Learning to live with the boredom cycle
The boredom cycle is a central figure in my day-to-day. Riding the highs of exciting new purchases and the mundane lows of “the usual suspects” is a necessary priority for keeping me enjoying my writing and teaching.
Rising feelings of boredom with my writing options is an early sign that I’m approaching unhealthy headspace. It’s then, bored with the usual inks and pens, that I grow unmotivated to even sit down and begin my work.
But — and this is a very positive “but” — the boredom cycle is also my path out of the ADD woods wherein I start projects and can’t orient myself so as to finish them. Restarting the cycle encourages me to sit down and tinker with a fun new inky combination. Huz. Zah.
Like the water cycle but with ink … and nerdier, question mark
I begin with novelty. New pens and new inks draw me to my desk. So too with new combinations of those. I want to hold and uncap exciting new writers. I want to scribble and jot notes and write longform drafts with inks that bring a smile to my face. And so I seek out opportunities to write.
The very new grow into fast favorites as I first use them. I find new aspects of a pen that I enjoy. Every time I sit down and write yields the pleasure of unique shading or line variation or writing feel. Pleasure that makes me want to start grading the latest tower of papers.
Fast favorites grow into trusty favorites after weeks in my rotation. The tried and true. Frequent, repeated use highlights quirks about a pen’s construction — or about an ink’s performance.
Such old favorites become the usual. The same positive quirks and the same quirks and irk me. The usual leaves me feeling bored over time. I know what to expect from my tools. The surprise ages out. C’est la vie.
And a bored scholar is a scholar who struggles to write, read and teach. I then venture off into the wilds of fountain pens to find a shiny, new pen or ink or nib or paper to rekindle my excitement.
The boredom cycle is a never-ending rotation of new favorites into old favorites — and back again.
The overarching goal of adventuring through analog stationery is to interrupt my boredom cycle. Stumbling into a new ink, or a new pen, or a new nib grind may do the trick. Rediscovering a pen or nib or ink from within my existing collection will do, as well. No purchase necessary, as late-night commercials are wont to say.
The boredom cycle constitutes my writing life. A carousel that maintains my mental health alongside responsible productivity. The cycle that spins me into my writing and jettisons me out of my writing in turns.
Insert Elton John song here.
This week’s Inked Tines update includes last week’s currently inked writing tools.
Toolset
Pens. The Nahvalur Nautilus in Primary Macchiato is a standout this week. The Mini Cutlass grind accentuates my small writing in ways that jettison me back to the novelty stage of my boredom cycle. An arcitect-ish grind that works for precise letterforms within a 3.7 mm grid? This pairing lived in my hand throughout the week. Task management, meeting notes, reading notes, lesson plans, curriculum planning and D&D planning. All of the things. Down to 1/3 full.
Karas Kustoms Decograph (EF) — 1/4. The narrowest pen in last week’s currently inked. Ume Murasaki’s unsaturated burgundy lent a seriousness to my manuscript edits, paper markings, and drafting notes. The wide EF nib balanced keeping small, precise letters readable with forgiving odd writing angles while I engaged in process writing. See-saw of burgundy justice.
Nahvalur Nautilus Caldera Sea (BBG) — 1/3. Double-duty as a progress tracking pair in addition to a longform journaling combo. The wide section keeps the Nautilus comfortable in my hand over long writing sessions. And the BBG grind gives me fine and broad lines for diverse notetaking. Nice.
Pelikan m805 (F CSI) — 1/2. Minimal accent work for this pair. It writes consistently well. Simply reached for other pairings last week.
Able Snail Classic (B) — 2/3. Arrokoth grew into a mid-toned brown over the course of the week. The true-to-size B nib ensured adequate contrast against Oyster Grey to keep this pair in accent work. I also used the combo for tracking D&D notes as the pen’s silent capping and uncapping offered me a suitable fidget toy.
