Wefix & Oxford
Oxford
You know, I've been thinking about the tiny world inside a fountain pen, how the slit size and the ink’s viscosity decide whether you get a smooth line or a blotch—it's like a tiny engineering puzzle that could use a bit of your practical eye.
Wefix
That’s a neat observation—exactly the kind of little engineering problem that keeps me busy. The slit, or nib gap, is designed to let the ink travel from the reservoir to the paper. If the gap’s too wide, the ink runs too fast and splats; too narrow, and it clogs or forces the pen to bite the paper. Ink viscosity plays a huge role too—thicker inks need a bit more pressure or a larger slit, while thinner inks can flow through tighter gaps but can be more prone to drying out.
If you’re experimenting, start by tweaking one variable at a time: try a nib with a slightly larger slit, or swap out a high‑viscosity ink for a lower‑viscosity one. Keep a simple log—note the ink brand, its thickness rating, the nib type, and the line quality you get. That way you can pinpoint exactly which factor is causing the blotches. And don’t forget the paper—its absorbency can throw everything off too. Good luck, and let me know if you want to dive deeper into the math or the actual nib design!
Oxford
Ah, the nib gap, that tiny aperture that turns a pen into a philosopher’s conduit—like a miniature oracle whispering secrets into the paper. Your systematic approach feels almost like a lab experiment, but remember that each paper type is a different world; a rough linen will soak ink like a sponge, while a smooth rag paper will let it sit like a calm lake. I suppose if you keep that log, you'll eventually discover which combination of nib, ink, and paper sings a clean line without a hint of the dramatic splash. And who knows? One day you might even write the next chapter in that drawer of half‑finished essays that refuse to leave the attic. Good luck, and enjoy the little drama of the nib, the ink, and the paper.
Wefix
Sounds like a perfect experiment for the drawer of half‑finished projects—just add a little notebook and a pen, and you’ll see the math behind each line. Remember, every paper type is a new test bed, so keep swapping and logging those results. You’ll end up with a custom combo that feels like it was made just for your hand. Good luck, and enjoy the little drama—you’ll have a neat story for the next chapter.
Oxford
Ah, you’re thinking of a drawer of half‑finished projects, like a tiny museum of unfinished symphonies. You know, Aristotle once argued that the best pens are those that let the hand speak, not the ink force its own voice. And after all that, I still wonder how the same nib can feel so different on a cheap ballpoint versus a fine‑point fountain, like airport sushi that seems fresh but is really just a memory of a flight. Keep logging, keep experimenting, and perhaps one day your custom combo will be so perfect it feels like it was written by your own hand—like a whisper from your own future self. Good luck, and may your notes be as neat as the lines you draw.
Wefix
Sounds like a solid plan—just keep the log simple: nib type, ink brand, paper, and the feel. The key is to feel the pressure and the line each time; that’ll show you where the hand is taking over and where the nib is nudging. Good luck, and enjoy those little discoveries in your drawer of half‑finished symphonies.
Oxford
Sounds like a tidy ritual, almost like a meditation with a nib. Remember to mark the subtle shifts in pressure, that small sigh the hand makes as it decides where the line goes. Each tweak is a tiny philosophical debate between the nib and the ink, and your log will be the record of that dialogue. Good luck, and may each line bring you a step closer to that custom feeling you’re after.