Sounds like the name of some pub . . . but in reality, this is a macro with my Nikon Z 50mm macro lens. 
Anyone who does post production with photo editing software knows about pre-sets. I have a lot I have made over time and it can be a lot of fun to manipulate a picture. The original of this was in color, so I converted it to black and white and then used a high-key preset I have made. I like the way it has softened the feather but retains enough detail to let you know what things are.
On an aside, I need to cut some new quills and brew some new ink. I am using fountain pens right now to write, but do like the tactility of a quill pen! However, my fountain pens are a lot of fun, too, and with different pens and inks, the variety is equally pleasant . . .
Handwriting has gone the way of the dodo, and cursive even more so. When I was teaching, it really surprised me to find students who were barely able to hold a pen or pencil, much less form readable printing or cursive. Apparently kids are forbidden to use cursive in hand-written work these days because they just can’t do it neatly. And while I disliked practicing handwriting, today I will say that I am so appreciative of the fact that it was part of my public school curriculum on a daily basis for grades 1-8. Today? Well, keyboarding is taught, and learning to touch type in high school has really paid off, but I still turn to pen and ink and paper, and on a daily basis I prefer quills I have cut myself, and iron gall ink I make as well.
Here in the US, National Handwriting Day has apparently been a thing since 1977. Choosing January 23 is because the first person to sign the Declaration of Independence was John Hancock, whose signature is famous for its beauty. The expression of “put your John Hancock here” or anything similar is a way of saying “sign on the dotted line.”
Times change and we need to adapt, but there are times when I think modern technology and the wonders of the computer age mean we lose what we use to have. In a way, the book Fahrenheit 451 makes a point for preserving older technologies, and having people memorize whole novels is much like the oral traditions of countries where not everyone could write. Working together, old and new can preserve our history – and what we consider to be a daily thing (i.e. writing a letter on paper!) can vanish. Digital archives preserve such knowledge, but to acquire this knowledge again means actual, physical experience.
If you look at my little blurb in the photo, you can see my handwriting is okay, but I don’t always make my letters correctly and have to backtrack over them. When I was in school, if I had to turn in a handwritten essay, such mistakes would bring down my grade. And if I made them – well, I just started over.
So, cheers to National Handwriting Day. Reading cursive and handwriting is important and the best way to learn is to be taught at an early age. Apparently students not taught handwriting and cursive lose out on far more than just an ability to pick up a pen or pencil and communicate on paper.
Come to think of it, do kids even pass notes in class? Or do they text and hope they don’t get busted for using a phone in class?
“I am afraid you do not like your pen. Let me mend it for you. I mend pens remarkably well.”
“Thank you – but I always mend my own.”
Austen is discussing the quill pen in particular – a pen made from the feather of a bird, usually a goose, and cut with a pen knife. The ink is most likely iron gall ink, made at home or sold in penny jars. Pre-cut quill pens could also be bought, perhaps well made or not, but certainly could be customized to one’s own liking. It is from this particular section of Pride & Prejudice that I decided I could “mend my pen” to my liking as it got worn with use.
First, let us consider what writing with a quill pen entails. It means getting a feather, preferably a long feather from a goose’s wing, a first or second pinion about 14-16 inches long. From there, the feather is aged before cutting – reportedly a year – or cured with heat, or “clarified” after soaking overnight in water that might have alum added to it. Then it is trimmed with all feathery parts are removed. The end of the feather that attached to the bird is the part which becomes the nib. It’s a complex process to learn, but easy enough once you get your mind around the steps and shape you need. As always, practice makes perfect – but even an imperfectly cut quill pen can write quite well. I speak from experience.
To cut a quill, you need to soak it in water and then heat treat it to “clarify” it – making it hard enough to handle the cutting process. This video shows you this step:
YouTube, of course, has a number of videos about it. Some are good and some are absolutely ridiculous. Here is a good one – he has already clarified his feather:
And this is basically what you do all over again when you “mend your pen”!
Why mend? Why re-trim and shape a feather quill pen? For one thing, quill pens are like anything – some you really like! I have one that fits perfectly in my hand and is a daily writer. Others are not as comfortable, some quills are narrower in diameter and less comfortable; wider in diameter and uncomfortable for lack of familiarity. All can write beautifully and I, the user, simply adapt to each one. However, quills do become a bit messy if used regularly and a good mending can refresh them. As well, quill pens require rotation – the nib becomes soggy from the ink, and need to dry out. My inkwell from the early 1800s has 4 holes in it, to hold 4 pens, so I can cycle through them (not that I do!).
When I choose to mend a pen, I follow a protocol that seems to work for me. Here are the steps.
Test the pen by using it. What is the problem?
Soggy pen? Too wide? I usually begin by re-cutting the very end of the pen off to create a new writing surface. Test the pen. Problem solved? Go no further.
If the pen is still not writing with a clarity of your liking, sometimes you just need to shave off a bit of the top and bottom of the nib as done in the video. This can help sharpen a nib. Test again.
