Friday, February 22, 2008

Cai Yong "The Nine Techniques"

九势 蔡邕

夫书肇于自然,自然既立,阴阳生焉;阴阳既生,形势出矣。藏头护尾,力在字中,下笔用力,肌肤之丽。故曰:势莱不可止,势去不可遏,惟笔软则奇怪生焉。凡落笔结字,上皆覆下,下以承上,使其形势递相映带,无使势背。转笔,宜左右回顾,无使节目孤露。藏锋,点画出入之迹,欲左先右,至回左亦尔。藏头,圆笔属纸,今笔心常在点画中行。护尾,画点势尽,力收之。疾势,出于啄磔之中,又在竖笔紧 之内。掠笔,在于趱锋峻 用之。涩势,在于紧 战行之法。横鳞,竖勒之规。此名九势,得之虽无师授,亦能妙合古人,须墨功多,即造妙境耳。

As for the emergence of writing from nature: when nature was already established, yin and yang were born from it. When yin and yang were complete, form and technique emerged. Hiding the head and protecting the tail, keeping strength in the center of the character, using strength when bringing the brush down, this is how flesh and muscle are made beautiful. Therefore I say that when these techniques begin, they cannot be stopped, and when these techniques go, they cannot be held back, and only when the brush is soft may the unique and wonderful be born of it.

1.) When writing characters the upper must contain the lower, and the lower must support the upper, this causes the form and technique to be mutually carried along and reflected, without any contention between them.

2.) When turning the brush, the correct left movement will return to the right and vice versa. In this way the strokes and empty spaces in the characters will seem integrated.

3.) Hid the tip of your brush: when entering a dot, if you desire to go left you must first go right. When leaving a dot one must likewise return to the left.

4.) When hiding the head, use the round brush technique: keep the tip of your brush in the center of the stroke.

5.) When protecting the tail, the ends of strokes and dots should properly contain their strength.

6.) The swift technique emerges from downward sweeping strokes, and also from keeping vertical leaps tight.

7.) When picking up the brush, use a quick vertical motion.

8.) The rough technique is in moving with the intensity of a horse in battle.

9.) Keep vertical and horizontal strokes solidly connected.

This is called the nine techniques. Obtain these techniques even if there is no master to instruct you, and you can be excellent like the people of ancient times. Your accomplishments with brush and ink must be numerous: it is precisely creation that is wonderful and that is all.

Saturday, February 9, 2008

The Owl Bar

It was a long day at the government accountability office. My mind was dull from reading reports and editing proposals. I continually worried, but without any depth or detail, about the town meeting that was to take place tomorrow. During the meeting I was to present on the protection of wetlands, an issue that had come to the fore since representatives of Mahl Wert came to town with their development plan.

I placed the banana peel in the compost bin, poured a glass of water, and took my glass and bowl of yogurt to the dinner table. My biggest flaw was a love of breakfast, causing much teasing by my co-workers when I ate, for example, raisin bran for lunch. After I finished my dinner I felt energized, so I fetched my outline for tomorrows talk and began to go over key points.

Just then a movement in the corner of my eye caused me to look at the front door. There was a great white shape standing there, but the refection of the kitchen on the glass obscured it so that I could not make out exactly what it was. It tapped on the glass. More curious than frightened, I got up from the table, walked to the door, and pulled it all the way open.

A great white owl stood in front of me, at least five feet tall, its enormous eyes staring right at me. I stood silent for a moment, observing this great creature, until it lifted a single wing and two small acorn caps fell out. I picked them up and inspected them. The center of each cap was carved intricately in a network of tunnels as if by tiny worms. I looked at the owl inquisitively and it shook its ears vigorously.

Going with my intuition, I put the acorn caps into my ears. All of a sudden the night chorus was transformed. The chirping of frogs and insects became a din of chatting, courting, singing and fighting.

“Would you like to get a drink with me Alex?” Said the Owl.

This was not at all what I expected but, flattered, I decided to go along with the Owl’s invitation.

“Yes, sir…”

“Owaynu.”

“Sir Owaynu, I would be delighted.”

