Events

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Handwriting in Cultural History


penmanship book coverThe cover on this penmanship book from the late 1800s is as ornate as the instructions contained inside it. Note the upper right hand corner -- it specifies that this version is intended for boys, indicating that boys learned a different handwriting style from the one girls were taught.

Handwriting in America: A Cultural History isn't a new book by any means. Published in hardback in 1996, it's been around for a bit; you can get it in paperback or at used-book stores. But it's one of those books that has stayed in my mind as interesting, enlightening, informative, and just plain fun.
book coverHandwriting in America: A Cultural History is a fascinating look at how penmanship reached the state it’s in today.
If you read this book (which reads much like and may be a thesis, with numerous quotes from a huge range of sources), prepare to have just about everything you ever believed about handwriting turned upside down.
In the foreword, author Tamara Plakins Thornton shows us the seeds of the intellectual journey that resulted in this book: "Foremost among (my attitudes) toward handwriting was my secret conviction that good penmanship does not matter, that if anything it denotes a person who is fearful or incapable of being in any way unusual. Of course, what lies behind that conviction is the belief that handwriting in some way reflects personality, most especially those qualities that differentiate one person from everyone else. Faithful imitation of penmanship models -- what teachers would call good handwriting -- thereby signals conformity and ordinariness, while breaking all the penmanship rules, even to the point of illegibility, is a mark of individuality."
hand tiedThe ribbon around this hand is actually a penmanship tool, intended to train muscles to the proper position and range of motion. As the person wrote, the ribbons would tug when he/she reached the outer limits of "proper" and literally rein the hand in.
Thornton's attitude, typical of mid- to late-20th Century attitudes toward handwriting, was probably picked up in school, where she says she had little to no emphasis on handwriting. By the late 1960s, penmanship as a discipline had descended to such low status that schools had begun to eliminate it, a process that by the 1980s was woefully complete. Thornton became interested in the subject’s cultural heritage when, as an adult, she saw an 18th Century advertisement that advocated the adoption of particular handwriting styles appropriate to a person’s gender, social status, and occupation. Adopt a handwriting style? One appropriate to your station?!?
This is what hooked me on the book. I’d assumed that penmanship had always been taught the way it was taught me by a martinet named Mrs. Pairsh, who had wholeheartedly adopted the most militaristic of A. N. Palmer's methods, ordering us to start practice by issuing commands: "Pens. Position. Circles." When class was over, at lunchtime, she ordered us: "Turn. Stand. Face forward. March." (She did, however, get results.)
penmanship drillsIf enthusiasm lightens labor, as this penmanship student wrote some 25 times on this page alone, one hopes he had some enthusiasm for the job. Even at a 6th or so grade level, his writing is much more disciplined than ours is today.

It intrigued me to learn that handwriting instruction has gone through phases, fads, up- and downturns in popularity -- all the things that reading, math,and science have endured.
The first few chapters of Handwriting in America proved the most interesting to me, and the first two chapters most interesting of all. Called "The Lost World of Colonial Handwriting," the first chapter explains how a particular writing style was, far from being considered an expression of individuality, actually selected and adopted -- learned, cultivated, and practiced.
Clerks learned one writing style; engrossers another; aristocratic ladies still another, and gentlemen something different yet again. These styles were instantly recognizable to everyone who mattered, so that merely by looking at something a person had written, his/her social status, educational level, and relative importance in society were immediately known. It was a useful system for a class-based society, a society that was facing increasing depersonalization in communications brought on by the rise of the printing press. That society would have been aghast at the idea that merchants’ and gentry’s words should be given the equal weight that the printing press, with its uniform text, gave them.
Reading and writing were not taught at the same time, and sometimes writing wasn’t taught at all. Not everyone was thought to need to know how to write, and the ability to read wasn’t considered dependent on writing. Especially in America, reading was considered essential because it gave individuals personal access to Scripture. On far-flung frontiers without clergy, spiritual development was often self driven.
exercisesThe intricate exercises on this page (of which this is only a sample -- it includes many others!) show some of the movements students practiced interminably to gain proficiency in the strokes used to make letters.

But writing? Inessential. A good eye with a hunting rifle, the ability to judge planting times, good weaving skills, yes; but not writing. Writing was at best a commercial skill. For women, it held the same importance as needlework or dancing, while illegible writing on the part of gentlemen was considered proof that they were above crass commercialism. These attitudes also served as a powerful social control.
Suppose you were a lowly clerk with the proper mercantile "hand" for your station. Suppose you had some rather radical political or social ideas and the audacity to write an inflammatory pamphlet. You’d most likely have it published scribally, meaning it would be reproduced by hand by someone who, as I understand it, would reproduce it using a style appropriate for your station in life. Anyone among the upper classes (or other classes, for that matter) would know by the handwriting style with which the piece was written that you were only a clerk and that your words and thoughts should carry no weight.
As Thornton sums up, "The appropriate degree of authority granted to the handwritten word, to literacy in the largest sense, was inscribed into the very words themselves, guaranteeing that literacy would carry neither socially promiscuous meanings nor culturally disruptive uses."
definitionsNotice the detailed definitions of very basic terms -- slant, a straight line, a curved line. This penmanship book differentiates ad infinitum between right-hand and left-hand curves.

Big changes came during the Victorian era, particularly in teaching methodologies, that eventually came to identify handwriting development with character development. The Victorians conceptualized the development of a disciplined, ordered handwriting as evincing the internalization of the discipline, integrity, resourcefulness, and other characteristics they felt essential to a strong, upright character.
In men, a "muscular" handwriting was admired. Women ("ladies," anyway), mirroring their supposedly passive role in society, were expected to exhibit frivolous, overly ornate hands that took inordinate amounts of time to pen properly -- thus demonstrating that they had nothing of importance to occupy their time.
In typical Victorian fashion, they complicated the process to such an extent that they’d write literally pages of instructions on how a person was to sit, pages more on pen position, and still more pages on paper position. I have engravings of a skateboard-like tool with a hole in its front end, on which a student’s forearm rested while he practiced penmanship (the pen went through the hole to touch the paper and the skateboard was supposed to train his muscles to the proper movement).
how to make an aRead this, and see if you can decipher exactly what it says. Imagine trying to remember what stroke was what, how it differed from others, and how they fit together while your hand was struggling to follow your muddled brain. Could they have made it any more difficult?

