I have had a fascination with tools my entire life. Now, when I say tools, I’m referring to tools of various sorts. Hammers, axes, wrenches, and so on, are tools of course. There are other tools, though, that you use on a regular basis that would never strike you as “tools.” The pen or pencil you use to write notes, sign documents, or make quick calculations? Those are tools. The mouse and keyboard you use to interface with your computer? Those are tools. Your toothbrush is a tool. Your fly swatter is a tool.
I found myself drawn to pens and pencils at a young age. I loved watching the tip of the pen travel across the page. I loved the sound of the tip gently scratching the paper. The feedback from the friction was beyond satisfying. In school, I would put my head down on my desk, so my eyes were close to the page I was writing on, and I would watch letters and numbers spill out onto what was once a blank page.
Because I enjoyed the act of writing I would find any excuse to write. I started journaling so I had an excuse to write. How often do you write things? When you write things, how long are they? It seems as though most people don’t have much to write by hand, what they do write tends to be brief. If you’re itching to write, but have nothing to write about or a reason to get writing, journaling is a fantastic solution. I needed to write because I needed to see it happen, and I needed to feel it. I didn’t need to feel it in some greater-sense-of-purpose, self-actualization kind of way. I mean I literally needed to physically feel the paper beneath the tip of the pen as lines and curves of ink came spilling out. I had no content that needed to get out into the world, I just had a tool that I needed to use.
Naturally, once I started doing all this writing, I realized how much I preferred one pen over another. I had my favorites, other ones that I did not enjoy as much, and some that I refused to use. As a kid my options were limited. I had to use what was available to me. Once I was old enough to have a job and my own income, I started collecting them. I would seek out all the pens and pencils I had always wanted to try, and put them to the test. I journaled my heart out, all in the name of having a reason to write and use the tools I loved so much. I started testing different inks for quality. I started disassembling and reassembling pens. I kept notes about the strengths and weaknesses of specific brands and ink formulations.
As time went on, I began to use computers more and more for work and school. By the time I reached my senior year of college, I realized that I loved typing papers. I hated homework, but I loved the sound of a keyboard’s keys clicking and clacking away under my fingertips. Just like watching graphite and ink take shape on the page, I loved the physical and auditory feedback from keyboards. At this point, I had only been using membrane keyboards, though. This year I purchased my first mechanical keyboard, and instantly fell in love with this new tool. I needed a reason to type.
I brainstormed about where I would get my typing fix, but nothing came to mind. It wasn’t until I decided to type out my messages in lieu of making videos that I realized I could accomplish my goal of sharing my insights with others while pounding away on the keys of my fancy new keyboard. Now all I can think about is what to type next.
Lance Out Loud 