Owaynu Turned around, I put my arms around his neck, and off we flew into the night sky. At first I lifted my head to watch my house slip away behind me and the cars growing smaller beneath me, but the wind was cold so I pressed my face into Owaynu’s soft feathers. His flight was so smooth and soundless that soon I fell asleep.

“Wake up! We are almost there!” Cried Owaynu.

I opened my eyes, and for a moment I forgot where I was and nearly fell off Owaynu’s back with fright. We were weaving between giant hemlocks and beech trees, and I saw as we rose above the canopy that we were on top of a large hill. We settled down on a balcony of woven branches.

What I perceived in front of me is hard to describe, it was similar to a tree house, but instead of materials being nested in the trees to form a structure, it appeared as though the very trunks and branches had grown into the shape of a home.

“This is a very high-class bar,” said Owanayu, “it was made over hundreds of years by slowly guiding and pruning the trees.”

There was a large cat sitting by the entrance who was staring at me not too nicely.

“Don’t worry about him,” said Owanyu, “it’s his job to be suspicious.”

The inside of the place looked somewhat like a log cabin, with a bar in the back and small irregular shaped tables. There were a few owls in the place, another cat, and a man in a military uniform drinking alone. Owanyu ordered us some drinks and we sat down at a table together.

“So, where exactly are we?” I asked, not fully expecting an answer.

“A military reservation.” Replied Owanyu. “When the country started to be over-developed, owls needed a safe place to go, so we made a deal with the military. These bars are off limits to most people except for a few military men, but even they stay clear for the most part.”

“So why did you invite me here tonight?” I asked

“Because we owls respect what you do. In return for these bars, we give the military information about certain individuals. For some reason they have you listed as a threat, but I know, for I was assigned to spy on you, about your business and how you protect the environment.”

“Well, I’m glad someone pays attention to my work.”

I turned my head to see the ghostly eyes of a barn owl staring at me from across the room. Just then our drinks arrived, dark reddish-brown drinks with little carbonation. I took a sip, it was an earthy lambic with a hint of tartness.

“Mmm, this is delicious!” I say

“Indeed,” replied Owanyu, “all the drinks here are made with wild ingredients.”

We sat there for a good hour, drinking and talking about people Owanyu had spied on. He had a pretty good grasp on human nature, but I could tell it was learned and not native: people-watching was merely his job. Nevertheless his views had the profundity and clarity of an outside perspective.

“This bar is closing soon, but I know another one that’s open all night if you’d like.” Said Owanyu.

Still flattered by my unexpected companion, and now a little tipsy, I heartily approved.

As I wrapped my arms around Owanyu’s neck a second time, I thought of something: “Isn’t it dangerous to fly after drinking?” I asked.

Owanyu laughed and replied: “No, flight is very much second nature to me by now.”

We swooped down out of the tree-bar, flew down the hill and into a deep crevice. Owanyu settled on a rock outcropping on the side of a sheer cliff. I stood in front of a great cave where owls, wolves, and raccoons were drinking and singing merrily. When they saw me the whole bar went silent.

“Why do you bring an earth-choker here Owanyu?” Snarled a wolf.

“He may be human but he is also an environmentalist,” replied the owl. “He is currently trying to save the Uru-Klonger wetlands from being developed.”

The wolf looked at me in disbelief.

“You’re trying to stop development?” He asked.

“Yes, I understand that many rare species make their home in those wetlands, and that, furthermore, they act as a conduit between… um… the adjacent woods, that allows migrating species safe passage.” I replied

“You know those species are rare only because your species has wiped them out!” The wolf said.

“Yes, I know that.”

The wolf looked at me for a moment, walked to the back of the bar, and returned with a cup of lambic.

“Drink up buddy.” He said, handing me the cup. I drank long into the night, listening to the songs of the wolf. I met another owl, named Uoduao, a ragged looking great horned owl who spoke vaguely about the moon. Owanyu explained that Uoduao was not used to talking to humans, which is what makes his speech so hard to understand.

The next day I awoke with a slight headache. Resting on my nightstand were two acorn caps, the insides carved into a network of tunnels as if by ravenous mites. These two tokens are the greatest, and only gift, I have received for attempting to preserve my hometowns forests.

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