Later on, one school of handwriting instruction broke letters down into individual component strokes, which at their most extreme were taught externally to the letters: You’d learn Stroke A, Stroke B, and Stroke C, and then learn that a particular letter was composed of A and C, for instance. Overcomplication? Well, the Victorians were good at it!
Out of this group came Platt Rogers Spencer, who developed the wildly baroque swirls of Spencerian script. At the height of this movement, some writing masters’ instructions for certain feats (usually illustrative of the masters’ prowess) included holding the pen stationary on the paper while rotating the paper 180° before continuing -- hardly something useful for ordinary folk.
Later came A. N. Palmer, who was considered revolutionary in his time and who approached penmanship training with a regimentation that left generations of children with shivers if they heard the term "push-pull." Children were, among other things, made to stand at blackboards and, at "push" and "pull" commands from the teacher, make rows of consistent up/down chalk marks. As skill advanced, these would be done on paper in decreasing sizes until a good writing size was reached.
palmer buttonDuring A.N. Palmer's era, if you did everything right and completed your push-pulls with aplomb, you might receive a button like this one as a reward for your efforts.
As typewriting had mechanized office communication, Palmer turned individual writers into machines -- the social importance ascribed to handwriting had again transmogrified from an integral indicator of character to a disconnected musculoskeletal function. Palmer"s method did, however, result in uniform, legible handwriting. The downturn of penmanship was in part in response to that extreme regimentation.
Later chapters trace the development of graphology, which has its roots in mid-1700s attempts to decipher character from physiognomy (phrenology was one branch of that school of thought), and the evolution and devolution of the craft as it gradually slipped into disrepute and became sidelined as an inessential element in an educated, well-rounded person.

Calligraphy tips


Wanna try calligraphy now? Take a deep breath. Don’t even think about ornate gothic styles! And don’t try it ’til you’re comfortable with the shoulder-motion, wrist-and-forearm-make-the-letters writing you’ve been working on. If you wait, you’ll be much more successful with calligraphy.
gothic styletDon't drool over this Gothic style (often called Old English, top), because it’s not for beginners. You can draw them, but that's not the goal, is it? The goal is flowing letterforms. A simple, flowing, attractive italic (bottom) is a much more sensible (and readable!) objective.
For calligraphy, you’ll want a chisel-point (italic) pen for the thick-and-thin strokes that make attractive letterforms. Platignum makes a nice one; so does Osmiroid; I have a Sheaffer with three or four interchangeable nibs. They’re cartridge pens and much easier for a beginner than dip pens. Parker has a Vector calligraphy set, Sheaffer a Prelude, and Rotring, Pelikan, and others have theirs. Filcao makes a nice set that comes with a regular fine nib as well as the chisel-shaped calligraphy nibs. Most of the kits, you can pick up for $50 or less. Individual pens, like the Sheaffer No Nonsenses, you can get for $5-$6 each.
copperplate stylesThese graceful, ornate copperplate styles require the use of an offset oblique nib (see "Joy of Flex," part two) to execute them correctly (and without tearing your wrist from its moorings).
A quick note about italics and stubs: Italic nibs have sharp edges to give a clean, crisp transition from thin to thick to thin. Stub nibs have the same square, chopped-off look when viewed straight on, but if you look at them from the side, you can see that tipping material has been added so the point appears much thicker. This will still give you line-width variation, but the transitions will be softer and less crisp than if you’re using a regular italic nib.
However, regular italic nibs can be difficult for beginners to use. Because their edges are sharp, it’s easy for beginners to catch the corners or edges in the paper and yank or tear. Very frustrating (for the pen, too, I would imagine!). Most of the brands listed above have taken this into account, so that their calligraphy pens have some softening on the edges to help you get over this hump.
Another popular nib shape is often called "cursive italic." This is an italic grind, but with the outside corners smoothed off so that, if you press it quickly to paper at exactly 90°, you’ll get an oblong footprint. If you did this with a calligraphy italic nib, you’d get a rectangular footprint. This makes it easier for people to use for regular cursive writing.
uncial stylesMany pen experts recommend testing a nib for flexibility by pressing it gently against your fingernail. The more quickly the tines spread and the lighter the pressure, the more flexible the nib. This nib, on a 1920s Conklin, is fairly flexible, spreading significantly with little pressure.
If you’re a leftie, you’ll probably want to try oblique nibs -- they’re cut on a slant to accommodate the awkward angles lefties must use to write from left to right. It’s easier for underwriters than hook-over writers to do this, too. Their hands don’t drag over the just-inked words. If nothing else, use cheapie throw-away markers for practice. You can approximate an oblique cut on a marker with a sharp razor blade or X-acto knife. (There’s a book for lefties from Dover Publications, address at end: Left-handed Calligraphy, by Vance Studley. Marie Angel [also at end] addresses southpaws, too.)
Oblique nibs seem to have developed popularity, but I look at this pretty skeptically. Like the fad for Zoom and flexible nibs, I think it's largely a "me too" thing because frankly, not too many people either need or can use oblique nibs. If you’re right handed and trying to use a left oblique nib (the majority of oblique nibs), you have to cock your wrist at an unnatural angle to get the nib to contact the paper fully. If you hold your wrist more comfortably, only part of the nib will touch. Try putting the nib to paper (making a footprint, for example) while holding it in your fist. You'll see the odd angle at which it meets paper. The vast majority of people I"ve observed using oblique nibs don't use them correctly.
italic stylesThese two italic styles show that within a given style many, many variations can exist. Once you've developed your skill, you'll find that your italic looks slightly different from anyone else’s -- you'll have truly unique handwriting!
Most people first want to learn an italic style. Many "stroke charts" (charts that show which way to make what strokes and how to combine them to form the letters) exist; about my favorite overall is the trusty and inexpensive Speedball booklet. It has a good variety of styles, samples and examples, the letters are formed well (not always the case with instruction books, particularly those that come with calligraphy sets), and the charts are clear and self-explanatory. Should be available at any art store and most stationers. Practice combining the strokes, which will be similar to the ones you’ve been practicing, to form the letters.
They’ll probably look awful at first. They’ll become more refined with practice. Above all, don’t give in to the temptation to let your fingers form the letters! It’ll look better at first if you do, but will undo all the hard work you’ve done so far. Long-term, it’s counterproductive. Be patient and keep at it, just like you did the loops and circles.
Soon, if you’ve laid all the groundwork, you should be whizzing along and writing better, if not beautifully; and if you can move into calligraphy, then you'll eventually be able to add "beautifully" to that, too.
Many calligraphy books are available from Dover Books, which seems to be virtually unknown except among teachers. Many of Dover’s books are republished; all are reasonably priced.
calligraphy course contact:
solar academy,
Roy complex,
krishnancoil,
nagercoil.629001.
cell:  +91 94436 07174

