Imagining My Next Journal Book

A collection of past journal books



My journals are a hodgepodge of both handwritten material, sketches and collage, often intermixed. Sketching is my preferred method for designing things, even for projects as simple as a holder for a paper journal. Here are some sketches representing how my idea for this project is evolving.

The lefthand drawing comes close to my final design, but with a magnetically closable flap to secure the paper inside. The righthand drawing is like a very shallow cigar box for holding the paper inside. Both designs have a smooth, hard outer surface for writing upon.

I like this design best, it would be simple to build and looks minimalist. I need to find the right material and thickness for the top writing surface, perhaps white acrylic plastic, or even sheet aluminum.

In practice, this paper-holder journal system only needs to hold enough pages for one day's outing, assuming I'm journaling away from home. I also use a variety of pens and pencils, as you can see from the above sketches; too many to fit inside the holder itself. I typically carry my frequently used writing instruments in an eyeglass case adapted for that purpose. There's also a glue stick, scissors and razor knife if I'm collaging.

I've enjoyed using these half-letter-sized sheets as a journal format, they're bigger than pocket sized, generous enough for documenting ideas, yet don't seem as gargantuan as full letter-sized pages.

I've been using 32lb. laser paper in this last handmade journal book, but despite its weight I find it bleeds a bit too much when using the Pentel brush pens, so I'm also on the lookout for a different paper, one compatible for both technical drawing as well as fountain pen and brush pen. The good thing about unbound pages is I'm not committed to using an entire book of them, should I find one kind of paper to be less than satisfactory.

Typecast via 1978 Olympia SM9.

Olympia SM9

Frontal view:


Rear view, note the dealer sticker from Olympia Typewriter Service Co. in ABQ.


This machine was made in 1978, the second to the last year the SM9 were made. This was nearly the end of the manual typewriter era, at least for the German-made Olympias.

So, how does it type you might wonder? Well, currently I only have an SM3 to compare it with, and there were many years between these two machines. I've also had two other SM9s and this machine feels very much like what I remember of those: not as tight and crisp as the early SMs, but a solid, competent typing machine.

And along with what I remember of those other SM9s, this one also exhibits intermittent spacing issues on the first letter of a word after a space. Not very often, but enough to be bothersome. I believe it's a combination of something intrinsic to the design or setup of these machines (given that all three had the same problem), and my typing style (though I've also used two-finger instead of touch-typing and have gotten the same intermittent issues). See the word "not" in the first line of the last paragraph, above; these machines just don't like a staccato typing style, but work better with a rhythmic cadence, like what a typist is ideally supposed to do, but in the real world hardly ever does to perfection. It's problems like these that make the later SM9s less than the One Perfect Machine, for me that is. They aren't very tolerant of a sloppy typing style. As to the earlier SMs, the SM3-8 generations were probably the finest of the Olympia SM series in terms of build quality and the "feel" of the machine, at least in my experience and that of others I've talked to.

These later SM9s have a very utilitarian, modern look to them. Stern-faced, corporate, button-down shirts, no laughing matter, just get the work done; and they were built to do just that. No nostalgic style cues from some earlier era, these were built for the sober post-war business machine age.

The best I can tell, it has a Modern Pica type face. Very pleasing in appearance.

There's a good chance this machine spent its entire life here in ABQ, since being sold at that Olympia dealer. It looked like it never even sat in a dusty garage, instead most likely some bedroom closet. Even the internals of the machine showed little dust, a minor miracle here in the dry, windy American southwest. Also no signs of eraser crumbs, White Out grunge on the plastic card guides or white cover-up correction flakes in the machine, just pristine cleanliness. Amazing.

In Which Joe Gets an Underwood 5

Missing decals and discolored keys, her beauty's more than skin-deep -- not bad for 103 years old!


I love the mechanical details of the manual ribbon wind sprocket!


A few hours of work and she's starting to shine. Even the bell rings!


I love how easy it is to access and adjust the spring motor tension.


