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Thoughts on the creation of a medium
When I was assigned to create a format for writing to take place on, I was shocked, to say the least. This project was unlike any I had encountered before in my years at school. I began to tax my brain up and down to come across a suitable way to write. I began thinking about what I could use in my very own home. Since I could not use a pen or pencil, I turned to the idea of carving my words into something, as the ancient Sumerians did. After all, as Walter Ong says, "The first script, or true writing, that we know was developed among the Sumerians in Mesopotamia [...] around the year 3500 BC." Ideas flew through my head about which medium to carve, such as wood, or even bread. The plausibility of these formats got the better of them, however. Wood would create far too much effort for a simple school assignment, not to mention be possibly hazardous to my health (I don’t exactly trust my own physical abilities to keep me uncut in that particular process.) Bread would be a problem because of the spoiling nature of its own organic makeup. Then, after much deliberation, I came to the decision of using a Styrofoam plate. It seemed a likely source for me to draw inspiration upon...after all, it was soft and malleable, perfect for leaving carven characters upon. It was small and light, providing for extremely simple transportation--in fact many could be carried at any one time. And most importantly, Styrofoam is non-biodegradable. That means that, with the proper storage and upkeep, a carved Styrofoam plate could be preserved indefinitely, leaving records for generations to come. I decided, in my carving, to create the simple greeting of "Hi There!", as it would be simple to create, simple to understand, and would allow for me to write the message in large, easy to read characters, without needing to stretch beyond one plate. However, as I was writing, I found myself strongly tempted to use pictograms as well as writing. This falls squarely in with the primordial methods that the Sumerians themselves found themselves tricked by. "It is often difficult to tell when we are dealing with writing and when with art," Dennis Baron writes of ancient Sumerian relics. Indeed, this format seems to beg to be used as not just a ledger or notepad, but as a canvas to mold into art. It is not as though making artistic messages on things originally designed for purposes such as storage or dining is unusual. In fact, quite often ancient civilizations did just that. Many archeological digs of various locations and peoples have turned up ceramic or clay plates covered in carvings and paintings. Obviously I am not the only one to have had these temptations. As I descended upon my task of plate-engraving, I felt a bit cathartic, recalling that the art I was attempting was one that had been perpetuated for hundreds of generations before me. It filled me with zest to know that my efforts duplicated those of the many that came before me. Inspired by the length of history behind my creation, I felt that to truly become the luddite that my efforts demanded, I should disavow technology in the creation of the carving itself. I chose not to use any sort of knife or blade at all, but rather to carve the writing out with my very fingernails. This task was by no means an easy one, considering my short, masculine nails, and as a result only etched the surface of the Styrofoam, rather than pierced the entirety of the plate as I had envisioned. This created a problem in that it was a bit more difficult to view my work, than if it had been completely punctured. Nevertheless, the writing can be seen upon examination. Another downfall that the medium of Styrofoam plates encounters is the fragility of the plate itself. While seeming sturdy enough to hold weight upon it, uneven pressure quickly reveals bowing and tipping, and ultimately the possibility of breakage. Simple, light, opposing pressure results in the plate snapping in two. I am sure that in the hypothetical situation of my medium of a plate as a means for communicating the written word from one person to another would survive to flourish and become the standard, then others would not hesitate to make improvements upon it to correct oversights. For example, I can easily see developments being made to make the plates far more structurally sound, allowing for a more permanent way to keep and care for the messages parlayed across the plates. More importantly, however, it is not a leap in logic to foresee the development of utensils with the soul purpose of engraving upon the plates, rather than using the base method of fingernail scratches to bring about the intended message. Thinking about these methods of betterment directed towards my medium reminds me of a quote by Mark Twain about typewriters, used in an ad for Remington Typewriters: "That early machine was full of caprices, full of defects--devilish ones. It had as many immoralities as the machine of to-day has virtues." Undoubtedly, this quote can apply to any such machine of creation, and would likely, without question, apply to plate engraving, should the medium become popular. As I ponder this project, and its ramifications, I find myself truly appreciating the art of writing, and the labor of love that must be exerted to create a new medium. How taxing it must have been for Guttenberg to create the printing press, and to translate the entirety of The Bible to his printed word. It is also no wonder that many times, medieval texts can be revered as great works of art. Not just because space is so often filled with archaic illustrations and flourishes, but because at that time, even the printed word can be seen as an art form in its rawest, most potential form. I believe that by having an appreciation for writing itself, and the work that goes into it, I truly have a greater understanding of the inner workings of the act of writing, and therefore feel as though I have accomplished more simply by writing. By having this dual appreciation for my work, both for content and for style, I can truly say that the project of creating my own medium has forced me to become not just a better writer, but indeed a better person for it.
Works Cited
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