Since May 28, I have been using black ink exclusively and although I’ve written in the neatly boxed format of Villard de Honnecourt on very nice Kunst & Papier A4 pages, and although the content is the usual nonsense of which I am such a capable producer, everything looks like the early phase of a physical rehabilitation project for someone who went through a windshield recently.  I don’t know what it is.  I cycled through four pens — two with sharp edges and two with completely smooth round nibs.  Ink-wise, I used Sailor Kiwa Guro and Platinum Carbon Black.  Great inks, really.  But everything came out looking really junk.  Maybe it’s just perceptual or psychological.  Well, that’s spooky.

Anyway, I haven’t chosen what I will be using today, but it won’t be anything with black ink in it.  I will mourn the passing of black with something not black.