Greetings from Bali, Indonesia. It took us 2:45 hrs to fly here from Singapore.
After getting some lunch in Penestanan, the town where our rental villa is located, we sauntered over to Ubud to check it out. Definitely more touristy over there, whereas Penestanan has more of a remote village feel to it.
Unlike our typical vacation style of go, go, go, we’re enjoying just hanging out in the relative luxury of our villa, which has its own pool. In the evening it’s quiet, except for a frog that was trying to find itself a mate, and the crickets that are probably doing the same.
Us city-dwellers often forget what peace and tranquility really sound like–when you don’t hear any traffic, or people, or other signs of civilization. Nothing but the steady whirring of our ceiling fans, and odd noises from critters outside in the yard.
It’s times like these when my thoughts always turn to giving up the urban lifestyle, and moving to a place like Penestanan, for a simpler life. Maybe if I did, I would eventually yearn for the bustle of the city, but I sure would like to give it a try.
Originally published on tumblr, around March 2013.
So I recently thought about roasting my own coffee beans. I’ve always been a big fan of cooking from scratch, so naturally the idea of roasting my own beans appeals to me, and I don’t know why I didn’t think about doing it earlier. Up until now, I have been content to buy my roasted beans from one of the local small coffee chains, but it was always a pain to have to drive downtown to get them, and if I ran out in the middle of the week, then my mornings were just not the same. Coffee drinkers will understand what I’m talking about.
There are several ways to do it, from the old-school method of roasting them on a frying pan, to fancy-dancy shiny European-made devices that cost way more than I care to pay. Now while I didn’t try the frying pan method, I did opt for a the hot-air method, one which uses a hot air popcorn popper.
The popper model my trusty wife came home with for me is a Nostalgia brand unit. I’m not sure where she found it, but a quick search of the internet showed that other people were using the model with some success.
The basic idea is exceedingly simple: Put green coffee beans into the bottom of the popper, turn it on, and after about 5-8 minutes, your beans are roasted. Let them hang out for 4-24 hrs to allow some CO2 to escape, then grind and brew, or store in sealed containers.
The economics of home roasting aren’t that important to me, but the fact that I can get fresher beans AND save money is naturally appealing. The popper cost $30, and a 1 lb bag of green beans from a local coffee place costs on average $7.00 (they do vary from about $6-$9 per lb, depending on origin). A bag of Stumptown costs $16, but every 11th one is free, so that comes out to $14.55 a lb. I’m saving roughly $7 /lb, so after 5 lbs, the popper will have paid for itself.
It’s a small-batch process, but it’s fun, and you can experiment with different roast strengths. I’m enjoying the fact that my beans are now roasted only the night before.
As I started doing more calligraphy and playing with pens and ink, I found that the original Bienfang pad I bought wasn’t meeting my standards. I’ve tried several different papers now, so I’m going to give them a short review here.
The following is a list of the four papers I’ll discuss:
Canson Pro Layout. Exceptionally smooth and no ink feathering, but fairly transparent and slow drying. Works well with different inks.
Bienfang Calligraphic Parchment:
This was the first pad I bought when I started with my first Parallel Pen. It’s made in Canada (yay, my home country). The single pad contains paper of 4 different colors—canary, cream, pink, and light blue—which is nice for seeing how your ink looks with different backgrounds.
The paper surface has a fine texture to it, and isn’t as smooth as the Canson or Bee Paper pads. It’s not an issue so much with the Parallel Pen, but dip pen users who like fine pointed nibs should beware.
Included with the pad are several different spacing guides, in heavier stock, which I found really helpful. There are three guide sheets, for fine, medium, and broad nibs, and they are printed on both sides, so you can practice straight vertical lettering on one side, and italics on the other.
I noticed fairly pronounced feathering with Parallel Pen ink, which is probably a more free-flowing ink similar to fountain pen ink. With sumi and dip-pen ink (which I’ve now started experimenting with), which is thicker, it was less of a problem.
I haven’t been using this paper much lately, but will keep it around for its different colors, and making notes with dip-pens.
