The Mo Shui Hua Ke Cheng of An Jiu Jing usually begins in silence. Paper on the table. Ink breathing in a small dish. Lesson one is not normally about beauty. It’s about control. Or better to say lose control in a controlled fashion. You get to know the behavior of ink before attempting to control it. Compare class packages and more details are available inside.
The early classes are tool-oriented. Brushes with personalities. Some snap back like elastic. Others melt into the paper. You practice holding the brush erectly. That alone feels awkward. Similar to how I was taught to eat with chopsticks once more. Teachers usually say, Let the wrist drop. Easier said than done.
Then come lines. Straight lines. Crooked lines. Lines that shake since your hand is jittery. This part humbles everyone. You make strokes, strokes in a row. Five minutes it is tedious. Then something clicks. The line begins to listen to you.
Ink dilution follows. Water joins in the conversation. Excessively, and the ink is gossipy. Too little, and it sulks. This is gradually disintegrated in a structured class. No rush. One shade at a time. Light grey today. Deeper tones next week.
Subjects appear gradually. Bamboo. Rocks. Orchids. Not because they are pretty but because they are disciplining. Bamboo trains rhythm. Rocks teach weight. Flowers test patience. When the leaf is painted too fast, it is dead. A painted leaf is a living thing.
Mistakes are frequent. Ink does not forgive. There’s no eraser. That’s the point. Students usually laugh when a mountain resembles a potato. Humor becomes survival. Everyone messes up. Even the confident ones.
Critique meetings may be stinging and helpful. Feedback is specific. “This stroke hesitates.” “This space feels crowded.” Nobody sugarcoats. Enhancement relies on integrity. With time, you get to know how to identify problems before others.
The lapses of weeks make freedom structure. Muscles are built up by repetition. Rules start to bend. You paint faster. Then slower. You experiment. Man will one day have your brush do what your mind fancied.