Take Pen to Paper and Write - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

Take Pen to Paper and Write - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

I fell in love with fountain pens when Miss Casey taught us penmanship in the third grade. My penmanship was just promising . . . letters too small, did not slant enough, and hugged the bottom line, never quite reaching the one above.

“You should slant your letters a bit more, Edward, and make them reach higher.” Miss Casey loved Sandra’s writing. I watched as Sandra concentrated with her tongue peeking out of the corner of her mouth, her arm resting on the desk to help her letters point upward then swoop to the bottom as she barely bent her wrist. Her letters were angled with the same slope, tipping just enough to look like a young tree, never straight up, never leaning too far.

Our pens required repeated dipping into wells nestled into our desks, and it made a mess with ink everywhere — on papers, desks, hands, shirts, and pants. I cherished an Eversharp pen which my dad gave me. It had a reservoir that needed only one dip for a fill. Alongside the body of the pen was a thin metal lever that, when pulled out, compressed a bladder in the pen and when released, resulted in a sucking hiss. When the hiss stopped, the pen was full.

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As the years went by, though I’m not sure why, I stopped using a fountain pen until one evening when I was watching an old movie. In the scene, someone writing on gleaming white paper with a quill, blue-black ink, and using two hands; fingers steadying the paper in the upper left; the writing hand caressing the pen as if it were a baby bird. Miss Casey would have given this writer an “A” for the thick, tall, looping letters, and smooth strokes.

It returned me to my days of penmanship, ink and fountain pens. I thought, “This is what we should be doing rather than e-mail. We should be writing to people on paper with pen and ink. Even broken penmanship can be as smooth as soft summer waves that carry the thought.”

So, now that’s what I try to do: send a handwritten note. I use an antique blue-black ink that gurgles when I fill my pens. I hold the paper and the pen like that person in the movie, wait a moment, bend my wrist, and then try to sweep the strokes. I pause at intervals to bring the pen to my nose to smell the ink, being careful not to touch it.

And this leads to my advice. Take pen to paper, and nose, to write. Take time to write to friends and loved ones. Thoughts transferred in writing come from the heart.

So why do I start my day at the computer looking at my e-mails? Necessity, I guess. But it is no longer my only means of communicating. I spend time each day with my fountain pen on paper.

Dad gave me his Eversharp. Miss Casey gave me the directions. They started my lifelong love affair with pens, ink, paper and writing. Smell the ink.