I felt a teeny spot of inspiration today – the first day of the school holidays (for me). Given it hasn’t happened recently, I grabbed the moment before it left again!

Following my ink-making workshop last week (as mentioned here – with artist Kate Temple, hosted by Cample Line) which I enjoyed immensely (it got rid of a thumping heidache…), I decided to act! Having hung out the washing, I gathered a few fallen witch hazel (Hamamelis) leaves. (I’ve written about my love for Witch Hazel here, but only gave a fleeting mention of its autumnal colours.)

To rival the stunning sulphurous winter spectacle, my Hamamelis displays a wonderful exhibition in autumn. No enhancement necessary – this is how my phone/camera captured the colours:

Each individual leaf boasts a real riotous rainbow – a treat I appreciate every year.

The leaves still clinging on to the tree were still holding on to their green.  The fallen leaves were mostly orangey red. I collected the most vibrant orange ones and popped them in a pot, unsure what to expect. I’d had a conversation with a friend and fellow ink-shop attendee about making ink from autumn leaves… We’d wondered if the changing hues would transfer to the ink?

Souper seepage/ Oozing orange

A wee bit of a gentle boil later…

And the colour in the witch hazel leaves did indeed leach into the water! Fascinating to watch the colour leave the leaves in a short space of time; the leaves left a somewhat peely wally version of their former selves.

An added bonus – the smell! Reminiscent of chilly, damp, wrapped up autumn walks, kicking through piles of leaves. Difficult to describe, but instantly evocative! The kitchen smelled wonderful!

I had a wee taste too – as you do…

If you’ve ever licked a sloe – the sensation was similar! Does tannin have a taste? If so – this is it! That dry tongue thing – that makes your cheeks implode! Not quite tart, bitter nor sour – a particular dry icky licky thing all of its own!

Concentrating colour

Checking my workshop notes, the next thing to do with the ‘stew’ is a reduction. The golden glow began to intensify into toffee-apple tones as I evaporated the water off. This is an ‘evaporated ink’, as opposed to a ‘raw (uncooked) ink’. Evaporated inks, according to my notes, should be more consistent (i.e. won’t change in time/ with light – more later).

As per instructions, I added some gum arabic. Another time I might not use sandpaper to powder the crystal as I had to fish out wee pieces of the sand! The gum arabic is added to improve the consistency of the ink. Another time I’d experiment with more.

I retrieved a particularly poor (in terms of paper quality) sketch book from under my microwave. Perfect for a bit of a test with the ink. I’d used it a few years ago to press leaves and grasses. I knew there were some Hamamelis leaves in there somewhere! Interestingly, they’d turned a similar shade to the ink.

It was with some disappointment that I noted that the ink seemed to lose its vibrancy after a wee while – perhaps something to do with oxidisation or temperature? (I failed my O’Grade chemistry!). However, I sketched some inky leaves regardless.

Leafy doodles

I am keen to find out about the light fastness of inks – i.e. if they fade/ change in the light. I can confirm that my shaggy ink cap ink, which has sat in Malcolm’s window for over a year, is completely light fast! Hooray!

So… I have made a bit of a ‘screen’ to check if this witch hazel ink will fade. It is a bit flappy (see ‘paper quality’ above), but if I stick it down in places, I think there will be enough ink exposed/ covered to ‘spot the difference’.

I shall report back!