Big Updates from the Char & Bloom Ink

This past week has been a huge leap forward for Char & Bloom. What started with me petitioning local shops has now turned into conversations with retailers nationwide. Multiple stores have asked for samples, and some are already looking to stock Char & Bloom inks in their locations. I even reached out to friends and shops on the West Coast, swinging for the fences and aiming big. It feels like the vision of getting this carbon-negative, sustainable ink into the hands of artists everywhere is truly starting to take shape.

Studio Progress

On the production side, things are running ahead of schedule. Right now, I’ve got about 10 kilos of dry pigment ready to go, enough to fill orders for the next five months. That means I’m well ahead of my production ceiling and positioned to scale up quickly. Currently, I produce around 2 kilos of pigment per month, which translates to roughly 200 bottles of 50ml ink. With just a little extra push, I can double or even triple that output on my own.

I’m also experimenting with a new waterproof formula, so expect to see another line of ink added soon. And long-term, I’m pushing toward an even bigger milestone: investing in a homogenizer or nano bead mill to produce fountain pen and technical pen ink. As someone who primarily draws with technical pens, this would be a huge personal achievement as well as a business expansion.

The Zero-Waste Breakthrough

One of the most exciting breakthroughs recently has been solving my “water problem.” After filtering pigment, I was left with excess water. Now, by adjusting the pH, I can repurpose it as a carbon-balanced soil, garden, and crop tonic. It’s completely natural and works like a fertilizer. Early tests have gone great (nothing has died yet, so I’m counting that as a win!). In the next month or two, I’ll have more data on how it impacts growth and yield.

This means Char & Bloom is now officially zero waste, every part of the process is reused or recycled. Down the line, when I’m trimming my own trees for pigment, I’ll be able to use this tonic on the very same trees, creating a full-circle, regenerative system.

Moving Forward

Right now, my biggest focus is driving sales as quickly as possible to pay down the debt I took on to build this business. But I’ve never been more excited—or more committed. My days are basically: wake up, head to the studio, make ink, come home and draw with it, record content, edit, and spread the word online.

Char & Bloom is about more than just ink. It’s about making something better for artists and better for the planet. This is just the beginning, and I’m giving it everything I’ve got.

The Line Is Finished -- Now It’s Time to Move

I finally finished the entire ink palette -- Brush Calligraphy and Fine Calligraphy -- both from scratch, crafted from wood charcoal I refine myself. No pre-mixed pigment, no chemical dyes -- only nearby wood, fire, and determination.

There were lots of failures in between -- batches that failed to set, mixtures that failed to mix properly, days where it all seemed to be slipping out of my hands. But I did not give up. I learned. I adapted. I rebuilt from scratch more times than I can count -- and now the formulas work.

Right as I was completing production, the contract work I had been relying on came to a close -- the project was done, and so was my salary. I had two choices -- scramble for another project, or double up on what I'd already done. I chose to roll the dice on myself and develop Char & Bloom.

I've been reaching out to retailers -- small art supply stores, boutiques, whoever comes to mind who might be interested in what I'm producing. The Etsy shop is up, listing is in progress, and I have pigment stored and ready to go out the door if orders arrive. I have some 700 lbs of raw wood -- crepe myrtle and persimmon -- and I'm preparing to get more charcoal batches done with my refined pyrolysis rig.

I sent test samples of ink out to testers and I'm just waiting to get feedback -- performance notes, criticism, good and bad. I require honest critiques so I can put the finishing touches on. I need these inks to be perfect -- smooth flow, clean line, rich black.

I'm currently waking up at 3AM -- at the studio at 4, putting in work until about noon. Then I head home and shift gears -- editing video, capturing drawing footage, applying to jobs, managing all the plates. The only thing is, I took money out to start this business -- so there's a timer ticking. But instead of letting it intimidate me, I'm using it to stay motivated -- pushing myself to present this brand, this work, at its best.

I built it from the ground up. Now it's time to put it into hands.

-- Steve

Char & Bloom: From Ashes to Ink

I didn’t think I’d get this far.

No, seriously. When I first started crushing charcoal in my studio, trying to make something that looked remotely like ink, I didn’t have a blueprint. I didn’t have capital. I didn’t have a team. What I did have was a busted spine, a rusted shot put I used as a mill, and the kind of stubborn ADHD-fueled energy that only kicks in when something finally feels worth doing.