The joy of flex, part two


offset oblique nib in holderThis offset oblique pen is made especially for use with copperplate and Spencerian scripts. The nib holder is offset to allow the writer to hold the pen at a comfortable writing angle while putting nib to paper at a much sharper angle than would be possible (or comfortable) otherwise. Looks like a medieval torture device, doesn't it?

Chances are, if you’ve purchased a flexible-nibbed pen with the expectation that it would make your handwriting look fantastic, you were disappointed. Popular belief seems to be that merely using a flexible nib (or stub or italic, for that matter, but here we’re sticking to flex nibs) will automatically confer beauty on your handwriting. Unfortunately, it’s not so. This is what I not-so-fondly call the flexible-nib myth.
Oh, flex-nibbed pens will make your writing look different, all right, and that may be all most people want. But "different" isn’t necessarily beautiful or better —- or even more legible.
For instance, I have a correspondent who has small handwriting, but believes that a broad italic nib makes his writing better and a flexible nib makes it beautiful. What those tools actually do is close up every a, e, and o so they’re indistinguishable, and each d and b looks just like every h. I won’t even talk about m, n, u, v, and w. Suffice it to say that reading his letters is sometimes a bit of a strain!
Another correspondent likes to use flexible nibs exclusively, but she’s never wanted to learn a copperplate or Spencerian hand. This is fine; flex nibs can, if used properly, "dress up" regular handwriting. But while she makes nice thick/thin lines and some pretty swirls, no two letters have the same axis and the baseline has a scalloped shape, not the straight baseline our eyes need to read easily.
Sorry to bring the bad news, but truly beautiful handwriting comes from disciplined practice and the application of specific skills. Without those, a flexible or italic nib may be fun, but it won’t be used to its greatest advantage. The truth is, flexible (and italic) nibs are intended to do specific things. To get the most out of them, you have to learn the appropriate techniques -— just as you wouldn’t blindly smack a hammer against a wall and expect it to hit nails without guidance, you can’t expect a pen to form beautiful or even legible writing without some direction -— some technique, if you will —- from your hand and arm.
Training and practice
These days, neither our eyes nor our hands know how to distinguish beautiful scripts done correctly from those executed poorly. Let’s say someone -— we’ll call him Bob, though we mean no offense to any thusly named readers -— has spent a little time learning the shapes of copperplate. He often expresses elation at the lovely letters he can now make. Because his untrained eye is unable to discern the subtle differences between the shapes he’s made and those he’s trying to replicate, Bob is stuck between the proverbial rock and hard place.
He can probably see that a professional’s script looks "better" than his, but can't determine why, and knowing why is vital to improvement.
Two characteristics are critical to good scripts: pressure and control. As mentioned briefly in part one of "The Joy of Flex," it’s not the breadth of the broadest part of a letter that’s the mark of a good calligrapher, but the delicacy and consistency of the finest line. To achieve that delicacy, Bob must consistently be able to control the pressure of nib against paper. And smooth, consistent control involves the use of shoulder and arm muscles (the shoulder girdle -— the use of the large shoulder, chest, and arm muscles to provide smooth power and endurance, while the wrist, hand, and fingers perform more delicate guidance functions) as well as the hand. It’s not difficult to learn, but it does take time and effort to master the skill.
Unfortunately, the only way I know to develop this technique is to practice. This means that, like a grade-schooler of a couple of generations back, Bob’s going to make a lot of mistakes, ugly letters, and probably many blobs and blotches. Most adults, having become accustomed to being competent at most things they do, have a difficult time going back to that "beginner" attitude and allowing themselves to make mistakes.
I’ve no intention of trying to explain in this brief space how to wield a flex nib with flair and skill. I do hope to illustrate a few of the things Bob’s new flex nib will do, if handled properly, and what to look for both when using one and viewing other people’s writing.
Basic do’s and don’ts
First, any good script should have a straight baseline —- all the letters should "sit" on the same line. All the strokes should be at the same angle. All the "x" heights —- the main body of the letter -— should be the same and you should be able to draw a straight line across the tops of the ascenders and descenders (e.g., top of h and bottom of p, respectively). And all the lines drawn across all those separate parts should be parallel. (Unless you’re doing flourishes, which allow you to exceed those upper and lower limits.)
Spencerian strokes done properlyFigure 1: When done properly, Spencerian strokes are parallel, of even width from top to bottom, at the same angle, on the same straight baseline, and executed with the same pressure.
really bad strokesFigure 2: Poorly executed strokes are at different angles, none of which is quite correct (the two on the right are closest). Angles don't match, baseline is crooked, pressure varies from top to bottom, and other details are wrong (see text).

