Eating my Hats: Diamine Early Dusk and Leonardo Andromeda

One of the ways I grow as a person is by making plenty of room for mistakes, and the admitting of them. That’s why I keep several hats handy. I found that eating hats is liberatory.

A hat, an ink, and a pen.

There are many advantages to adopting the spirit of the scientific method in all kinds of situations - that is, experimenting without the pressure of a pre-defined outcome. In this process, mistakes are important. Mistakes pave a road for deep learning, but only if you are not afraid to learn from them. And plenty of things scare me.

I remember, a few years ago, fountain pen lovers across social media challenged each other to finish ink bottles by limiting the number of inks used for the year, let’s say five or ten. I saw some people succeed, and show off their beautiful empty bottles. Others started the challenge, but then just… stopped talking about it. I assumed they moved on from the challenge, but I wanted to know more. What made these experimenters say, “Ok, enough of this challenge” and ink a pen with Ink #6? Was it a beautiful new ink that could not wait another year? Was it something missing from the use case? Instead of thinking “these people failed the challenge,” I see a learning process which was never reported. “I stopped the five-ink challenge because I figured out that I need six different colors for my use case, and I work best when I have a new ink to try every couple of months” hits a different note than “What’s wrong with me that I can’t even finish a bottle of Kon-Peki?”

I’ve used both my Kon-Peki and my Red Fox, but both bottles are far away from being empty. That’s not a bad thing. It’s all value-neutral.

In June 2021, I did a one pen, one ink challenge inspired by Inky Rocks. For the whole month, I used a Montblanc 146 I bought second-hand, inked with Montblanc Red Fox. When choosing the pen, I selected what I considered my best pen at that time, which was also neutral-looking, and my favorite ink at the time. I completed the challenge just fine. I was not tempted to ink more pens, or to switch to a different ink (you might remember that I am the person who used a single Pilot Falcon and Pilot Black ink for over a decade - so this was familiar territory). At the end of the challenge, I put both the Montblanc 146 and Red Fox away. I was feeling burned out by these particular tools. I’ve been burned out before by the Pilot-Pilot combination, and imposing the limit on myself again did not make me happier or more productive.

While I entered the challenge loving the 146, I sold it a few months after completing the challenge. In my mind, this became a remake of the Falcon situation. I do not miss the pen. As for the ink, I love Red Fox, but after that experiment it took me almost a year to ink it again. I did ink it again in early 2022, and I remember being shocked by how much I still loved it. My brain had delegated Red Fox to the burnout corner. So while I nominally succeeded in the challenge (I have plenty of willpower), ultimately the limitation itself was a mistake for me. I need variety to get the most out of my stationery habit.

This is why I do not challenge myself to finish ink bottles. I am not using ink to finish bottles, I am using ink because I love it.

Diamine Early Dusk

Here’s a mistake I made in late December 2023: when evaluating the Purple Inkvent inks from Diamine, I immediately put Early Dusk into the no pile. I thought it would be boring, and not a fit with my use case. After sampling the ink, I wrote:

Early Dusk. It is a standard ink, maybe not the most exciting offering here, but it's actually nice. If you like more gentle blues with a hint of blurple, this should appeal. I just don’t know if I will ever ink it, there are many inks I like more. Verdict: MAYBE.

I wrote down a number of inks I wanted to put into pens right away, among them Tranquility, Rainbow’s End, Lavender Frost, Blizzard, and Sugar Snap, all shimmering inks I felt would fit the season well. I tried Tranquility and did not especially like it in a pen; next I inked Rainbow’s End and fell in love. As I was exploring Rainbow’s End, I found myself pulling the little bottle of Early Dusk from the drawer. I put it on the desk. I kept thinking about the color. I swatched it again. I swatched it on different papers. Would it be too pale to use? I had no idea. My fascination with the ink intrigued me - I wanted to know what snagged me. Was it my initial rejection, my pre-conceived notions about the ink? I am a warm-tone person - the inks I love tend to be saturated and warm. The pens I love tend to be warm-toned as well, or black. My internal statements about what I love and what I would and would not like became identity statements. And that, in turn, became limiting.

Rainbow’s End is not a super warm hue either, and I was loving it. Perhaps it was time for Early Dusk. A time for the cooler blues and purples.

I ended up inking Early Dusk in two pens - the PenBBS 456 with #4 Calligraphy nib I have on loan from Robert (thank you, Robert!), and my Aurora Optima Viola with a stub nib. The PenBBS is the opposite of what I usually gravitate to. I am not that fond of demonstrators, and this one with the rhodium trim is definitely not warm-toned. The calligraphy nib is intriguing, but I am still learning how to use it. I’m very much enjoying this loan.

Ink-uiring minds want to know.

The combination of Early Dusk and the calligraphy #4 nib is magical. It is a wet pairing, allowing Early Dusk to pool and create a saturated color with a bit of haloing. The ink did not fare quite as well in my beloved Aurora Optima with a stub nib. It’s a drier combination - it shows off excellent shading, but it’s also paler than I like. In both pens, the color is exquisite. It’s not as simple as it initially appears - it’s more complex, with more variation of hue; it is tender. It’s an early January ink, and it rhymes with the crispness of midwinter, the chill, the big open sky tilting towards the night. The glint of snow on the windowsill. From afar, a cry of a bird.

This wasn’t a no, or even a maybe. Hat: eaten.

Leonardo Momento Zero Andromeda

I do not pressure myself to adhere my own stationery intentions and challenges - I’m the adult of my own adulthood. I am responsible for my budget, and for the earnings that shape my budget; I don’t feel deprived and I don’t particularly like the feeling that comes from overindulging. The guardrails I make in the beginning of the year are grounded in my understanding of my life, and provide me with tools for mindfulness. That makes me happy.

Why was it all necessary to say? Well, because I wrote “Maintain a low buy until Fall 2024” and “Spend time with my collection before expanding or reducing,” and within the first few days of the year I bought a pen, sold another pen, received the pen I ordered, decided not to keep it, prepared to list it for sale, and sold it. I’ve contemplated the purchase of two other pens.

I loved the Leonardo Momento Zero Andromeda and Via Lattea models when they went on sale during Black Friday at Stilo e Stile. At that time I was in the process of finalizing the purchase of my Aurora Internazionale (the pen had a long waiting time), and on the spur of the moment I decided to add the Leo to my order. The website crashed and I was also cooking a feast, so it was not to be. As I closed the window, I thanked the pen deities for not letting me complete the purchase. I did not need another Momento Zero. I did not need a MZ especially to arrive together with my holy grail the Aurora Internazionale. I knew it wouldn’t work. And yet, as I saw pen friend after pen friend unbox and use their Andromedas, the spirit of FOMO got the better of me. A few pens restocked in early January, and I placed an order.

Leonardo Stilo e Stile Andromeda

I received the Andromeda promptly from the ever-excellent Stilo e Stile. It’s a gorgeous, gorgeous pen, evocative of a galaxy. It is a well-made, solid pen. The quality is great. It also does not move me, and I feel that it does not add to the gathering. I am not sorry I tried it - certainly helped with the FOMO - but it would be a shame for me to hoard such a beautiful pen when I am not in love with it. It’s now on the way to a new home!

In my 2024 stationery intentions post, I wrote “I am giving myself plenty of room to experiment and to fail.”

Well, that’s two hats eaten by January 10. Onwards!