Char & Bloom didn’t come from ambition. It came from necessity. From silence. From being stuck in a body that wasn’t cooperating, watching the clock tick, wondering if I’d ever get to make something real again.

And now? Now I’m making pigment from crepe myrtle branches I processed myself — using homemade systems for sieving, drying, vacuum filtering, centrifuging. I built a full-on lab setup out of literal grit and YouTube tabs. Every single ink bottle, every charcoal stick, every slurry batch has passed through my hands and under my breath. I’m not just making art supplies — I’m building a regenerative system that’s carbon negative and beautiful as hell.

I’ve Messed Up — A Lot

Let’s be real. I’ve over-diluted batches. I’ve let pigment cake too thick and cracked it. I’ve watched a dehydrator run for three days straight only to realize I could’ve saved half the time with better workflow planning. I’ve had hot glue contamination from early batches I shouldn’t have trusted. I spent money I didn’t have. I’ve gone broke more times than I’ll admit and questioned if any of this was even worth it.

But every mistake taught me something — about patience, about chemistry, about how far I can stretch a dollar when I need to. About how long ink takes to cure. About how 6% pigment in a calligraphy ink might just be the sweet spot. About how to shake a bottle not too often, not too little, and what "settling in" really looks like.

I learned to respect the process. To grind when I had nothing left. To dry pigment like I was tending to something sacred. To fail smarter next time.

I’m Not Just Making Ink. I’m Making a Future.

There’s a bigger reason I’m doing this. Not just to pay rent or escape the algorithm’s shadow. I’m making ink that doesn’t harm the planet — pigment born from trees I’ve trimmed, not felled. I’m building a business I can grow slow and steady, without selling out or burning out.

And I’m not doing it in some high-end facility. I’m doing it in a small studio with no running water, a dehumidifier I call a friend, and a production system split into phases so my ADHD doesn’t chew me alive. Every ounce of charcoal I use, I made. Every formula I test is mine. I’ve got retail pricing dialed in, wholesale models that make sense, and a deep respect for the people who’ll use my ink to create something real.

And let me tell you — seeing that first bottle come together, testing that first stroke of archival black across watercolor paper… it brought me back. Not just to art, but to myself.

If You’re Reading This, You’re Probably on Your Own Path Too

So here’s what I’ll say, from someone still in the thick of it:

You don’t have to have it all figured out. You just have to start. Be willing to mess it up, fix it, learn, and keep moving. Treat your setbacks like seasoning — bitter, but necessary. Stay curious. Stay grounded. Don’t rush the cure.

And if you ever feel like it’s too much, remember this: I built an ink company from dead branches, filtered it with tools I hacked together, and made something beautiful from literal ashes.

You can build your thing too.

This is Char & Bloom. This is just the beginning.

— SG

Char & Bloom

Starting something I always was curious about. Making my own ink. Char & Bloom is a all natural ink using local resources and crepe myrtle charcoal as the main pigment. The goal is to be sustainable while providing a boutique ink that has characteristics professional artists will love. I’ll have the first vial ready for testing come early May 2025. I will use these posts as a way to document my journey. I have been making my own drawing charcoal for about a decade now. I just kinda put 2 and 2 together finally. I will be expanding into other products such as compressed charcoal and calligraphy inks. Heck, I might even bottle the excess charcoal powder and sell it as a stand alone product. So this is it, this officially marks the beginning of my journey into ink making. I have already committed to buying the correct filtration and setup to become successful. My goal is to work with local stores initially and also work in tandem with local lawn care services for my supply of crepe myrtle branches. I’ll be using local honey and oils to add to the sustainable appeal. Eventually if I get the opportunity I want to have a zero waste system in place but I have got to make enough to get up to that level. I’d even like to collect things like the vapors given off in the charcoal making process, but I’d need a condenser and licensing. All of which is just a dream. With your support maybe we can make that a reality. Making high quality art products like Char & Bloom completely friendly to the environment. I’d like to eventually grow my own crepe myrtle trees on my own land to make it better. Maybe even have my own bee hives to harvest honey. But for now I am working with what is given to me. Being as eco-friendly as I can with aspirations of a cleaner world and premium art supplies for everyone to use. I’ll be back with a little update once I have the first vial ready for testing.