They say you should start a business doing what you love, but apparently, I love juggling fountain pens and medical tape while tethered to a dialysis machine.
Welcome to My Analog Heart!
This project is being built in the beautiful, messy intersection of home hemodialysis and a deep-seated obsession with analog stationery. Based here in Oakville, Ontario, I’m currently in the planning phase. Which is a polite way of saying my desk is a disaster zone of Pilot fountain pens, premium paper samples, and a phone camera trying to capture the chaos.
The search for the perfect tactile feedback
Over the past few months, I’ve turned my personal hobby into a professional field study, visiting stationery boutiques across Ontario to observe how different environments influence the creative process. My constant companion on these trips is a pocket-sized Rhodia notebook.(Photo Below) There is something ritualistic about flipping open that orange cover; it’s a high-grade, 80g acid-free paper that provides a consistent baseline for every pen I test.
I’ve found myself increasingly drawn to the mechanics of the “glide.” While I started this journey as a fountain pen purist, I’ve developed a deep appreciation for the engineering behind modern gel pens. On the right surface, a high-quality gel ink—like a 0.38mm tip—offers an incredibly satisfying, frictionless flow that feels almost therapeutic.
I’ll admit, if you saw me in a shop, I might look a bit obsessive. I spend a lot of time “scribbling” on test sheets for no apparent reason. But as any stationery enthusiast knows, you aren’t just checking if the pen works; you’re testing the feedback of the paper, the vibration of the nib, and the saturation of the ink. It’s not weird—it’s technical research for My Analog Heart. To build a curated collection for others, I first have to understand the physics of the “perfect write” myself.
Turning Professional Conflict into Creative Independence
I spent my career in television production, so I know a good story needs conflict. Right now, my personal narrative is a tug-of-war: “Brain Fog vs. Business Logistics.” Being a dialysis patient means my schedule is dictated by a machine and a treatment chair. However, there’s a specific clarity that comes with self-cannulating—the process of poking myself with large needles for treatment. The logic is simple: if I can handle the physical and mental toll of home hemodialysis, I can certainly handle a GST/HST business application and building My Analog Heart from scratch.
But the conflict goes deeper than just medical schedules. Over the past few months, I’ve faced the quiet, frustrating reality of the modern job market. I’ve sat through countless interviews, drawing on my years of TV production expertise, only to be met with the deafening silence of “no call backs.” No one says it out loud—they can’t—but you feel it. There is an unspoken hesitation to hire someone who requires “maintenance.”
When you are a “sick person” in a traditional corporate structure, you’re often viewed as a liability rather than an asset. It’s a subtle discrimination that is felt in the tone of an interviewer’s voice or the way the conversation shifts when schedule flexibility is mentioned.
This is exactly why My Analog Heart has become more than just a stationery shop; it is my act of defiance. If the traditional world doesn’t want to hire a sick person, I will build a world where my health doesn’t define my value. I am taking the technical precision I used in the edit suite and applying it to WordPress SEO, wholesale sourcing, and product curation. I’m not just building a business because I love pens—I’m building it because I deserve a career that respects my reality.
www.myanalogheart.com
www.myanalogheart.ca
Why stationery?
In a life that feels increasingly clinical, the glide of a fountain pen or a solid ballpoint sketch feels real. It’s tactile. It’s grounded. It’s the antidote to the “patient” label.
Whether it’s testing Midori MD notebooks or practicing calligraphy drills, I’m documenting the whole ride for the My Analog Heart Substack and our upcoming WordPress shop. I’m sharing the sketches (mostly bad), the business hurdles (mostly confusing), and the reality of building a boutique art supply brand when energy levels are low.
The Future of my analog heart in oakville
We officially secured our domain and are currently contacting stationery wholesalers and local retailers. I’m glad you’re here for the journey. It’s going to be a bit of a mess, but at least it’ll be written in a really nice ink.
Thanks for reading!