????讓我們面對現(xiàn)實(shí)吧：當(dāng)你用筆在紙上寫下一行字，把石墨或墨水凝成的字跡留在一張白紙上，總會產(chǎn)生一種說不清道不明的感覺。這一系列涂鴉變成了一種思想的體現(xiàn)。隨著你的思想寫寫劃劃、刪刪改改，你的手也忙個(gè)不停。書寫這套動(dòng)作，已經(jīng)成為思考過程的一部分。

????科技奇跡般地縮短了這些步驟。電腦和平板電腦（以及鍵盤、鼠標(biāo)、電容屏甚至語音識別軟件等）使我們可以更快地進(jìn)行思維的創(chuàng)造。但問題是，有些時(shí)候，我們的意識還沒有跟上科技創(chuàng)新的腳步。所以為了讓正確的創(chuàng)意噴涌而出，有時(shí)候我們不得不放慢腳步，來一點(diǎn)“低科技”作為佐料。

????作為一個(gè)依靠盯著閃爍的光標(biāo)（它似乎總是比我快一步）討生活的人，我經(jīng)常發(fā)現(xiàn)自己對微軟Word之類的軟件有抵觸情緒。我不是在吹噓自己有格調(diào)，不過我認(rèn)為書寫是一種舒適的行為，但是隨著數(shù)字化的發(fā)展，這一點(diǎn)經(jīng)常被人忽略了。（呃，米蘭人除外，做Moleskine高檔筆記本的那群家伙似乎懂得這一點(diǎn)。）

????不管你信不信，一些科技公司也意識到了這個(gè)問題。比如微軟等公司就花費(fèi)大量精力，試圖在平板電腦上模擬用紙筆寫字的感覺。這也是為什么微軟要把Surface Pen當(dāng)作Surface Pro 3平板電腦的主要賣點(diǎn)之一。我在早些時(shí)候的一篇專欄文章中曾寫道，Surface Pen的表現(xiàn)讓我非常驚艷。前一陣我去日本出差時(shí)也帶著它參加了一場又一場的會議，不斷有人問我：“這是什么筆？”（下一句話經(jīng)常就是：“它能在iPad上用嗎？”）

????當(dāng)然，Surface Pen是不能在iPad上用的，它的專有軟件只在微軟的產(chǎn)品上兼容。不過問的人多了，我就開始搜索有沒有和Surface Pen的體驗(yàn)差不多、甚至接近傳統(tǒng)紙筆書寫感覺的iPad專用筆。

????我首先找到的是FiftyThree公司推出的Pencil筆（售價(jià)60美元以上），它的造型讓人聯(lián)想起木工鉛筆，胡桃木加鉛筆芯的搭配更強(qiáng)化了這種感覺。筆尖一端有一個(gè)軟軟的橡膠頭，用來在iPad顯示屏上寫字；筆端有另一個(gè)接觸點(diǎn)，模擬的是橡皮擦的功能。借助一個(gè)藍(lán)牙4.0傳感器，它可以探測筆尖的壓力（通過軟件可以轉(zhuǎn)換成筆跡的粗細(xì)），也可以探測到你是在使用筆尖還是使用橡皮擦，同時(shí)也可以避免當(dāng)你把手放在屏幕上時(shí)，出現(xiàn)不合時(shí)宜的涂鴉。

????Let’s face it: there is an inexplicable bond created when you slide a pencil or pen across a piece of paper, leaving traces of graphite or ink on what was once a blank canvas. That series of scratches coalesce to form a manifestation of an idea. As your mind scribbles and erases and scribbles some more, so does your hand. The physical steps become a part of the mental process.

????Technology has done wonders to reduce these steps. Computers and tablets (and keyboards and mice and capacitive displays and even speech recognition software) help us more quickly create. The problem, it seems, is that sometimes our minds aren’t quite up to speed. We need a little low-tech resistance to make the right ideas flow.

????As someone who makes a living staring at a blinking cursor that seems to always be a step ahead of me, I often find myself retreating to—if you’ll permit me saying so, here on this website—the analog version of Microsoft Word. Not to romanticize it, but writing is an intimate act, and that aspect is often overlooked as digitization marches on. (Well, except in Milan. The folks at Moleskineseem to get it.)

????Believe it or not, technology companies seem to be aware of the problem. Microsoft, among others, is putting a lot of effort into replicating the familiarity of pen and paper on a layer of pixels below a slab of glass. It’s one reason why the company touted the Surface Pen as a primary selling point for its Surface Pro 3 tablet. As you may recall from an earlier column, I was veryimpressed with how it performed, and as I went from meeting to meeting with it during a trip to Japan, people continued to approach me and ask: “What stylus is that?” (Which was often followed by: “Does it work with the iPad?”)

????The Surface Pen does not work with an iPad, of course—its proprietary software is Microsoft-compatible only. But the inquiries set me on a search to find an iPad stylus that could replicate the experience of the Surface Pen and, by extension, the conventional pencil or pen.

????My search began with Pencil from FiftyThree ($60 and up). Its chiseled form is reminiscent of a carpenter’s pencil, and its walnut or graphite housing underscores the reference. On the business end you’ll find a soft rubber tip designed to glide across an iPad display; the butt of the tool offers another contact point that’s meant to duplicate an eraser. Thanks to a Bluetooth 4.0 sensor, the implement can detect tip pressure (which, through software, translates to line thickness), determine when the eraser end is in use, and eliminate any errant doodling when you rest your palm on the screen.