Friday, January 17, 2014


The practice of matching ink to pen colour is, I'm thankful to say, widespread. I'm thankful because I seem to be a slave to it, and misery loves company... As far as I'm aware there is no scientific term for it, and my classical education is not so much lacking as fossilised in the ruins of Herculaneum, but you might come over with an affectation and perhaps call it something like chromascriptophilia. Except we won't; we'll not call it the name to suggest affliction, but rather one to conjure up science - chromascriptology - because science causes fewer people to feel uncomfortable. At least when they're talking about it; actual science causes no end of discomfort and scientists may be some of the most dangerous people not yet locked up...

Anyway, let the following be a lesson to the budding chromascriptologist; there's danger in them thar' ink bottles. Viz:

The last ink, I should warn you, is represented two ways upon the face of the interweb. In one case it is a mild-mannered, almost retiring pale pink. In others it's a more vibrant colour with subtle tones of red and orange. A pink, in short, you would not be entirely ashamed to be seen with. I took a punt and hoped the truth of the ink was in the latter representations. O, fateful day.

This pink - and in the spirit of protecting my fellow man and woman, I shall name and shame it as Diamine Cerise - is no more or less than a bottle of pink highlighter ink. Which is just dandy if you want a bottle of pink highlighter ink; I, alas, have had a (gifted) pink highlighter these twenty years and still have four fifths of the ink remaining, so... no, not terribly dandy.

Worse, this ink is so damn pink as to make even me, the least "girly" person you can imagine, lapse into drawing small hearts over lower case Is and Js in lieu of sensible dots. I can't help myself; it just happens. It's appalling. I fear lengthy exposure to this fiendish pigment can only result in long term speculation on the nature of rainbows, unicorns and whether the stars are, in point of fact, God's daisy chain.

Lessons to be learnt? Oh, so many. But the main one is probably not to take up chromascriptology...


  1. I've never been much of a fan of it ... chromascriptology or Diamine Cerise.
    You could try mixing it.
    Do you find your penology inspiring any more woodology? It does for me ... pen cases and boxes, ink stands, pen rests, nib holders, writing slopes ... .??

    1. Great minds, Claire - I'd already thrown some Syrah in as a sacrifice and made Cerise at least, well, useable. But it seems so unfair to the Syrah... And yup, lots of inspiration, but still lack the workshopable time to do anything about it :(

  2. Well Alf, I must have chromascriptology as well - most of my fountain pens are black (exciting!) and mostly I use black ink (boring I know, but it does make it easier to read my notes).

    It was possible to bring two of my hobbies together - woodworking and collecting fountain pens (all users) here:

    When are we going to see something like this from you?

    Best wishes from Perth


    1. Oh, Derek, you have deeply disappointed me. I thought at the very least you ran a spreadsheet or something so you could keep track of which fora and blogs you'd already spammed with any given link. You've already done this one to me, mate; I replied before, not least that I'd made one about twenty years ago. Keep up! Tsk...


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