The front margin rack with its "backwards" margin scale is distinctive to these Underwoods

Disassembly for cleaning involved removing the paper guide rod, paper pan, paper finger rod and front margin scale bar. Then the right platen knob was removed. Next I removed the left carriage cover which gained me access to the line spacing mechanism. The entire spacing mechanism needed to be removed, to be able to remove the platen rod, then the platen. This then gained me access to the feed rollers underneath; they are hardened and should be replaced, but I cleaned them as best I could with alcohol. I used degreaser, alcohol and careful application of a Scotch-brite pad to remove a century of greasy discoloration. For the plated metal parts I used Never-Dull metal polish (which I first discovered in the US Navy). Type bar linkages and joints were cleaned with alcohol and cotton buds.The surfaces of the keypads were cleaned with buds and a bit of alcohol; they should eventually be removed using a keyring pulling tool (that I currently lack) and new key legends printed and installed.

There's a bit of ribbon lift adjustment needing to be made, and the shifting is a bit wonky at times, something intermittently hangs up when returning to lower case. But all told, it's a fine machine considering the age. I'm amazed at the quality of materials and workmanship that went into these instruments; one reason why they are so highly desired by serious collectors and users of classic typewriters.

Underwood made many refinements in the years since this machine was built, including segment shift by the time the "SS" model had arrived in the 1940s. But this early version is the progenitor. She's not one of those pristine, perfectly-restored "cabinet queens" too precious to use. This one's a typer, a writer's instrument. Written all over her exterior are the signs of years of use. I intend on continuing in that tradition.

Evading the AI

Photograph as physical object in hand



Here are some sample Harman Direct Positive Prints, digitized via Lumix camera but only vaguely representative of holding the actual print in-hand:

Abo Ruins, Salinas National Monument, Harman Direct Positive Print, Fujinon 135 lens on Speed Graphic

Harman Direct Positive Print, Fujinon 135 lens on Speed Graphic

Perea Nature Trail, San Ysidro NM, Harman Direct Positive Print, Fujinon 135 lens on Speed Graphic

Harman Direct Positive Print, meniscus lens, 8x10 box camera

Harman Direct Positive Print, Fujinon 135 lens on Speed Graphic

Olympia SM9, Harman Direct Positive Print, Fujinon 135 lens on Speed Graphic

As you can see from the previous image, Harman Direct Positive prints, like paper negatives and also wet plate media from the 19th century, are formed on the front surface of the substrate, hence the image is reversed left-to-right. Of course I could have reversed them in post, but that'd be cheating and would also further remove them from any resemblence of their physical origin.

Finding a Place for The Petite Toy Typewriter

A few weeks ago, we had a small birthday party for our grand-daughter, at a local ice cream shoppe called I Scream Ice Cream. Bill runs the place, and he's decorated the interior chock-full of memorabilia and other artifacts from the 1950s-'70s. I don't think there's an empty place on the walls or shelves for any more artifacts.

The front seating area

Seated in Bill's ice cream shoppe, enjoying a cup of yummy goodness and eyeing all the paraphernalia of mid-20th century culture on display, it suddenly hit me that this would be a good home for that Petite Toy Typewriter, a gift from a YouTube viewer of mine, that hadn't found its way into the rest of my typewriter collection -- mainly because I don't collect artifacts to be put on display, but rather I collect functional writing tools, and the Petite, though it technically has an inked cloth ribbon, can hardly be called a serious writing tool. The Petite was basically in storage, for no one to enjoy, least of all me.

It would be safe to call I Scream Ice Cream ecclectic!

And so the week after the birthday party my wife and I headed down to I Scream Ice Cream for a snack and also an opportunity to give the typewriter to Bill. As it turns out, he already knows John Lewis, as John frequents his shop, both of them being located in the same part of town. Bill was overjoyed to receive the typewriter. I had included a sheet of paper along with carbon paper, in case someone wanted to type on it and the old ribbon was too dry. This was Bill's first toy typewriter, a fact that I found amazing, since he's managed to collect lots of other things, including one of the largest collections of transistor radios I've ever seen.


What an amazing radio collection!

This Sony, from 1953, is the oldest in Bill's collection



I've yet to revisit Bill's shop to see where he's decided to put the Petite, but will do so soon, as I have a hankering for more delicious ice cream!

Here's a video I made about the Petite Typewriter: