I have number of pens. I keep them with me and use them when I can. I have found I do so much better with a real piece of paper. It is real, it has substance, it does innocently disappear behind Spider Solitaire.
I of course love my fountain pens. Love the ink the blotches, the purple inky fingers. I love the way they write, the way they make me write. I don't mind the mess, the lack of ink at the most inopportune time. I love the bottles I have to care around and the look on the TSA guy's face when he opens a bottle still does not understand.
Good paper, good ink, good friends. It is a good thing. I am going through drawers and boxes. Who knows what will show up in your mail box.