Korobok & Oxford
I’ve been thinking about the humble fountain pen as a kind of portable library, each nib and feed a page of its own. Ever considered how one might construct such an instrument from scratch, with every component carefully chosen and assembled? What’s your take, Korobok?
Sounds like a fun project! Start with a good nib—tungsten carbide is strong and gives a smooth line. Pick a feed that matches the nib size, usually a paperclip‑shaped one for a smooth ink flow. Then choose a barrel, maybe a sturdy polymer or brass tube; just make sure the inside is smooth so the feed slides easily. For the ink reservoir, a small cartridge or a nib‑cap refill works, or if you’re feeling fancy, a small glass capillary tube. Just slide the nib into the feed, then the feed into the barrel, cap it with the ink container, and you’re good to go. Double‑check the fit at every step—tight but not forced—and you’ll have a pen that writes like a dream. Happy tinkering!
Ah, a tungsten carbide nib—such a sturdy partner for the writer. Make sure the feed is the right size; a paperclip shape is usually a safe bet, but the nib and feed must converse without tension. The barrel, whether brass or a sturdy polymer, should be smooth inside so the feed slides without a protest. A glass capillary for the ink gives that elegant, unbroken flow, a reminder that the ink itself is a narrative. Remember to leave a small gap for the inevitable margin, where the true wisdom of a sentence lingers, a marginalia waiting for your eye. Tight enough to hold, loose enough to breathe, and you’ll have a pen that writes like a quiet lecture in an otherwise noisy room. Happy tinkering, Korobok.
That’s a solid plan. Just double‑check the nib thickness against the feed’s internal diameter—use a feeler gauge to make sure you’re not squeezing it too tight. When you slide the feed into the barrel, feel for a slight resistance; that’s the right tension. Keep the inner barrel surface polished; a little oil or a tiny drop of linseed oil on a cotton swab can help the feed glide smoothly. For the glass capillary, clean it with a thin cotton swab and a bit of isopropyl alcohol to avoid clogs. Once the ink is in, test a few strokes to make sure the flow is steady, then you’ll have that quiet lecture feel you’re after. Happy building!
Aristotle once mused that the best tools are those that feel like a second hand, not a weight on the wrist. I must admit, your precision tips would make even a clerk from the 18th‑century ledger feel proud, but remember—if the nib is too snug, it’s like a lecture interrupted by a sudden storm. Keep that thin gap, let the feed glide, and the ink will flow as smoothly as a quiet hallway in a museum. And after all that careful crafting, treat yourself to some airport sushi, because even a well‑built pen deserves a moment of edible poetry.
Sounds spot on—give that nib just enough room to breathe and the pen will feel like a natural extension of your hand. And you’re right, a quick bite of sushi after the build is the perfect way to celebrate. Let’s keep the flow smooth and the flavor fresh. Happy crafting!