Nakaya Neostandard (M Naginata-togi) — 3/4. The Nakaya’s feed is kind to Pluto and Beyond — which throws off excellent shading between dark green and yellow-grass green. I carried this pair into six separate meetings as a result. A hall of fame pairing.
Notebooks. Work bujo. Odyssey Neptune 400 (A5). Last week produced a mountain of writing. Fourteen pages of task lists, lesson plans, meeting notes, pacing guides, and research scheduling notes. The kinds of writing that leave me feeling accomplished. Hip-hooray.
Copious notetaking structures my thinking throughout the cavalcade of meetings and curriculum planning that absorbed my daytime hours. Six of the week’s fourteen pages are replete with scribbled notes and accented tasks for migration into my weekly task list.
And I tagged the Nautili to drive my curriculum planning pages. The Primary Macchiato, as my daily driver, for paper titles and student names. The Caldera Sea layed down bright blue to mark my progress as I built out the spring’s learning arcs.
Collaboration station
Journal. Endless Recorder in Mountain Snow (A5). Journaling was a rarity last week. I sat at my desk twice in seven days.
The first entry was a brainstorm. The Nakaya and I pulled together a list of tasks that need to happen while my new car purchase closes. Pilot and Beyond’s strongly-shading green seemed a fitting choice for plotting next steps with my car.
The Nakaya’s moderately wet M Naginata-togi nib managed the rapid-fire jottings throughout my brainstorming session with class.
My second entry was a raucous bout of creative writing. J.J. Lax’s precise grinding work highlights the dark and light sides of Yoseka’s ceramic blue. Intermittent pops of bright red sheen spot my writing with whimsy. Ribbony line variation and a bright, energetic blue ink kept my creative juices flowing for two pages.
Two pages resulting in a new storyline thread for the D&D campaign I run with a group of six friends. A new kind of enemy. A new scary kind of enemy. An enemy with deep sea tentacles.
A nautical pen for a nautical storyline
Written dry. All six pens survived the week capable of continued scribbling.
Shine on you shiny writers
Newly inked. Oh snap. I resisted the urge to ink an additional pen for a second week in a row. I’ve earned brownies.
The collection
Incoming / new orders. I felt no need to acquire another pen or ink so soon after the Philly Pen Show. The boredom cycle is satisfactorily sated. For now.
Outgoing / trades or sales. I reviewed my pen collection and pulled sdlndlsknads pens that I previously marked as candidates for sale. Each is photographed and prepared with a box. So long, dear friends.
And thanks for all the fish …
I also identified Diamine Inkvent inks for re-homing. I don’t yet have a plan for how I’ll go about re-homing these tiny wanderers. Possiblities to journal through next week.
Currently reading and listening
Fiction. My literary path extended another 48 pages last week. All of my reading took place while winding down in the evenings. Engaging characters as I gradually desensitize and mentally level out.
Chapter 37 sees Robert Jordan and Brandon Sanderson pulling the various story threads together. The pace of events is increasing. And Rand’s ensemble of friends and allies is again coming into their own as interesting characters in their own rights.
Engagement that requires minimal active thinking. Perfect end-of-day storytelling.
Nonfiction. I lost track of Mounk’s intriguing didhehejskkd after Monday night. The absence of nonfiction reading at home surprises me. A benefit of reflecting in my reading and writing habits each week is that omissions like this
I moved the book physically to the dining table to make an organic reminder that I can also read Mounk’s take on democracy in the evenings. Obvious.
Music. Khruangbin consistently featured in my headphones, my computer speakers and on the family TV throughout last week.
They’re a fun blend of mellow R&B beats with wild, complicated guitar work. All delivered with an understated energy that happily sits in the back of my mind while I read and write and even prepare dinner. I dig music that lends thoughtful energy to my writing space. And Khruangbin deliver.
If you like their performance below, I strongly encourage you to visit their two-album collaboration with Leon Bridges. Texas Sun and Texas Moon both have recurring spots in my productivity playlist.
