Spilling Ink
In honour of World Handwriting Day
Sometimes I get a bit obsessed with things. The same idea or concept will keep bubbling up over and over in different ways and places, and it will just burrow into my mind.
This week’s obsession is the word ‘ink’. It kind of snuck up on me.
First I saw the word ‘ink’ in a few poems I read. Then I saw the business name Divine Ink. And of course there is Vintage Ink, a favourite local winemaker.
Writing in the dark of a winter morning
I thought about the colour of ink – that deep indigo has always been a favourite. And I remembered how much I enjoy my old fountain pens, and playing around with lettering, and trying out ink in different colours.
During a recent writing retreat I began handwriting on my iPad using my Apple pen. And I was able to create my favourite shade of dark purple to be my signature digital ink colour. Just the right depth and opacity. I ‘write’ in it all the time now.
Did you know that you can handwrite in the dark, or by candlelight, on your iPad? Did you know that some of your best ideas might flow out of your pen before you are even fully awake? At least that is the way it works for me.
I’ve fully embraced pre-dawn writing, enjoying the dark of winter mornings, since I began handwriting on my iPad.
A dream of ink
I recently read A Single Rose by Muriel Barbery and I found this line, referring to beautiful ink lettering on a banner in Kyoto, Japan:
Everyday is a new dream of ink.
Isn’t that gorgeous!
I could feel this line when I read it.
I could feel the ink flowing out through my pen;
a ribbon of words, my heart strings on a page.
Poetry is ink
On Monday, the SoulCircle writing prompt was POETRY. Beth Kempton asked us to answer the questions What is poetry? What is a poem?
I have to say that my response really only applies to me. It is not a technical definition. My poetry or concept of poetry likely doesn’t even really qualify. For me, poetry is a way, a place, an idea. Here is what I wrote:
Poetry, for me, is choosing to let the restrictions fall away.
To let the words tumble, to write from the soul.
To place words on the page even before I understand their meaning.
To let words, and thoughts, and ideas cohabit without planning or consideration.
To play with forms.
To allow the essence of what resides in me be manifested in ink, on the page, without censure. **
Spilled Ink
Fresh ink on the page
My soul, without fear, spilling
True blue from my pen **
Ink is handwritten
This morning as I read Anne Bogel’s Links I Love email she recommended Maria Konnikova’s post The power of the (literally) written word, making the case for handwriting over typing. As someone who is turning back towards handwriting, after decades and decades of typing absolutely everything, I’m in full agreement. There is just something magical about allowing my thoughts to flow directly, via ink of exactly the perfect colour.
World Handwriting Day
On Friday, January 23, as I write this, I discover that today is World Handwriting Day. That seemed pretty appropriate as the spark to actually write some of my ‘ink’ thoughts down.
Although, I do have to confess:
I typed this piece, entitled Spilling Ink, on my computer.
JL Orr
The Travel Paradox and Jumble of Sea Glass
** portions that were originally handwritten
