Practice
is very important to any artist. Sometimes I would read a
lot because of my longing for knowledge and I eventually neglect my practice
schedule. There are many, many good writers about Chinese calligraphy. They
combine the art with various theories from Zen, mind, virtue, religions,
literature, physics, esthetics, philosophy, and so on. Some publications are quite illuminating and
enticing. We find human being as a very interesting creature to create different
ideologies from many sects of knowledge. However, it’s common to be “high
in the eyes, low in the hands”
( 眼高手低,
a Chinese term that depicts good
insight yet not enough skills.) There is nothing improved if we don’t
actualize and just have knowledge. Some say “If you practice the wrong way,
you still have to practice.” This is quite right. However, insight should keep
us asking ourselves honestly and constantly, “Am I practicing in the right
direction?”
Any
obstacle in the complete round of the cycle of creation can weaken, disrupt, or
cripple the art. Artists may have difficulty accessing their deepest level of
insight because of technical deficiency. Thus, there should be a balance between
knowledge and application. If one is highly skilled yet lacks of insight and
depth, he is just an “artisan.” If one is both skillful and insightful, then
he is truly an artist.
I
personally arrange time in the proportion of 60% practice, 30% reading articles
and research and 10% thinking without practice and reading. Usually after I have
practiced for a while, I do some research while my mind and body need to relax a
little bit. When I get away from practice and reading, I contemplate different
topics and maybe explore possibilities.
Since
there are so many styles in Chinese calligraphy, a final word is that always
practice patiently, slowly, carefully, and systematically. Be sure to
choose a quiet time and room to practice. Try to minimize interruption by
friends, family, TV or any physical and mental deficiency. If you fuss and fume
for immediate results, you may be sadly disappointed. (Only after we have
reached a higher level, it’s not necessary to practice systematically.
Systematism is the death of spontaneity, and spontaneity is the very soul of
art.)