After the above trimming, you may want to make your nib a bit more narrow, so shape the sides of the pen. I do this a little at a time, carefully, and test the pen until it is to my liking.
Does the pen fail to carry ink beyond a few words? It could be the slit in the pen nib needs to be re-cut. When this occurs, I usually have trimmed the nib using the above steps before re-cutting the slit. The slit is important for ink flow; without it your ink can blob out all at once and that is not a nice thing to have on your paper!
Is your pen, after trimming, writing rough? If so, I find that 3M 2000 grit wet sand paper helps. Write on the sand paper, practicing the marks you make when using cursive.
The tools I use for making and mending my pens are a few. They include
Toenail trimmer
Quill knife – a pen knife as seen in the 2nd video
Xacto knife
Self-healing mat
3M 2000 grit sand paper
Small tool to clean out inside of quill
Here is a good video about tools used to cut a quill, as well as cutting the quill itself:
You don’t need all these things – the differences of quill cutting varies, as you can see, from the above videos.
So, today I mended about 7 pens and cut 5 more, two of which were failures. I threw an old quill pen out as it was done in, and my mending attempts only made it worse. I saved my favorite pen and fixed a bunch and made some new ones. Not a bad few hours spent in the sunny patio! I now have 11 usable quills for my daily jottings.
And a close up of the nibs – some are quite inky!
Hope this helps you realize that your old feather quill pen can still be used with a bit of TLC! If they did it in the Regency period, you can still do it in the 21st century.
For the past year I have been keeping a journal – something I have done since I was 10 (I shred them, too!) – writing exclusively with goose / duck / turkey quill pens and iron gall ink, all made by myself.
Real quill pens don’t have all the feathery parts on them. They are removed when the quill is made. Not very pretty, but far more functional. All that fluffy stuff gets in the way when you write!
Why do this? I like the act of writing. Just paper and ink and my thoughts or lists or complaints or observations. In this time period, just the daily usage of ink and quill has shown me and taught me a lot of things, things which are perhaps lost through time and the changes in technology. The fact is, too, I like to make things that I can use, and a quill pen and iron gall ink are proving to be two favorites.
Quills gave way from common usage in the 1830s when the metal nib came into easy manufacture and availability. Why not? Easier than cutting your own quill. Iron gall ink is easy to make if you have iron galls (though any plant material with tannin in it also works), and other ingredients available. It just takes time. Interestingly, powdered iron gall inks were available to the public, and apparently in common usage during the Revolutionary War by soldiers and others on the move. The powder was in packets, and all you did was sprinkle some ink on a surface, add water or wine or beer, and with your handy quill and a bit of paper, off you wrote.
Today’s treatise is about the Yncke itself. I’ve made multiple batches and have found out a few things that may have been common knowledge back when it was the only ink commonly available.
Observations
Iron gall ink is best used in small amounts, such as in an inkwell with a lid. The ink evaporates and particulate matter settles out with time. By keeping your ink in a sealed container – I use a mason jar with a lid – you keep it relatively fresh. It won’t evaporate although settling of the materials occurs.
Here are my quills, ink well with porcelain insert, and saucer to catch spills. Notice the stains on my desk! I can usually remove them with some bathroom scrub that has bleach, rinsing thoroughly after scrubbing. Let the cleaner sit for a few minutes to let the bleach work, and use a bit of gentle elbow grease. This is a plastic-topped work station I have had for 25 years, and it has held up very well!
I use a pewter inkwell, reputedly from the early 1800s, with a porcelain well. I keep it on a saucer as spills from iron gall ink stain anything easily. The porcelain is easily cleaned up. I replenish my ink every two or three days – a lot gets used up! Watching it disappear is rather fun.
When I replenish my ink, my choice of adding more ink or thinning it is really my first question. Experience has shown that through evaporation the ink becomes thicker and thus does not easily flow from the pen. I add water in a small amount, but after having read that one should use vinegar or spoilt wine or beer to keep the ink’s color strong, I have tried both. My experience is too limited at this point to make a more definitive statement that either works fine.
How do I know when I need to dilute my ink? I know when I can no longer write a long line of words with a single dip of the quill. The ink begins to blob up and becomes more viscous. If I find I can only write a word or two before the ink is very pale, I know that the first problem is the ink, not the quill. Then, I add a bit of water or vinegar or wine or beer, just a bit, and try writing again. If the flow improves, you are fine. I use a plastic pipette with a squeeze bulb because I can control the addition of liquid more easily than just pouring it into the well.
Here you will see the ink in a 1 cup canning jar with separate screw top and lid. The pipette is made of plastic and has a squeeze bulb on top. This allows for tidy delivery of either ink or thinning liquid – here, old red wine in a custard cup.