Bee Paper Calligraphic Practice Pad:
I bought this paper hoping for something better than the Bienfang. It’s made in the USA (locally, in my current city of Beaverton, Oregon, actually!)
Although it says it is 98 gsm (grams per square meter), the sheets feel thinner and lighter than the 74gsm Bienfang paper. The whole paper weight system is a bit confusing anyway, and I don’t think all manufacturers are playing by the same rules, even though the gsm unit of measure is very straightforward.
The surface finish is very smooth on both sides, and the color is bright white. I was hoping that the smoothness was an indicator that it was sized, and therefore less prone to feathering with thin inks. This proved to partly be the case, as feathering with Parallel Pen ink was less on this paper than the Bienfang. Each sheet is quite thin, so writing on both sides is not really practical.
The pad comes with several spacing and lettering guides, which are always helpful to have around. I noticed that the sheets do tear out quite easily, which I personally find annoying, as I like to keep my practice sheets intact for future reference, or just to thumb through to see my learning progression.
Rhodia Reverse Book:
After some research I found a near cult-like following of this notebook, which is spiral bound and made in France. I picked one up at the local Blick to form my own impressions.
The first thing you notice is the orange cover (also available in black, but that seemed boring) and the spiral binding. The metal spiral is well made so that it doesn’t constantly unwind itself from the pages, as some spiral notebooks have a tendency to do. As an engineer, I like these details.
The paper itself is smoothly finished, and has a 5mm square grid on both sides, in a light and unobtrusive violet color. Some reports on the Net say that the grid lines are fuzzy, smeared, or not well printed, but my sample looks crisp. The sheets have very fine perforations near the spiral binding, so pages can be torn out with a clean edge, and are thick enough that writing on both sides, even with the wide 3.8mm Parallel Pen, is possible.
My test with Parallel Pen ink resulted in no noticeable feathering at a normal viewing distance of about 12”. You really have to look up close to see slight, but unobtrusive feathering. Based on this I would think that dip pen inks would hold up very well. I have to say I like this notebook a lot. It’s a nice balance of size and portability and when I travel I’ll be taking this with me.
Canson Pro Layout Marker:
This is my latest acquisition, and it’s pretty nice stuff. I would probably appreciate it even more if I were an artist working in pens and markers. I can’t tell if it’s made in France or the USA, as it lists both countries as place of manufacture.
The paper is bright white, and quite transparent so it would be great for tracing. It is sized, so it has an exceptionally smooth finish, and my Parallel Pen ink does not feather on it at all. I’ve also tried Yasutomo Sumi ink, Winsor & Newton Calligraphy Ink, and Sennelier metallic gold inks on it and don’t see any feathering. Inks do take a long time to dry on this paper though, so left-handers beware! Also, the transparency means that writing on both sides is not really practical as you can see the other side.
One interesting thing I noted about the Canson was that after the ink dried, you could see the areas where it pooled up. If you look at the image above, you can see what I mean. This generally doesn’t pose much of a problem, but when viewed from certain angles this can be a bit annoying.
Calligraphy first entered my consciousness over seven years ago, right before Angie and I got married, because she has a friend who is a calligrapher. She told me about his fascination with pens and nibs, and while that didn’t mean anything to me at the time, his elegant and beautiful writing in our wedding guestbook certainly made an impact on me.
Probably a year and half ago I decided to try it for myself. I read good things about Pilot Parallel Pens on some calligraphy blogs, so I bought a 1.5mm pen, some practice paper, and played around on and off, learning Uncials and Italics and some simple fonts.
More recently, I purchased another two Parallel Pens (2.4mm and 3.8mm) and realized that I probably should have bought them earlier. It was much easier to practice since I could form better serifs and the extra tip width helped me to see the formation of each letter much better.
As my writing improved and I got better, I started to notice a few things:
My original pad of “Calligraphy” practice paper causes the ink to feather like no one’s business.
Parallel Pen ink cartridges don’t last very long, especially for the wider 3.8mm pen which naturally flows more ink per stroke.
The quest was on to find better paper, and I also became interested in refilling my Parallel Pen cartridges with ink. I’m going to reserve those topics for separate blog posts, but needless to say, I’ve been bitten by the writing bug.