We all have different writing angles, but for formal copperplate, one of the scripts for which flexible nibs were made, that should be at about 30-35° from vertical, or about a 55-60° angle to the baseline -— an angle steep enough to make writing feel awkward, which is why the offset nib holder was developed. Thus, letters should be written at about this angle and vertical strokes should look something like Fig. 1, not Fig. 2. This is where most of us first go wrong. We aren’t taught any longer (particularly those of us who learned to write after the early 1960s) to write consistently, even with ordinary printing or cursive, so we don’t know how to look at our writing analytically and recognize our inconsistencies and mistakes.
If you note those details, you’ll see that the strokes in Fig. 2 are at different angles, only two of which approximate the 35° slope. Rather than being of even width throughout, the poor strokes show that, left to right, pressure is applied inconsistently after the stroke has begun; pressure is applied slightly after the stroke has begun and increases, widening the stroke throughout its length; pressure is uneven and the stroke wobbles; and pressure is released before the end of the stroke. The base- and top lines aren’t straight, either.
Next comes the pressure-and-control part. In properly done script, the thins are consistent and clean, the transitions to and from thick strokes are smooth, and the transitions occur at the same place for each letter. The last is, in my opinion and observation, the most difficult thing for modern students to get correctly -— there are so many ways to do it wrong! In the examples below, note the baselines and X heights and carefully compare the tops and bottoms of the strokes and the spot where the thick-thin transition occurs. In the first, the strokes are fairly good —- parallel going up and down, and with the transitions occurring just past midpoint on the downstroke or upstroke.
correct copperplate curved linesThese strokes are done correctly for copperplate or Spencerian. The thick/thin transitions are consistent, as are angles, curves, pressure, and other details (see text).
really bad curved linesHere, we have a beginner's attempt at the above strokes. It's easy to see, when comparing them to the correct examples, where and how they go wrong, but it can be devilishly difficult to see those things in our own writing. See text for detailed explanation.

In the group above, we have some common problems, which have been exaggerated for effect. Again, left to right, strokes are fairly parallel but pressure doesn’t start until after the downstroke has begun; strokes aren’t parallel, though the downstroke pressure begins at closer to the right spot; the o is too round and pressure isn’t released before the upstroke begins; the strokes are close to parallel but crooked, showing uneven pressure, and additional pressure comes on the upstroke just after it starts upward (a good way to break a delicate tine); strokes aren’t parallel and pressure stays on past the beginning of the upstroke. And just look at that baseline!
pen is mightier done badlyThis is a beginner's attempt at writing with an offset oblique nib. Line-width variation definitely exists, but not in any consistent fashion, and compared to the better example (green, below), it’s. . . well, pretty sad. Fortunately, the person who committed this atrocity also thinks it’s pretty sad, so we can make fun of it.
showing baseline on phraseHere, we've added a green line to show how the baseline rises, dips, and curves, more like a mountain range than a written line of words.
good pen is mightierAbove, the familiar phrase executed by a more experienced hand. Much easier to read, soothing to the eye, even, cleanly executed, legible -- and beautiful.

If copperplate is starting to look and sound a little more complicated than just picking up a flexible nib and writing . . . well, it kinda is. It’s not so much difficult as it is exacting, and it requires great attention to the tiniest details we’re not accustomed to worrying about, and then there’s that pressure-and-control thing . . .
You aren’t going to be able to pick up a flex pen and learn copperplate from these brief examples. (If you can, we’ll all want your stock-market tips, too!) This would take a lot more information, and more time, dedication, and practice than most of us want to put in. But they should give you a sense of what your flexible nib was meant to do, what it can do in the right hands, and equally important, what good copperplate ought to look like, so you won’t be overly impressed with less-than-prime examples.
normal writing with flex nib
normal writing with flex nibAbove are two examples of writers who frequently use flexible nibs in their everyday worlds. Neither has Spencerian pretensions, but both are reasonably legible and smooth. In the red example, you can see thicks and thins and a couple of graceful transitions; but this nib is too wide for the writer's normal handwriting. In the green example, there's less line-width variation and the writer depends more on flourishes than letterforms to gain distinctiveness. These are ordinary flexible nibs, not intended for Spencerian hands; they'll give lovely line variation but it’s difficult to do proper copperplate with them because of the extreme forward angle required.

A final note: Always, using your pens should be fun. If learning this kind of thing is just more effort than you want to put into it, don’t. Enjoy what your flex nibs will do within the sphere of your own interest and writing abilities. Just watch those baselines and angles, and try to make sure that your writing is legible.
full view of oblique offset penJust in case you wanted to see what the whole offset oblique pen looks like, I threw this in. Sorry, but yes, you have to master the art of dipping pens to use them.

The joy of flex, part one


flex1 introThis flourish is made with a superflex nib on an E. Johnson dip pen from the 1800s. Even then, superflex nibs were a bit of a specialty item; and their relative fragility made their survival to modern days less likely. Note how the ink separates to follow the individual tines as they spread past the ink’s ability to maintain a sheet across the gap.

"How do you know when a nib is flexible?" asked the puzzled young man before me, a frown crinkling between his eyebrows.
"Uh-h-h. . ." My response, slightly less than articulate, illustrated my bafflement. For me, it’s kind of like breathing -- hard to explain step by step to, say, a fish with new lungs. But the young man had a legitimate question: How do we determine whether a nib is rigid, semi-flex, flexible, or a wet noodle? How can a person judge whether he or she might like to try one, or for that matter what it ought to do once in his/her possession? Can we make comparisons to pens that nearly everyone would have access to, so we’ll have a more or less equal baseline for comparison?
That sent me on a quest to those more knowledgeable than I about nibs, metallurgy, calligraphy and flexible-nib-based handwriting, and flexibility in general. Sam Fiorella, John Mottishaw, Pier Gustafson, and David Nishimura, to be exact -- all well-known and well-respected names in the pen-collecting world.
First, we should note that nib flexibility involves many factors. Among those are alloy composition, tine length and width, nib thickness, slit length (to some extent), and others. Less controllable factors (at least as far as objective analysis is concerned) come into play, also, such as the writing characteristics of the person wielding the nib -- for example, the pressure on the nib and the angle at which it’s held to the paper. And if those weren’t daunting enough, we still have to add the physics involved, which includes such things as friction, opposing forces, and things I haven’t messed with for 30 years.
You can relax; we aren’t going to go into those technical bits. They can be fascinating, but also complex, and deserve detailed discussion on their own. Since they aren’t relevant to our main point, which is how to determine a nib’s flexibility and give it some sort of classification, we’re going to ignore most of them.