In using iron gall ink, I used to keep it in bottles with screw-on lids. Specifically, I used old fountain pen ink bottles. However, this ink is like a glue in some ways because the lids eventually stick to the bottle and become difficult to unscrew. Flying ink is not fun when you finally get that lid off! I store mine in 1 cup canning jars, the kinds with separate screw tops and lids, such as used in making jam or jelly. When I need more, if the lid is sticky, I can usually pry it off with a knife – slowly and gently! And I do it in the kitchen sink or with paper towels beneath the jar to catch any spillage. Clean any spills up immediately!!
Iron gall ink can spoil. I have had batches which developed a scummy surface on it, but it doesn’t seem to affect the quality of the ink. I just shake it up and mix it in. This seems to have occurred when I used water in making the ink. This last batch I made with some old wine, and the scum did not appear. I will say, too, that I like the smell of wine when I use fresh ink! It’s a nice addition.
Making it, as I said, takes time. There a numerous recipes on the internet. You can find my own commentaries on the ink by using the search feature. The recipe I use so far is as follows, and have been pleased with it, especially when I have made it with wine:
Receipt for Iron Gall / Oak Gall Ink
Oak galls:Â 80 g.
Distilled water / stale wine or beer / vinegar:Â 300 g.
Ferrous Sulfate (I used ferrous sulfate heptahydrate):Â 50 g.
Gum Arabic:Â 25 g.
Crush oak galls into small pieces or grind into powder using a spice or coffee mill. Place into jar and cover with 300 ml. of distilled water. Place in sunny window 3-7 days (depending on your life and schedule). I plan to do 3 as per the recipe from the Schoenberg Institute. After 3 days, there should be a dark murky liquid in the jar.
On Day 3, add 50 g. of Ferrous Sulfate to oak gall mixture; replace in sunny windows for another day. On Day 4 add the Gum Arabic and leave for another day. On Day 5, strain the liquid into a clean vessel and voila, ink!
My Check List For Using and Maintaining Iron Gall Ink
Take the time to make iron gall ink. I think a week or two is best. Anticipate when you will need a new batch.
Store unused ink in a closed container, such as a canning jar.
Use a small amount of ink at a time as it easily evaporates and settles out.
If your ink is thick, before adding more ink to your well, dilute first with small amounts of water, vinegar, stale wine or beer. Test with your quill. A pipette works well to transfer fresh ink or dilution liquid.
Paper towels are excellent as blotting paper. I use toweling to blot a page before I turn it over, and I turn it over onto another sheet of toweling. Sadly, we no longer have blotters as daily items on our desks.
Rinse your quill when done, and blot it dry. Have at least 3-4 quills available to use as they need to dry out between uses.
So, that is it for this posting. Hopefully it is of some use to those who would like to use iron gall ink and quills on a more regular basis. If you are just beginning to use these items, be patient and kind to yourself. Learning to write with a quill pen is not easy, and learning how to replenish the ink on your pen has its own quirks. We are used to pens where re-inking is not normal, but with both quills and metallic dip pen nibs, there is a pattern and rhythm to getting the right amount of ink on your pen. Once you master it – and it shouldn’t take long – you might find yourself quite happy with your new skills!
I am rather enjoying sketching as part of my morning routine. Today’s sketch is still in Independence, California. There is a trail that connects the native plant garden to a small park, Dehy Park, and I think I took this picture along the pathway. I found the repeated curved rhythm of the trees to be utterly charming – I expect the wind has a lot to do with the way the trees are bent.
Anyway, I decided to not use my Micron pens, as I have for the past three days, but to use a quill I cut myself from a turkey or goose feather and my homemade iron gall ink. First, I sketched the grove.
A Few Trees – Iron Gall Ink & Quill Pen
Then, I let the ink dry – or thought I did! – before adding the watercolor. Areas of ink were still wet. One of the drawbacks of iron gall ink is that it does take a bit of time to dry. The wet ink messed up some of the paints by blending in with the colors, muddying them.
Once I noticed that I decided to use dots and such with the watercolor, especially for the foliage toward the top of the trees. I dabbed the paint on, in between the black, inky branches.
I mixed colors with a water brush, stronger than the paler colors I have been using, and just applied them. The effect wasn’t too bad. In between the leaves I used blue, again, tapping the paint in, avoiding the dark of the ink.
After the paint dried, I went through a second time with the iron gall ink, both with the quill and then a defunct water brush. I think it helped out, but overall, the sketch is still quite messy, and certainly not what I intended. What I do like is the sense of dappled sunlight in the leafy canopy.
A Few Trees – Iron Gall Ink, Quill Pen, Watercolor
Takeaway points: First, the ink needs to dry before applying the watercolor paint. My quill has a wider tip on it than your standard dip pen, and thus makes bold lines. However, a bit more care could create a better combination of lines, and perhaps render the sketch more interesting. Adding brushwork and stronger lines after the first ink and paint applications helped to strengthen some areas. After I did that, I went about the morning chores while the sketchbook dried outdoors in the morning sun. I had to wait an hour at least – and then, the scan of the final sketch!
Ink, Yarn & Beer 