Ink

It is easy to take ink for granted. There is always a biro to hand, a newspaper to rub off on your fingers. Ink is everywhere; in fact approximately one-thousandth of the world’s surface is ink. But a quick look at the history books shows this was not always the case.

In the 16th Century sailors at sea would often run out of ink while writing to their loved ones, a problem compounded by the illiteracy suffered by the majority of seamen. We often joke of captains keeping live octopuses in a tray on their desks in which they could dip their pen-nibs. But the book Collected Diaries of Men at Sea in the 16th Century provides us with some first-hand accounts of life at sea which show this wasn't entirely far from the truth.

According to several entries recorded in this volume, many seamen believed octopuses, with their personal stock of natural writing-ink and “many hands for writinge”, were in fact “the ultimite men of letters” from whom they might divine not only a constantly-replenishing supply of ink but also the much-coveted ability to read and write. To gain this power and release the ink, sailors were required to “enter” the octopus “with his manhoode”, a practice which, according to one of the more well-written logs, was “not altogether unpleasante” as “the creature proves as moiste & plyante as a maiden”.

Upon finding this did nothing to improve their literacy skills, the sailors would be forced to repeat the practice “a thousande times a week” until they were “driven raving mad by the mocking Many-hand’d Man of Letters” and his “refusale to release the Juices of his sweete Literacy”. From a few of the logs it seems that several sailors were so intent on their practice that they began to forget why they were employing the octopuses in the first place, with several feverish entries devoted entirely to descriptions like “the tendere touch of his nippl’d arm...” and “a smile, daresaye, in his fine ladys eyes... like four fine ladys of marry'ing age clasping ther moiste arms arounde me all at once... & reduc'd me to jelly’d man & waves of tears”.

Ink is everywhere, but there may come a day when it is not. The next time your pen bursts in your pocket, spare a thought for the men at sea, our brave Royal Navy, whose own diaries will undoubtedly be read in 400 years' time.

Images

I have been asked to refocus this blog and address issues more relevant to printmaking and publishing. When thinking of printmaking one cannot help but think immediately of ‘images’. Indeed we think of ‘images’ when we think of anything, for what is everything that we see but ‘images’? Sometimes I feel like I see so many images day to day that my eyes will start to bleed, a condition called Subconjunctival Haemorrhage.

There are, of course, different ways of absorbing images. Images can be divided into two groups, ones you choose to look at and ones you are forced to look at. Given the choice, you would generally choose to avoid looking at images of mutilated animals, but someone could easily make you look at these images using force.

Sometimes you can see an image from far away and perceive it one way, only to approach it and perceive it another way entirely. You can see a poster on a wall depicting what looks from a distance to be a dog wearing a baseball cap, only to wander closer and find it is an image of a dead dog, and there is no baseball cap. Similarly, the nuts and bolts of an image can affect your judgement of the image as a whole. It is one thing to see an image of a circle, but your impression will be very different if that circle is made out of erections.

A printmaker works in images, they are his bread and butter, the same way pheasants are a pheasant breeder’s bread and butter, the same way crime is a gangster’s bread and butter. If there is one crime that a printmaker can commit, it is failing to take in every single image of the world – good or bad, pretty or grotesque – in their entirety.

4th reply from the RSPB

Dear Mr Chianta,

If you have any real issues to bring to the attention of the RSPB concerning fowl or game, then I am happy to be of assistance. Otherwise I must kindly ask you to stop emailing me.

Yours sincerely,

Rhod Turley
Fowl & Game Officer, RSPB

6th email to the RSPB

1st November 2010

Dear Mr Turley,

Thanks for your email. I must say I’m a little shocked by your lack of concern. What further atrocities could this Mr Hawker possibly commit before the RSPB are willing to step in?

Best,

P Chianta

3rd reply from RSPB

Dear Mr Chianta,

I’m sorry I can’t be of more help in this instance.

Yours sincerely,

Rhod Turley
Fowl & Game Officer, RSPB

5th email to the RSPB

28th October 2010

Dear Mr Turley,

I was wondering if you received my emails, dated September 13th and October 8th, regarding Mr Hawker's employee? I'm sure you will agree that this is a matter that requires urgent attention.

I understand that you must be very busy and thank you again for your time.

Best,

P Chianta

4th email to the RSPB

8th October 2010

Dear Mr Turley,

I was wondering if you received my email, dated September 13th, regarding Mr Hawker's employee? I understand that you must be very busy and thank you again for your time.

Yours,

P Chianta

3rd email to the RSPB / Shocking email from one of Hawker's employees

13th September 2010

Dear Mr Turley,

Thank you for getting back to me. Please find below a shocking email I received from one of Mr Hawker’s employees providing first-hand account of abuse of his pheasants. The details are quite startling and I assume this is more than sufficient evidence for the RSPB to pay him a visit.

Yours,

P Chianta


Dear Mr Chianta,

Yes I work for Mr Hawker and I just hope he isn’t reading this somehow because if he found out that I was writing to you like this he would surely sack me.

It is as you feared: the abuse of pheasants at the pheasant farm is widespread. Here are some specific examples of abuse:

1. Hawker himself enjoys kicking the pheasants around, sometimes he bowls them “like bowling balls”, he says, using the other pheasants as sort of skittles. Nobody really watches him bowl.