General classification agreement
I was pleased to see that everyone essentially agreed with my initial assessment: The only practical way to determine a nib’s flexibility is to try it out -- feel it -- and judge its behavior against that of other nibs. In other words, we all use a subjective/relative assessment rather than an objective/measurable one (although I’m sure such a set of criteria could be developed if one were so inclined).
"I judge it like you do, by the feel of the nib and just how it writes," said Fiorella. "No magical formula!"
Nishimura offers descriptions that he uses to judge flexibility:
Semi-flex: nibs with "suspension," i.e. they respond to pressure with a change in feel, but without creating significant line variation.
Flex: nibs that provide significant line variation.
Superflex (the "wet noodle" variety): nibs that must be used with a light touch, that open up with very light pressure and can be destroyed by careless or inexperienced handling.
"There’s really not much more one can do, as a practical matter," Nishimura said. "There’s no simple answer to flex descriptions."
rigid vs. flex tinesAbove left, you can see some of the typical characteristics of a rigid vintage nib: short, stubby tines and a short slit with a broader shoulder. Above right, a more flexible nib with longer, thinner tines, a narrower shoulder, and a slimmer profile overall.
thumbnail shotMany pen experts recommend testing a nib for flexibility by pressing it gently against your fingernail. The more quickly the tines spread and the lighter the pressure, the more flexible the nib. This nib, on a 1920s Conklin, is fairly flexible, spreading significantly with little pressure.

A simple methodology
Mottishaw, the metallurgist and nib-modifier in the crowd, had similar thoughts but a different way of expressing it, and offers a simple, easy test for flexibility. "Rather than an objective criteria I would describe a methodology," he said. "Because flexibility is a characteristic in a gold nib, to bend when put under pressure, the test becomes one of feeling.
"What I like to do is place the tip of the nib on my left thumbnail and feel how much pressure is required in order to separate the tines. I suppose one could measure that in grams (ounces might be a little crude), but I never have."
Obviously, then, the lighter the pressure needed to cause the tines to spread appreciably, the more flexible the nib. The thumbnail test is a common one among penfolk; look around any pen show or gathering of pen collectors, and the fountain-pen users will be testing each other’s nibs on their thumbnails for just the effect Mottishaw mentions. (Caveat: Do this gently and cautiously until you know what you’re doing so you don’t accidentally spring a nib beyond its ability to recover.)
It’s significant, also, that people experienced with flexible nibs tend to the definitions Nishimura offered. Agreement was pretty much universal as to what constitutes rigid, semi-flex, flex, and superflex. That will make our task somewhat easier.
Gustafson, a professional calligrapher and graphic designer who creates the exquisite thick/thin flourishes of Spencerian, copperplate, and related hands with the ease with which most of us blink our eyes, once wrote and illustrated a pocket-sized booklet, which he jokes is "fraught with subjectivity," that delved into the intricacies of nib flexibility. It’s important to note at the outset that the mark of a top-notch calligrapher is not the breadth of line, but the fineness of the finest line produced and the quality of the transitions from thin to thick and vice versa (the desirable qualities vary from hand to hand). It takes considerable control to make that just-barely-there stroke (and make it consistently) preparatory to the pressured stroke that splays a nib. Part of the nib’s ability to do that is the only other nib quality we’re going to discuss, and that briefly: Return, as Gustafson calls it.
Return refers to the rapidity with which a flexed nib returns to its original shape. If it does so instantly when pressure is released, it has a fast return; if more slowly, a slower return. This will affect the kind of thin/thick lines it will make, regardless of who’s wielding it. A fast-return nib will allow an instant switch on the upstroke from thickest to thinnest line; a slow-return nib will not, and will result in a more gradual change from thick to thin. Sometimes this is desirable; sometimes not.
We’ve compiled a list of modern and vintage pens that tend to exhibit the characteristics we’re illustrating. This list is not exhaustive, nor even hard and fast. It’s entirely possible to have variation within manufacturers and within the same model range. We hope that at least one or two among them will be available to everyone, so you can try the various nibs against your own thumbnail and get a feel for flex vs. non-flex. In addition, these descriptions will help readers understand exactly what we mean in future when we classify a nib as flexible, semi-flex, or rigid.
lines made by rigid nibsRigid nibs, which have little to no flex, leave lines of uniform width regardless of pressure. Left to right, Rotring Core, XS nib (about the same as F); Retro 51, M; Visconti Pericles, F; Cesare Emiliano, M. Please note--these images are intended only to illustrate line-width variation, not to be beautiful!

Rigid nibs
Most modern nibs fall into this classification. They often are just as suitable as ballpoints or rollerballs for multi-copy forms and are certainly easier for ballpoint-reared hands to master. I can’t think of a modern nib that’s genuinely flexible (Nakaya and Namiki Falcon would fall into my "soft" category). The change in fashion to rigid nibs occurred in the early 1920s when the first Sheaffer Lifetime and Parker Duofold nibs were made thick and solid to live up to their long warranties. Sheaffer Lifetimes and Senior Duofolds from 1924 through 1930 will usually be rigid, as are all Waterman’s manifold nibs, and most vintage manufacturers -- Conklin, Wahl-Eversharp, Mabie Todd -- included rigid nibs in their line-ups. The Parker 51s and Sheaffer conical (Triumphs, Snorkels) and inlaid nibs (PFMs, Imperials) generally fall into this category. Contemporary pens with rigid nibs include such readily available (and usually inexpensive) pens as the Parker Vector, Sheaffer No Nonsense, Diplomats, Heros, Cesare Emilianos, Pelikan Futures and Pelikanos, and disposable fountain pens such as Pilot Varsitys. Most modern Waterman nibs are rigid -- a nice irony, since their early nibs were among the most expressive in the industry -- as are most current Parker and Sheaffer nibs.
lines made by semiflex nibsThese lines, made with semiflex nibs, show slight variation from very light to fairly heavy pressure. Left to right, Ancora Ravenna, F; 1940 Sheaffer Balance, EF; 1940 Parker Duofold, F; modern Pelikan 400, F.

