Forests as Pens, Oceans as Ink: The Ink Heritage of Tibet
At Toling Monastery, there is a hand-copied version of the *Twenty-Five Thousand Prajnaparamita Sutras* dating to the 13th–14th century. Its pages feature skillful ink calligraphy alongside vivid paintings of various deities. རྩི་ཤིང་དང་ནགས་ཚལ་ལ་སྨྱུག་གུར་བྱས། རྒྱ་མཚོ་ཆེན་པོ་སྣག་ཚར་བྱས། ས་ཆེན་པོ་ལ་ཤོག་བུར་བྱས་ཤིང་། བྲིས་ཀྱང་མི་ཟད་པ་ཡིན། Forests and trees are turned into pens; the vast ocean is turned into ink; the great earth is turned into paper—and still, their writing never comes to an end.
In debates over "paper books vs. e-books", the "charm of ink" is a common argument. Since all writing is done with ink on materials such as paper, a distinct ink smell has always accompanied the reading experience of past eras. Meanwhile, in the poetry collection of Jigten Sumgon, the Great Master of the Direct Lineage, Pakdzhepa Doje Jep offers this metaphor: "In distinguishing between the wise Banjhida and the virtuous yogi, Banjhida is compared to a fruit-bearing tree, While the virtuous yogi is likened to a jewel embedded within a rock.
In Tibet's classical era, the "four treasures of the study" consisted of a writing board, pen, colored ink, and ink itself. Within the Tibetan language, ink is commonly called སྣག་ཚ་ (snag tsha), a term that may be loosely interpreted as "dried black substance," though this reading is debated. Notably, the related words སྨག་ (smag; dim) and ནག་ (nag; black) also stem from the same lexical sphere. As with other writing instruments in Tibet, ink is produced by mixing dry powder with water. The origins of ink are typically associated with the era of Thumi Sangpo.
Three categories are used when determining an ink's origin: local, Central Plains, and South Asian styles. The Central Plains tradition is linked to black ink, whereas South Asia is more closely associated with multi-colored ink. A separate classification, based on color and material, also divides ink into three types: regular black ink (an independent system), gold and silver ink, and multi-colored precious ink. These same groupings show up in technical research, where they are generally placed within the field of "pigment studies".
Ink for woodblock printing was divided into four quality grades. In classical Tibet, the finest grade was considered beyond price. Rulers of territories that possessed scripture-printing institutes, for example the Kings/Tusi of Dege and Jonang, spent heavily on purchasing powdered ink. Some of these rulers were themselves master ink artisans, as was the case with the 9th Jonang King, Tsewang Dondrup (ཚེ་དབང་དོན་གྲུབ་; 1642–1680). For more on "pigment studies", please refer to the color studies series.
Among the five common narratives about ink in traditional Tibetan cognition, one is 'Fine ink’s fragrance enchants beings of the three realms,' often likened to 'the scent of wisdom/monastic virtue'; its aroma is said to soothe those afflicted by the three poisons. Another narrative, 'Ink holds an ocean of wisdom,' teaches that ink must be approached with reverence because it may transcribe scriptures, decrees, or legends. In this view, the wise perceive mind-nature in a drop of ink, while ordinary people grasp impermanence through inked words. The overarching saying is 'Good ink demands worthy wisdom.
Under the heading "Vermilion ink reveals dharma," Tibet regards cinnabar liquid (ཐེའུ་སྣག་) and red seals (མཚལ་ཐམ་) as forms of ink—the former to emphasize sacred texts, the latter to validate worldly laws. Meanwhile, in "Formless ink and formed ink," beyond the usual components, spirits are said to craft ink from Raksha blood-ink, Naga treasure-ink, and Dakini rainbow-ink, a matter particularly noted in terma texts and biographies.
5. In particular texts, the multicolored inks derived from jewels—pearl-white, turquoise-green, coral-red—conjure transcendent contexts, as captured by the phrase: "Five colors manifest five wisdoms; seven hues reveal seven treasures.
Ink-making traditions from the Central Plains reached Tibet through newly established trade routes, and many surviving classics on ink production and color mixing are said to originate from Tang, Kun, and Song Dongjing Bianliang. Although procedures differ somewhat across Tibet's various regions, existing craftsmanship manuals allow the process to be organized into four main stages: the selection of materials, the procurement of materials, the formulation of the ink, and the testing of the final product. Where material selection is concerned, wood is burned for oil, minerals are processed for pigment, and qingke yields black residue, with spruce and oil pine being the most common raw sources, while animal excrement is also used in lower-quality inks. For material procurement, ingredients are scraped, fried, baked, soaked, squeezed, and ground until filtered and dried, with butter playing an indispensable part in the process, though the specific tools vary from region to region. In the ink-making formula (སྣག་ཚའི་སྦྱོར་ཐབས་), brown sugar, red latex, various medicines, and numerous precious treasures are introduced to the ink so as to preserve its durability while also adding color and fragrance. Once the ink is prepared, it is evaluated by specialists who are highly skilled in calligraphy and ink application. If the ink is meant to serve as a guide for Tibetan woodblock printing, techniques for removing ink stains and preventing ink from mixing are also taken into consideration. For seal ink, three distinct methods are recorded, while cinnabar ink, or red ink, has two commonly used preparation methods. These examples, however, touch on only a small portion of the whole field. Such high-quality ink is said to be transformative, virtuous, and long-lasting (འཕྲུལ་ལྡན་པ་/དགེ་ལེགས་པ་/རྟག་ཐུབ་པ་). This article is translated from SuolangWangqing's blog.