FYI: Your email provider might struggle with this one. If so, use the read in app option here⬏
How it started⬏
How it’s going⬎
July 25 // On Gear_
Repeat after me_
TLDR//
Gear doesn’t matter.
The pencil and computer are, if left to their own devices, equally dumb and only as good as the person driving them.
- Norman Foster
Salvador Dali drew this with a burnt stick⬎
Here’s Jack White making a guitar out of a piece of wood, wire, a few nails and a Coke bottle⬎
This was shot on an iPhone 6⬎
It's not,
never has been,
and never will be,
the gear that matters.
So, if gear doesn't matter_
_why do I put so much stock in these pencils?
How much stock?
This much⬎
Why do I put so much stock in these pencils?
A straightforward question.
But I don't think it has a straightforward answer.
The pencil_
The lore_
The pedigree_
Quincy Jones,
Faye Dunaway,
John Williams,
Igor Stravinsky,
Wynton Marsalis,
Stephen Sondheim,
Iris Panier-part,
Duke Ellington,
Leonard Bernstein,
Vladimir Nabokov,
Celia Gitterson,
Don Bluth,
EB White,
Shamus Culhane,
Truman Capote,
Aaron Copland,
Nelson Riddle,
Eugene O'Neill,
Arthur Laurents,
Todd Field,
Archibald MacLeish,
Chuck Jones asked to be buried with his.
And, John Steinbeck said this⬎
I have found a new kind of pencil—the best I have ever had. Of course it costs three times as much too but it is black and soft but doesn't break off. I think I will always use these. They are called Blackwings and they really glide over the paper.
- John Steinbeck1
The story_
Originally manufactured by the Eberhard Faber Pencil Company in 1934. Discontinued in 1998, when the machine that made the ferrule and eraser system broke. Too expensive to fix, they shut the brand down.
Supply quickly dried up, and they started reselling online for $40-$200 for a single pencil.
In 2008 Palomino bought the brand for $300. From there, they reverse-engineered the entire product, which, despite being “only” a pencil, is incredibly difficult to make.
Wood for weight and balance. Graphite for pigment. Wax for the glide. Clay for structure. Thousands of trial-and-error tests, on top of which they had to match the expectations of the original 602 owners and spend upwards of $250k to build the machine to put the eraser in the ferrule.
A true engineering masterpiece. It has a unique graphite and wax mix only known to 5 people. It glides smoothly but retains its clearly audible scratchiness. Its Japanese-crafted body of aromatic incense cedar is coated in a minimum of 11 layers of lacquer. The straight grain speaks of the timber quality, making it a pleasure to hold and even sharpen. The ferrule is uniquely shaped (it won't roll off a desk, and you can dictate how precisely you need to use the eraser).
The Delorean Gullwing Coupe of Pencils.
At its peak, Eberhard Faber made 432 a day, or roughly 150k a year.
Now, Palomino is rumoured to make and sell north of 150k Blackwings a month (or 5,189 a day).
It's an incredible pencil.
I think it’s the best pencil.
(And I should know, I’ve used a lot of pencils).
But, if I am being honest, it's no better than many other pencils.
The Koh-I-Noor 1500⬎
The Mitsubishi 8950⬎
The NOS Rotring 600 Mechanical⬎
_to name but a few.
So, if it’s not the pencil itself, is it the obscure references, celebrity endorsement and odd-looking design that make the difference?
Geeky? Yes.
Interesting? To the right person.
The reason I won't use any other pencils? No.
First, these titbits are reverse-engineered.
I owned and loved the pencil long before I knew the trivia.
And second, none of this matters in a pencil.
None of this is going to make me write any better. I could just use a classic yellow No.2⬎,
_of which I can source 22 for the cost of a single Blackwing 602.
The specs don’t matter.
The pencil doesn’t matter.
The gear doesn't matter.
But_
Everything above talks about the quantitative features of a 602. The solid and tangible specs. None of what I've written about so far takes into account the intangible aspects of using this pencil.
A 602 is not just a pencil.
It's an experience.
Picking one up makes you feel something.
The Blackwing I drafted this with (what's left of it at least) sparks joy, pleasure and professionalism.
It screams capability, creativity & confidence.
It speaks of all the story, lore, love, skill, time, passion, attention to detail and enduring quality that have gone into such a simple object.