Semi-flex nibs
Most Pelikan nibs, on the 400 models and up, tend toward semi-flexibility. When pressed, these "soft" nibs give slightly, imparting a gentle, cushion-like "bounce" to the feel of the writing. This doesn’t give significant line variation, but it can set up an engaging writing rhythm; it’s almost as if they give your fingers a boost toward the next letter. Semi-flexes also can be found in many of the Italian brands, such as OMAS, Stipula, Delta, and Ancora. Nakaya's flexible nib is on the soft side of soft for me; it comes closer to old-style flex, but isn't quite. Generally, you’ll not find these among the under $100 pens (although there can be exceptions, usually where you least expect them). Waterman #2 nibs from 1915 through 1925, with the New York imprint, and Sheaffer’s ca. 1920 self-fillers are vintage examples.
lines from flexible nibsWith flexible nibs, we begin to see some genuine line variation (and it takes much less pressure to get it). Left to right, Security, F nib; Waterman’s #7 Red, F; 19th Century Aikin-Lambert dip pen, F-M

Flexible nibs
Among early flexy Waterman nibs, the #2s are the most ubiquitous. The flexibility of the Pink and Red nibs in the 5 and 7 series is legendary. Wahl, Conklin, and Mabie Todd made a range of flexible nibs in the semi-flex and flexible categories. Mottishaw adds that few truly flexible nibs were made after 1930 and even fewer after 1940, but points out that Canadian-made post-1930s Waterman and Parker pens slated for export often had flexible nibs, as these had a place in the hearts of many Europeans (who also had flexible Pelikans, OMAS, and Mont Blanc pens to choose from).
Pre-1920 Parker and some early Sheaffer nibs had lovely flexibility, too. Dip pen nibs usually offer more flex at lower prices, and it’s really not that difficult to learn to control the ink flow with a dip pen. I still use them to write letters from time to time and find it quite soothing. That can make it an inexpensive way to try out flexible nibs to see if you like them. I'm reminded of a craze for Sailor's Zoom nibs a while back -- everybody had to have one, but the majority of people realized after they'd bought the specialized nib that they couldn't handle it well. You won’t find any modern fountain-pen nibs that are genuinely flexible, no matter what their manufacturers and catalog-writers say.
lines from super-flexible nibsNote the differences in ink intensity in these examples of superflex lines. The left one has a slower return than the one on the right; and you can see that when the nib is spread to its maximum, the ink lays slightly thicker toward the outside edge, near the tines. Also note the curlique outline at the end of the far-right example; as the nib was lifted, the tines sprang back together quickly enough to leave an instructive footprint. Left to right, Mabie Todd, Aikin Lambert, Fairchild, all dip pens from the late 19th and early 20th Centuries.

Superflex nibs
Waterman, Mabie Todd, and Wahl-Eversharp are about the only vintage firms that made superflex nibs, and they can be hard to find. After all, super-flexibility wasn’t something everyone wanted even when the pens were originally made. Some Parker and Conklin nibs from about 1910-1917 can fall into the superflex category, but they aren’t common. You’ll find this quality most often in dip pens from the mid 1800s onward; you won’t find it in any modern pen. Be sure, if you’re considering a superflex or even a flexible nib, that you have an opportunity to try it gently and see how quickly and widely the tines spread. A pen show is a perfect place to do so, with a vast array of nibs and a lot of people to help you choose (and test gently). If that’s not an option, members of pen-related lists and boards online are good sources of information, too, and again, some dip pens at your local art store can give you an inexpensive trial run.
The accompanying illustrations, which make no pretense as to beauty but are utilitarian only, should help you judge where on the flex spectrum a specific nib falls. Using superflex pens requires a delicate touch that does not come naturally to hands reared on ballpoints, rollerballs, and the like.
Flexible nibs part two discusses what flexible and italic nibs are supposed to do, with the goal of helping you decide whether you want one or are getting the most out of those you already have.

Tips for improving your handwriting


People always look puzzled when I mention the shoulder girdle. If you raise your hand in the air and make large circles, note the muscles you use in doing so (here, shown in darker pink). That’s the shoulder girdle.
Fig. 2--Two-fingers-on-top position
Fig. 1--most common
You’ve decided you want to improve your handwriting and you’re probably hoping a fountain pen will do the trick -- maybe a friend told you it would. Maybe you’re just adventurous and you want to try your hand at calligraphy (or you might, once your handwriting improves). Good for you!
A fountain pen may make your writing look a bit better, but if your writing looks as if frenzied chickens got loose on the page, chances are this won’t be enough. Most likely, you’ll need to retrain your arm and hand.
After coaching handwriting and teaching calligraphy over the years, I’ve learned to see the characteristics of those who’ll be able to pick up the necessary motions quickly from those who’ll have to work a bit harder.
Crampy, uneven letters are often the result of drawing the letters with the fingers rather than using the whole arm to write.
Tight, crampy letters drawn with fingers
People who inevitably have trouble with handwriting and calligraphy write with their fingers. They "draw" the letters. A finger-writer puts the full weight of his/her hand on the paper, his fingers form the letters, and he picks his hand up repeatedly to move it across the paper as he writes.

