Day 3 May 22nd Club Castlenel Castalla part 2

I chose a wonderful passage from "The Bonesetter's Daughter"

Amy Tan takes me into the world of 1930's rural china and the fascinating art of making ink.

After a long trip from the country Luling visits her father's shop to see where the ink is sold.

Then Little Uncle brought us hot tea and sweet oranges,as well as bamboo latticework fans with which to cool ourselves.
I tried to notice everything so I could later tell GaoLing what I had seen,nd tease out her envy.The floors of the shop were of dark wood,polished and clean,no dirty footprints,even though this was during the dustiest pert of the summer.
And along the walls were display cases made of wood and glass.The glass was very shiny and not one pane was broken.Within those glass cases were our silk-wrapped boxes,all our hard work.They looked so much nicer that they had in the ink-making studio at Immortal Heart village.
I saw that Father had opened several of the boxes.He set sticks and cakes and other shapes on a silk cloth covering a glass case that served as a table on which he and the customer leaned.First he pointed to a stick with a top shaped like fairy
boat and said with graceful importance,"Your writing will flow as smoothly as a keel cutting through a glassy lake."He picked up a bird shape:"your mind will soar into the clouds of higher thought."
He waved towards a row of ink cakes embellished with designs of peonies and bamboo: " Your ledgers will blossom into abundance while bamboo surrounds your quiet mind."
As he said this Precious Auntie came back into my mind. I was remembering how she taught me that everything,even ink had a purpose and a meaning:Good ink cannot be the quick kind,ready to pour out of a bottle. You can never be an artist if your work comes without effort.That is the problem from modern ink from a bottle. You do not have to think.You simply write what is swimming on the top of your brain. And the top is nothing but pond scum,dead leaves,and mosquito spawn. But when you push an inkstick along an inkstone, you take the first step to cleansing your mind and your heart.You push and you ask yourself,What are my intentions? What is in my heart that matches my mind?

I remember this, and yet that day in the ink shop, I listened to what Father was saying,and his words became far more important than anything Precious Auntie had thought."Look here," Father said to his customer ,and I looked.he held up and inkstick and rotated in the light,"See ? It is the right hue,purple-black,not brown or gray like the cheap brands you might find down the street.And listen to this."And I heard the sound as clean and pure as a small silver bell." The high pitched tone tells you that the soot is very fine,and smooth as the sliding banks of old rivers.
And the scent- can you smell the balance of strength and delicacy,the musical notes of the ink's perfume? Expensive,and everyone who sees you using it will know that it was well worth the high price."
I was very proud to hear Father speak of our family's ink this way. I sniffed the hot air.The smell of spices and camphor was very strong.

! This soot",Father continued "is far better than Anhui pine.
We make it from a kind of tree so rare that it's now forbidden to chop it down.
Luckily we have a supply felled by lightening ,blessed by the gods."Father asked the customer if he had heard about the ancient human skullcap recently unearthed from the quarry at Dragon Bone Hill.The old scholar nodded."Well we are from the village one hill over," Father explained "and the trees in our village are said to be more than a million years old!How do we know? think about it.When those million-year-old folks roamed the earth around Dragon Bone Hill,didn't they need trees to sit under,Trees for shade, Trees to make fires? Trees to build stools and tables and beds?Aha,am i right?Well then,,we,the people from the village next to Dragon Bone Hill,supplied the need."And now we are the ones who own the remains of those ancestral trees. We call them Immortal heart wood."

Father motioned to the shelves. "Now, look here,on this shelf there's only a pinch per stick,so the cost is less.In this row,two pinches.And in this case,it is almost entirely the soot of Immortal Tree wood. The ink draws easily into the brush,like nectar into a butterfly's nostril."
In the end,the customer bought several of the most expensive sticks and left the shop. I wanted to clap,as if I had just seen a play for the gods.