Feathering vs bleed-through: a deep dive into
We dosed twelve papers with the same brush pen ink. Two cracked under load. The rest told a quieter story about sizing, fibre length, and surface tension.
Six entries in motion this month. Some are short tests. One is a three-year story about a mill in Echizen. We file them as we go.
We dosed twelve papers with the same brush pen ink. Two cracked under load. The rest told a quieter story about sizing, fibre length, and surface tension.
Both are loved. Both are misused. We mapped each one against alcohol, water, fude, and gel — then noted where each paper quietly excels.
A working desk does not need to cost much. We list every tool we still reach for after years, and the items we wish we had skipped.
Alcohol ink wants a tight surface. Some specialty stocks fight it. We tested four families against six papers and recorded what bled, what bloomed.
Not every page needs to cost a small fortune. Here is the ladder we walk customers up — entry stock, mid-shelf, then the rare stuff worth saving for.
Three years of mill visits, four reformulations, and a lot of failed sheets. The story behind our first house paper, in plain prose.
We do not hide technical details behind marketing fluff. The paper either holds the ink or it does not. We say which, and why.
Every shipment is opened by hand. We log the date, the mill, the lot, and the condition of the wrap. Damaged cartons go back the same day.
Three sheets from each lot leave the box and never reach a customer. They live on the wall and meet our standard set of inks, markers, and pens.
Notes go into the studio binder. Sizing behaviour, ghosting, dry time, and tooth. The binder is older than the storefront.
Only papers that survive the binder reach the shop. The ones that do not get a quiet email back to the maker, with our notes attached.
Travel notes from Echizen, Hahnemühle, and a small studio in Jeonju. We write these slowly. The makers deserve it.
Short, dated entries on how a marker behaves on each new stock. Less essay, more lab notebook. The kind of writing we wished existed.
We answer paper questions in long form when one good answer can save a hundred wasted sheets. Send us the messy ones.