Writing done using correct muscle groups
If you use the right muscle groups, your writing will have a smooth, easy flow and not look tortured.
People for whom writing comes more easily may rest their hands fairly heavily on the paper, but their forearms and shoulders move as they write. Their writing has a cadence that shows they’re using at least some of the right muscle groups. They don’t draw the letters with their fingers; the fingers serve more as guides.
This exercise may help you determine which category is yours: Sit down and write a paragraph. Doesn’t matter what. Pay attention to the muscles you use to form your letters. Do you draw each letter with your fingers? Pick your hand up repeatedly to move it? Have an unrecognizable scrawl? Does your forearm move? Chances are, if you learned to write after 1955-60 (depending on where you went to grade school), you write with your fingers.
My goal isn’t to make you into a model Palmer-method writer or a 14th Century scribe. If you can compromise between the "right" methods and the way you write now and improve your handwriting so you’re happier with it, then I’m happy, too.

A few people hold the pen between first and middle fingers, which feels really awkward to me, but I’ve seen it work.
Some people even hold their pens like this!It will take time to re-train muscles and learn new habits. Finger-writing isn’t fatal, but it is slow and often painful (if you have to write much). The first thing you must have (beg, buy, borrow or steal it) is patience and gentleness with yourself. The second requirement is determination.
If you finger-write, that is the first, most important thing you must un-learn: Do not draw your letters! Do not write with your fingers! Put up signs everywhere to remind you. Write it in the butter, on the shaving mirror, stick notes in the cereal boxes. But learn it!
I hesitate to include this, because it sounds much more difficult than it is . . . but . . . let’s look at the most basic things: holding the pen and positioning the hand.
Fig. 1. This is the most common pen-holding position, with pen between first and middle fingers, held in place by the thumb.
Most of us hold the pen between the thumb and index finger, resting the barrel on the middle finger (fig. 1). This works better than holding it between the thumb and the index and middle fingers, with the whole assembly resting on the ring finger (fig. 2). If you do it the first way, you’re off to a good start. If the second, you’ll be okay. In both, the remaining fingers are curled under the hand.
Fig. 2. The two-fingers-on-top method for holding the pen while writing.
Pick up your pen and look at your hand. You’ll have better control and a better writing angle if your pen rests over or just forward of the bottom knuckle on your index finger, not between thumb and index finger (see fig. 3). (I hold my fountain pens in the latter position, but when I pick up a calligraphy pen, it drops obediently right over that big knuckle--go figure!)
Fig. 3--Correct position over knuckle
Fig. 3. Note that with this position, usually used for calligraphy (or among really disciplined writers), causes the pen to rest atop the knuckle of the forefinger.
For handwriting, the pen position is less important than for calligraphy. I recommend working in your familiar position unless it’s really bad. What’s essential is that you be comfortable, the pen feel balanced and you have no tension in your hand. Rest the heel of your hand and the angle of your curled-up little finger on the paper.
Hold the pen lightly; don’t squeeze it. Pretend the barrel is soft rubber and squeezing will get you a big, fat blot. (If you were using a quill, you’d hold it so lightly that the actual act of drawing the quill along the paper would create the proper contact.)
Many books recommend you write with your table at a 45-degree angle, but that’s impractical for most of us. If you can prop up a board or write with one on your lap, that’s a good place to start, but a flat surface is fine. Once you try an angled surface, you’re likely not to want to quit, so be careful-- here goes a whole new budget’s worth of art supplies!
Sit up straight, but not stiffly; don’t sit hunched over or slumped. Don’t worry too much about this position stuff; the important thing is what makes you feel relaxed and comfortable. Your writing arm needs to be free to move, so squished into the La-Z-Boy probably won’t be productive.
Hold your fingers fairly straight and write slightly above and just between your thumb and index finger, right where you’re holding the pen. Don’t curl your hand over and write to the left of your palm; that’s a crampy, miserable position. More lefties do this than righties.
Don’t hook your hand backwards like this