Their work sets a benchmark_
_that manifests in my world.
In me.
My work.
My mood.
My best mood.
My best work.
The best version of myself.
With a 602 in my hand,
working on something,
for someone,
I feel unstoppable.
There are other pencils out there that perform as well as the Blackwing, but they don't entice me to pick them up and use them the way a Blackwing does (I know this because I own most of them too).
It matters because it inspires me.
It inspires me
to do more,
more often,
at a higher quality.
And this⬏ makes me better.
Because_
I wouldn’t write without one.
And this⬏ makes it worth the ridiculous price tag.
But, here's where this way of thinking gets dangerous.
Does this sound familiar?
I'll start when I get the right camera.
I can't write properly without a proper desk.
Once I have the right software, then I'll begin.
This⬏ is bullshit.
The work comes first.
The tools follow.
A Blackwing didn't make me a writer.
A Blackwing helps me write, more often and better, but I was already writing before with whatever I could find.
The harsh truth:
If you're not doing it now, with what you have, then you won't do it later with better gear either.
Go too far with this thinking, and “gear” becomes a carefully rehearsed lie2.
(FYI: This bit is driving me crazy because there's a paradox here)
You shouldn't use gear as an excuse, but gear also removes all other excuses.
I’ll try explain.
This bike⬎
My bike_
_cost more than my first car,
and my second car,
and third car,
combined.
I won’t get into the tech specs, but it’s faster and lighter than my ability deserves.
If I’m out and someone overtakes me, or I get dropped in a race, or just can't ride as fast or as far as I wanted, I can't blame the bike.
The results I get on this bike are entirely my fault.
That's the point.
When your tools are no longer the limiting factor, you're forced to confront the real issue.
N.B. It's you.
Or in this case, me.
Good gear doesn't make you better. It makes it impossible to pretend your limitations are about anything other than your effort and skill.
That's liberating.
And terrifying.
But, there’s a limit.
A line.
Go too far and it undoes the whole thing.
Give a filmmaker unlimited budget, and they'll make Avatar: The Way of Water.
Give a writer an unlimited time frame and they'll make nothing.
Constraint forces invention.
Limitation breeds innovation.
Creativity requires constraint.
The best work comes from not having quite enough to do what needs doing and doing it anyway.
Any more kills creativity.
It’s the argument for “shot on an iPhone”.
There’s nothing I can make that I can’t make with it.
The technology exceeds my ability, whilst still providing the constraints required for creativity.
And it’s also why I love my Blackwings and a Field Notes journal.
But, it could have been anything.
A pen.
A place.
A practice.
For me, it’s a pencil.
A simple pencil.
That’s my key to the work.
To better.
To more.
What’s yours?
— iain.
P.s. We have some pencils for sale if you would like some (I’ve been given an ultimatum).
Things that didn’t make it⬎
Pencils you should know⇲
The Secret Life of Pencils⇲
How many words can a Blackwing write⇲
Also shot on an iPhone⇲
Big Man - Stormzy⇲
Watcha gonna do with that duck?⇲
The same pencil that frees me from "my tools suck" can trap me in "I need the EXACT right pencil for this project." Good gear creates its own form of procrastination - suddenly you're researching the perfect paper, the ideal sharpener, the optimal writing angle. The Blackwing becomes both solution and problem.
Every creative person has a key to the work. Some object, ritual, or environment that unlocks their willingness to begin. For some it's a specific coffee cup, a particular chair, the right playlist. For me, it's this pencil.
But the specs only tell half the story. There's something almost religious about creative tools - the way certain objects become talismans. The ritual of opening a fresh box, the ceremony of the first mark. This isn't just graphite and cedar; it's carrying forward a tradition.
And there's something else: recognition. Blackwing users spot each other across coffee shops, nod knowingly at the choice. Tool obsession creates tribes that cross disciplines - the photographer with vintage lenses, the writer with fountain pens, the musician with that one guitar. We're all chasing the same thing.
Steinbeck wrote Grapes of Wrath with Blackwings and reportedly used 300 to write East of Eden. He is also responsible for both the “Steinbeck Method” (using 24 sharpened Blackwings to determine the length of a writing session) and the “Steinbeck Length” (the length at which a Blackwing becomes unusable because the ferrule rubs against your purlicue).
HT - Errol Gerson “An excuse is a carefully rehearsed lie.”