Obsession with Stationery

Some people love their car, their plasma telly or their watch. My personal fetish is stationery.

A nicely balanced pen and a blank pile of white paper is bliss. Without a decent pen I seem to be unable to write anything cogent.

My cell is littered with old notepads, notebooks, and stacks of Post-Its. I have six journals and three diaries. Much of this would be familiar to any research student but I have to confess that I'd like this stuff even if there was little to write in them. Stationery supply catalogues only marginally lose out to porn as my reading preference.

My pen supply is currently unusually sparse. At the peak of my acquisitiveness, some generous soul bought me a Parker Duofold Platinum fountain pen and ballpoint set. When you unleash such expensive tools then you feel the weight of expectation to write profound thoughts. I will die a happy man should I ever possess a Yard O Led Grand Viceroy pen (penshop.co.uk.... ha ha).

At present I'm using a standard Parker ballpoint. You would think this would be unproblematic. But of course - refills are a necessity and they can't be bought through our prison shop.

Despite the petty difficulties, there is something significant about sitting, pen in hand, with a blank sheet of paper. This is quite different from sitting in front of a blank computer screen. With pen and paper there seems to be a world of possibilities, and an impression that what is written may actually matter. With a PC, the delete key renders everything temporary and thoughtless.

But what is written on a blank paper page could alter the course of human history. Or organise next week’s shopping.