2. Sometimes he makes us stuff the pheasants while they’re still alive so they have to go their whole life stuffed waiting to be killed and cooked if you can imagine such a thing.

3. Sometimes he plucks a pheasant so it’s all bald.

4. If he comes home drunk he will take a trip to the pheasant coop, sneak up on one particular sleeping pheasant and then scream WAKE UP!!! in the pheasant’s ear. One pheasant died from fright at this and Hawker still ate him.

5. He keeps baby pheasants in his pocket and takes them out to squeeze them when he’s thinking hard about something, and he does a lot of thinking.

6. He once chloroformed a pheasant and then drove it out to South End in his Lamborghini.

7. He once posted a pheasant to South End.

8. Once he brought a baby pheasant to a rock concert and held it next to the speaker.

9. He says all the time that he hates pheasants and he’d “love to see them all wiped off the face of this earth”.

10. He drew a Tom Selleck style moustache on one pheasant and kept him apart from the rest.

11. He buckled an old female pheasant into the passenger seat of his Lamborghini and took her for a joyride so that she nearly had a heart attack.

12. He left an old female pheasant in his Lamborghini all night without any food or water.

13. He kept one pheasant flying for ages above the ground – he calls this “albatrossing”.

14. Once he brought a baby pheasant to a rock concert and gave it to the band without any advice of how to look after it.

Most crucially, he keeps saying “The RSPB will never come and investigate me, boys, we can do what we bloody well like with these ridiculous pheasants!” He says this all the time, so you can imagine I was RELIEVED to receive your email. Please do NOT mention my name as he would definitely sack me or worse if he knew!

Good luck!

[NAME REMOVED]
Employee, Hawker Pheasant Farm

2nd reply from the RSPB

Dear Mr Chianta,

I'm afraid there's nothing more the RSPB can do at this stage. Generally we don't tend to perform inspections of farms unless a formal complaint has been raised by someone with either first or second-hand evidence of cruelty towards an animal . Really the tone of Mr Hawker's emails wouldn't be enough to justify an inspection.

I'm sorry I can't be of more help, and my apologies for the delay in getting back to you.

Best,

Rhod Turley
Fowl and Game Officer, RSPB

2nd email to the RSPB

18th August 2010

Dear Mr Turley,

I wrote to the RSPB on the 22nd July regarding a pheasant I spotted in my North London garden and you kindly wrote back suggesting I contact Mr Hawker, my nearest pheasant breeder. I did as you suggested, but unfortunately found Mr Hawker less than forthcoming.

I can't help discerning, in his emails, a degree of something approaching nervous guilt (please see below) and our correspondence seems to have hit a bit of a brick wall. Is there perhaps some official inspection that could be made of his pheasant farm by the RSPB? I can't help feeling it's quite necessary.

I know you must be very busy and thank you once again for your time!

Very best wishes,

P Chianta

2nd email to Mr Hawker

18th August 2010

Dear Mr Hawker,

I appreciate your sensitivity in this matter but assure you it was never my intention to cast doubt on the adequacy of your facilities; I was merely attempting to comprehend how a bird indigenous to the countryside managed to smuggle itself into a North London garden. I just thought you might want to check with your employees, if you have employees, in case someone spotted a pheasant leaving your grounds that morning, but clearly it was wrong of me to assume this.

I'm sorry to have disturbed you.

Best wishes,

P Chianta

2nd reply from Mr Hawker

Dear Mr Chianta,

Listen my pheasants are as comfortable as can be - they have everything a bird could want and more. They've never “wandered from the fold” as you put it in your letter, because basically why would they want to? Would you “wander from the fold” if you were staying in a five-star hotel? No you wouldn't, you'd probably stay and have a spa.

That's the end of it thanks.

Hawker

Email to Mr Hawker

11th August 2010

Dear Mr Hawker,

Thanks for your reply, and I apologise for bothering you about this. Are you really sure you wouldn’t like to check? I only ask because in the time it took you to respond to my letter, I’ve made a few calls and confirmed that you are most definitely the nearest pheasant breeder to me.

Once again, I’m sorry to bother you about this! I know you must be busy.

Many thanks again for your time.

All the best Mr Hawker,

P Chianta

Reply from Mr Hawker

Dear Mr Chianta,

That was definitely not one of my pheasants thanks. I don’t even need to check.

Hawker

Letter to Mr Hawker

26th July 2010

Dear Mr Hawker,

On the morning of Thursday 22nd July I was making coffee in my kitchen when I happened to gaze out the window and notice, on the wall separating the downstairs garden from our right-hand neighbours... a pheasant! Now, I’ve lived in North London for years and while I’ve seen plenty of rats, maybe even millions, the idea of a pheasant making itself known in this or any surrounding area is surely the stuff of Hans Christian Andersen (a famous writer)!

I have contacted the RSPB, who suggested that I get in touch with you. Perhaps one of your pheasants has wandered from the fold? I only take such a keen interest because as a former birdwatcher I fear for the safety of a rogue pheasant in this fox-heavy borough!

I know you must be extremely busy, but I thank you for your time and look forward to hearing from you.

Best wishes,

P Chianta