“Finding Beauty in the Bends” is the slogan set by Teacher Zhiyang for this year. The character “彎” (bend) resonates with the Year of the Snake in both form and meaning, while tactfully avoiding cultural taboos surrounding snakes in Chinese tradition. Beyond its depiction of the artistic nuances in calligraphic brushstrokes, the phrase invites exploration through natural landscapes and philosophical reflections on life’s journey. Today, let us appreciate the diverse beauty born from bends through multiple lenses-artistic, natural, and existential.
Ink Trails: The Force and Negative Space in Calligraphic Lines.
Gaze intently at a piece of cursive script calligraphy, and you might marvel at the flow of ink-the brush tip darting like wind, pausing like mountains, each stroke concealing silent breaths. As calligrapher Lin Sanzhi said, “Straight lines are easy; curves demand mastery.” It is precisely the “three bends in a single stroke” that imbue characters with sinew and vitality.
In Wang Xizhi’s Preface to the Orchid Pavilion, every character swims like fish in water, lines weaving rhythms of void and substance through contraction and release. Teacher Zhiyang embodies this philosophy-each brushstroke prioritizes not formality, but the beauty born of curvature. True calligraphic beauty lies not in rigid horizontals or verticals, but in the “hidden tip” at turns: the brush slightly tilted, force restrained, akin to the unspoken depths of a sage’s words.
Sentient Flora: Vitality in the Bend
In spring, vines spiral up bamboo trellises like musical staves etched in air. Botanists note how trees fortify their trunks with extra lignin when buffeted by gales, transforming bends into bastions of strength.
Observe the cliffside pines: their branches yield to fierce winds, then spring back with resilience. Each typhoon’s assault etches growth rings dense with lignin at stress points. Japanese artisans revere such storm-marked wood as “Arashi-mon” (storm grain), where tempestuous patterns become treasured natural carvings on teahouse beams.
Bamboo embodies “resilient flexibility” in Eastern culture. Su Dongpo’s verse-“Even before emerging from soil, it bears nodes; reaching cloud heights, it remains hollow-hearted”-reveals the philosophy behind its bends: hollow internodes accommodate storms, while seemingly humble drooping serves as self-preservation and energy storage under pressure. His declaration “Better to dine without meat than dwell without bamboo” stems from admiration for this “bending without breaking” integrity. True resilience lies not in brute resistance, but in adapting posture amid tempests.
Finding Vastness in the Bend
Huizi said to Zhuangzi: “I have a great tree people call the shu. Its trunk is gnarled beyond measurement, its branches twisted beyond compass. Though standing by the road, carpenters scorn it. Your words, too, are grandiose yet useless-all dismiss them.”
Zhuangzi replied: “Now that you possess this ‘useless’ tree, why not plant it in the Land of Nothingness, the Wilderness of Boundless? Wander idly by its side, rest freely beneath its shade. No axe will shorten its days, no harm will befall it. Being of no use-how could this cause distress?”
(Excerpt from Zhuangzi: Free and Easy Wandering)
Revisiting Zhuangzi: Free and Easy Wandering, I find new resonance in the tale of the giant shu tree-its gnarled form, scorned by carpenters, escapes the axe to thrive freely. Modern society’s obsession with “straight-line efficiency” reveals a hollowness over time.
Teacher Zhiyang’s driftwood creations, reborn from twisted forms and weathered textures, lose commercial value yet hold what merchants overlook: curved branches become ergonomic handles; cracked surfaces reveal raw beauty; a touch of polish and a planted flower transform them into exquisite bonsai, embodying post-rebirth grace.
Driftwood Brush Rest by Teacher Zhiyang
In this age of speed and productivity, we need the courage to “find beauty in bends.” The turns of calligraphic strokes, the resilience of plants, and Zhuangzi’s “useless tree” all whisper the same truth: true strength lies in embracing life’s detours. As the ancient verse goes, “Beyond mountains and rivers lies a village”-the winding path may lead to vistas unseen.
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