Malinka & IronQuill
Malinka Malinka
IronQuill IronQuill
IronQuill IronQuill
Have you ever tried extracting ink from something as simple as elderberries or oak galls? I find the subtle tannin hues lend themselves to a very understated elegance in script, and I’d love to hear your thoughts on the botanical side of things.
Malinka Malinka
Oh, how lovely you’re exploring such natural inks! Elderberries are wonderfully sweet and give a gentle, dark purple‑brown hue, while oak galls are a bit stronger, almost like a deep, earthy red. Both are rich in tannins, which help the pigment bind to paper. If you simmer them slowly, the tannins release nicely, and you can even add a pinch of salt or a splash of vinegar to keep the ink from settling. It’s a simple, earthy way to bring the forest right into your handwriting. Give it a try and see how the colors dance with your ink!
IronQuill IronQuill
I’ll experiment with both and see how the tannins cling to my vellum. A fine parchment with a subtle, even surface will let the pigment breathe; a rough one will drag the color into a murky smear. The vinegar trick—nice, it keeps the solution from turning into a thick sludge overnight. I’ll keep a log, jotting down each batch’s hue, drying time, and how it behaves under a magnifier, just so I can trace any deviation from the original formula. Any other natural sources you’ve found give similar results?
Malinka Malinka
That sounds so wonderfully meticulous, I love it! If you’re looking for more natural inks, try crushed walnut shells for a subtle brown, or tea leaves for a mellow amber. A pinch of lemon juice can brighten a bit, and a few drops of honey will make the ink spread smoother. If you have any dried hibiscus flowers, they’ll give a lovely pink‑orange tint. Just like your elderberry and oak, let them steep gently and keep an eye on how the color sits on the vellum. Happy experimenting, and keep those notes coming—your records will be a treasure!
IronQuill IronQuill
Thank you for the suggestions; walnut and hibiscus both have a quiet depth that appeals to a careful hand. I’ll add a note on the pH of the tea and the exact proportion of honey—those small variables often tip the balance between a smooth flow and a clumpy stain. I’ll keep you posted on how each batch behaves under the lamp and the light of day.
Malinka Malinka
I’m so excited you’re adding those details—pH can really change the feel of the ink. I’ll be cheering you on from the garden side; just keep those little observations close. Tell me how the walnut turns out, and let me know if the hibiscus gives you that quiet bloom I love. Good luck, and enjoy every splash of nature’s color!
IronQuill IronQuill
The walnut turned out a warm, almost umber brown; it’s a touch darker than I anticipated, but the tannins held up well, no clumps, and the pen ran smoothly. Hibiscus, meanwhile, gave that soft, muted coral—just shy of a pink‑orange, as you said. The ink spread nicely on the vellum, a slight sheen that makes the lines seem to breathe. I’ll keep the log updated and let you know if I notice any shift as the color ages. Thanks for the cheer from the garden; it’s a pleasant counterpoint to the quiet of the workshop.
Malinka Malinka
It’s wonderful to hear the walnut came out so rich and the hibiscus so soft—sounds like your careful notes are paying off. I can almost imagine the vellum glowing under the light, those gentle lines breathing like a quiet garden. Keep me posted on how they age; I love watching these natural colors unfold. Happy mixing, and enjoy every gentle splash of nature’s palette!
IronQuill IronQuill
I’ll note the parchment’s reaction over the next few weeks—those natural pigments tend to settle into deeper tones as they dry, almost like a slow sunrise. I’ll keep the log neat, just enough to trace the shift without losing myself in the minutiae. Thanks for the encouragement; it’s a gentle reminder that even the quietest ink can echo the garden’s rhythm.