase the ink in bottles or in cartridges, as I prefer, because by the time I finish a cartridge in one color, I am ready to try a new shade. There are six cartridges in each small metal canister, with the name and the color of the ink on the lid.  The names of the inks are poetic: there is no navy, but instead "Bleu Nuit" (Midnight Blue). Not pink, but "Rose Cyclamene" (Cyclamen Pink)  or "Rose Pensee" (Pensive Pink).  What about "Larme de Cassis," (Tears of Blackcurrant) or "Diabolo Menthe" (Peppermint Soda), named for a popular French drink for all ages made of mint syrup and soda water?  You would be hard-pressed to pick only one shade.  Read the website for extensive, evocative descriptions for each of the colors.   I think the range of greens is especially beautiful.  You may not be someone who writes letters anymore but using colored ink in your pen is a great way to liven up your daily scribblings, doodles, or notes.  The J. Herbin cartridges are considered universal, standard-sized and will fit most fountain pens. I get my cartridges here ($5.50 for six). 

Pigeons, pencils, and ink. All items which are more complicated and have more depth than you would imagine.   Dave Brubeck's "Unsquare Dance" also has hidden depths: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_yExwkQYcp0  It sounds simple at first, using only piano, bass, snare drum, hands clapping and fingers snapping, but the song's breezy informality belies how complicated a piece it actually is. In an unscripted ending, you can hear the musician's laughter at the end of the track, when Brubeck includes the famous riff, "Shave and a Haircut, Two Bits."  The more you listen to it, the more the piece reveals; "Unsquare Dance" is set in 7/4 time, which is an amazingly complex time signature.  This piece sounds as fresh today as it did in 1951, something you can return to again and again. Maybe now you will give your own much-used and under-appreciated pencil a second glance, and you might be kinder to the next pigeon you see on the street.