Kristi Henry

May 8, 2003

Eng 516

Lascaux, Michigan

            I wanted to write in my own blood.   I know where to find blood and I am familiar with its properties as a type of ink, thanks to one rather misguided seventh-grader.  Unfortunately, the assignment forbade my first instinct and forced me to get a little more creative. 

            Growing up, I was forced to pick berries with my parents every summer.  All of my summer memories include stained, sticky fingers.  The idea of using berries as ink was my next idea.  Since berries grow in nature and not in my veins, they replaced blood as my ‘ink.’

            My next task was to determine what I would use as a stylus.  I didn’t think my dog would approve of me cutting his hair to fashion into a brush, so that idea was quickly discarded.  While perusing my yard, I happened upon a stick.  This small stick was a fortuitous find because each end of the stick could be used differently.  One end was hard and even, so I could use it as a sort of chisel on soft material, or a stationary brush on hard material.  The other end of the stick was a bit jagged and soft.  This end would be like a painter’s brush on hard material, and virtually useless on soft material.  Two of the three supplies I had in hand; the most challenging lay ahead of me.

            The produce section at my local Kroger provided some nice blackberries for ink, but I wasn’t getting much inspiration in the form of a writing surface.  Lettuce?  Too thin and flimsy.  Corn husks?  Same problem.  Bananas?  I felt that using a banana peel was worth a shot.  If anything, I would have a nice, healthy snack while working. 

            The area of my backyard that produced the stick stylus also produced two options for a writing surface: a rock and some bark.  I choose the bark because it is a tree-product like the paper that holds this explanation.  I choose the rock because many early writings come to us on rocks or stone.  All three options fulfill the portability requirement.  Rock and bark ready to go, I ventured out of the mud and into my kitchen to begin my ‘natural text.’

To create the ink, I fashioned a crude mortar-and-pestle from a ramekin and a spoon.  I started with the ‘brush’ end of my stick.  The ink seemed to collect in between the layers of the stick.  I was reminded of brushes used to create calligraphy and the intricate characters of traditional Asian writing. 

Stick in hand, I grabbed the first of my writing surface options: the bark.  The bark was a bit soggy from the rain, so I put it in the oven for a few minutes.  Were I living in a completely natural setting, I would have used a fire.  My husband doesn’t like me setting fires in the house, so in the oven went the bark.  Once dry, I set my brush to the bark.    The bark soaked up the ink a bit, but overall, the bark and berry juice seemed to work . . . temporarily.  Once I had finished writing my text, the beginning of my text was nearly illegible.  The ink had soaked into the bark a great deal and dissipated.  I have decided to call the bark attempt “Smudge,” and let my dog chew on it.

Next came the rock.  The thin ink ran on the rock, so I washed it up nice and turned to the hard, pointed end of my stick.  I dipped it in the pulp/juice ink, and began again on my rock text.  The thicker ink left a more permanent and legible image on the rock.  It was also easier to use.  The pointed stick stylus didn’t bend as the brush stick stylus did, so I had more control over where the ink went/dripped.  Success is mine, but only as long as my rock stays out of the rain.

By this time, I had worked up an appetite and I ate my banana.  I used the pointed end of the stick to carve my text into the banana peel as in cuneiform writing.  This way of writing was the quickest.  I can see why ancient Sumerians used clay instead of banana peels, apart from the obvious lack of bananas in the Fertile Crescent.  Banana peels don’t have the permanence that comes with hardened clay.  They turn black and start to attract insects.  I decided to rename it “Garbage,” which is also where the banana peel is now located. 

The title of this short writing assignment is somewhat flawed because it gives too much credit to the Paleolithic French.  The images found in Lascaux were drawings, not writings.  We know very little of the animals depicted on the walls, but we know that written language was not achieved in the Stone Age.  I choose the title because it foreshadowed my choice of rock as the best writing surface.

So what have I learned?  First, permanence is important.  Hammurabi’s Code would be lost if written with perishable materials.  What we know of previous civilizations comes to us based on their success at documenting themselves.  How they recorded themselves is as important as the record itself because written language is a sign of an advancing civilization.  Second, I am lucky.  I am lucky to live in an era where I can sit on my couch watching Jeopardy and typing quizzes on my laptop computer.  I am lucky that I can use the technology of those who came before me.  I am lucky that I do not have to write my papers on a rock with blackberry juice.