Commonly called the "hook" position, this is often seen in left-handers. It makes it harder, but not impossible, for them to use a fountain pen, because their hands tend to drag over the wet ink.
When you’re practicing and you reach the level on the paper at which it becomes uncomfortable to continue to move your hand down the paper to write, move the paper up. Once you recognize your "writing level," the paper should move up at that spot rather than your hand moving down the paper. (This isn’t critical. If you notice it and it bothers you, that’s what you do about it. If it doesn’t bother you, skip it.)
I’ve found only one reference to using the right muscle groups to write, and this is critical. I can’t be the only person who knows this; I’m neither that smart nor that good. Calligraphy instruction books address hand position, desk position, lighting, paper, you name it--but for some reason, not using the right muscles.
As you’ve probably surmised, the "right muscles" are not those in the fingers. You must use the shoulder-girdle and forearm muscles. This muscle group is capable of much more intricate action than you think and tires much less easily than fingers, besides giving a smooth, clean, sweeping look to the finished writing. Though it seems paradoxical, since we’re accustomed to thinking of small muscles having better control, the shoulder-girdle group, once trained, does the job better.
To get a feel for the proper muscles (and start training them correctly), hold your arm out in front of you, elbow bent, and write in the air. Write big. Use your arm and shoulder to shape letters; hold your forearm, wrist and fingers stationary and in writing position. You’ll feel your shoulder, arm, chest and some back muscles doing most of the work. That’s good. That’s what they’re supposed to do. Try to duplicate it each time you practice.
Write in the air until it becomes as natural as breathing. It’ll be awkward and feel silly at first. If you have a little kid around, get him/her to do it with you. You’ll both have fun, you won’t feel so alone, and it’ll be good for the child’s handwriting, too. If you don’t have a kid, tell your co-workers you’re improving your financial karma or hexing your boss.
As you become comfortable, reduce the size of the air-letters you make. If you have access to a chalkboard or a stick and a fence (or even a finger and a wall), write on them. They’ll give you a feel for the muscles you need to use and writing on a vertical surface makes it virtually impossible to finger-write. (If you’re one of the people who can’t write on a blackboard because you keep wanting to shrink the writing down so your fingers can do it, this is really important for you.) If you keep wanting to hunch up close and put your hand on the chalkboard or wall to write, resist the urge! You’ll be indulging those dratted fingers.
Remember: Your fingers should move very little and your wrist even less. Your forearm does most of the guiding, while your shoulder provides the power.
At some point, you’ll want to try this with a pen. Hold it gently. Place it on the paper in an ordinary lined spiral notebook (the lines act as ready-made guidelines for size and spacing). If you can get hold of a first-grader’s Big Chief tablet, which offers big lines with a dotted line between two bold lines, use it. There’s a reason children start out writing big and the letters get smaller as they get older and more skilled—-that’s the easiest way to learn.
Start making Xs and ///s and \\\s and OOOOs and overlapped OOOs and spirals and |||||s. Do not draw these strokes and figures! Use the same shoulder-forearm muscles you’ve been practicing with. Make your lines, loops, circles and spirals freely. Work into a rhythm and make it a habit.
Make slashes as uniform as possible in both directionsWhen you start making slashes and circles, they’ll be uneven. With practice, they’ll become more uniform, and uniformity is your objective.
Your goal is smooth, uniform, evenly spaced lines, loops, circles and spirals, without drawing them.
This is where you’re most likely to get discouraged. If you use a spiral notebook for practice, you can leaf back and see your progress. At first, your strokes and lines will be bad—over-running and under-running the lines, too small, too big, crooked, uneven, just ugly. Check your position; check your muscle groups; and try again. And again.
Concentrate on keeping wrist-hand-fingers largely stationary and in proper alignment. Let the big muscles do the work. It will be more tiring at first, because you’re using muscles that aren’t accustomed to that kind of work. It’ll be hard and frustrating, ’cause your body will want to do it the way it’s done it since first grade… even though that way is wrong. It may help to concentrate less on the accuracy of the shapes you’re making than on the muscles making them. Retraining your arm is the goal, not making pretty little circles and lines first time out.
Aim for uniformity and consistency in all exercisesUniformity and consistency are your aim in all the exercises, whether loopy or slashy. Though it seems uncomfortable, these exercises will make a huge difference in your control and smoothness.
When you start putting the strokes and lines on paper, start out big. Three, four, even more lines in your notebook. (Big Chiefs are handy for this.) This helps ensure that you continue to use the shoulder girdle. Don’t try to make pretty letters at this stage. Do the exercises as much as you can—-shoot for every day. Ten or fifteen minutes a day should show results in a few weeks for most people. And note that both air-writing and paper exercises can be doodledduring meetings and while on holdwaiting for somebody!
Concentrate on that shoulder girdle. Let it do the work. Write big. Write words and sentences at the same time you’re doing strokes and exercises. You need both working together to succeed.
Gradually, as your control increases, make your strokes and letters smaller until they’re the size you normally write. You’ll know when you get there. By this time, you probably won’t have to make extra effort to incorporate this stuff into your writing; it’ll be automatic. And your writing should look much better (and be easier and feel better, to boot).

Friday, September 2, 2011

அழகிய கையெழுத்து தெரபி மூலம் மாற்றம் பெற்ற கையெழுத்து




                  

NAME : R.THANA LAKSHMI
CLASS :5TH STD
SCHOOL : ADARSH VIDYAKENDRA, NAGERCOIL.
DATE OF JOINNING: 17.04.2006
END OF COURSE: 29.05.2006.



                 

அழகிய கையெழுத்து தெரபி மூலம் மாற்றம் பெற்ற கையெழுத்து









x

அழகிய கையெழுத்து சில மாதிரிகள்




பயிற்சிக்கு முன், பயிற்சிக்கு பின்
                                  மாதிரி 1



                                                                         மாதிரி 2



                                                                             மாதிரி3


Thursday, September 1, 2011


டாக்டர் குமரி ஆ.குமரேசன், 
MSC (PSY),MS(COUN & PSY),RHMP,RAMP,DPFR,DHN,DAT,DYNS,AAT.


சோலார் மாற்று மருத்துவம்,
ராய் காம்ப்ளக்ஸ்,
கிருஷ்ண்ன்கோவில் பஸ் ஸ்டாப்,
நகர்கோவில் 629001.
செல்-94436 07174, 94896 20090, 93675 11133.

             _ சிறப்பு தகுதிகள் _


*சித்தா,ஆயுர்வேதிக்,இயற்கை மருத்துவம்,ஹோமியோபதி,மலர் மருத்துவம்,அக்குபங்சர் போன்ற பக்கவிளைவு இல்லாத மருத்துவதில் சிகிச்சை,ஆலோசனை வழங்குபவர்.


*தமிழகத்தில் வெளியாகும் முன்னனி மருத்துவ இதழ்களில் கட்டுரைகள் எழுதி வருபவர்.(இனைய தளங்களிலும் வெளியாகிறது).


*ஆற்றுப்படுத்துதல்,உள சிகிச்சையில் (Counselling & Psychotherapy) டிப்ளமோ மற்றும் முதுகலை கல்வியும்,உளவியலில் (Master of Scince in Psychology) மேற்படிப்பு உள்ளவர்.


*சர்வதேச பாலியல் மாநாட்டில் (International Conference on Sexology) பங்குபெற்று சிறப்பு பயிற்சி பெற்றவர்.


*சன்நெட்வொர்க்,SUN TV,தினகரன் நாளிதல் நடத்திய மருத்துவ கண்காட்சியில் (Medi Expo-2011) “பூத்து குலுங்கும் இல்லற இன்பம்” குறித்து மருத்துவ உரையும்,பாலியல் ஆலோசனை நிகழ்விலும் பங்குபெற்றவர்.


*கணவன் மனைவி அன்பை வளர்க்கும் “காதல் வங்கி” (LOVE BANK) அமைப்பின் பொறுப்பளர்.


* “மக்கள் மருத்துவம்” மருத்துவ இதழின் ஆசிரியர்.


*சோலார் மாற்று மருத்துவம் ஆய்வு மையத்தின் இயக்குனர்.


* சோலார் சாரிட்டபிள் டிரஸ்ட்-டின்(SOLAR CHARITABLE TRUST) இயக்குனர்.