Learn Japanese Calligraphy as Moving Meditation

Learn Japanese Calligraphy as Moving Meditation
Click on the image above to order your copy of The Japanese Way of the Artist. Including extensive illustrations and an all-new introduction by the author, The Japanese Way of the Artist (Stone Bridge Press, September 2007) anthologizes three complete, out-of-print works by the Director of the Sennin Foundation Center for Japanese Cultural Arts. With penetrating insight into the universe of Japanese spiritual, artistic, and martial traditions, H. E. Davey explores everything from karate to calligraphy, ikebana to tea, demonstrating how all traditional Japanese arts share the same spiritual goals: serenity, mind/body harmony, awareness, and a sense of connection to the universe.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Integrating Shodo & Meditation--Part Two


Mind and Body Unification and Shodo
While not everyone wants to study Zen with shodo, most shodo practitioners can still benefit from the practice of meditation and vice versa. Shodo requires a unification of mind, body, and brush similar to the meditative condition.

Many artistic principles and important mental states are universal for the various Japanese Ways. One of the most significant and basic principles that these arts share is the concept of mind and body coordination. While few of us are required to use a brush in daily life, most people are interested in realizing their full potential and enhancing their psychological condition as well as physical health. Since integrating mind and body allows us to accomplish these aims, the relationship between the mind and body, along with how to achieve mind-body harmony, is a main theme in classical Japanese art.


In the case of painting, some adherents speak of a "unity of mind and brush," and make statements, which indicate that "if the mind is correct, the brush is correct." In Japanese swordsmanship, it’s common to hear of a unity of mind, body, and sword. Likewise in Zen, students are encouraged to arrive at mind and body coordination, a state of "self-harmony." These assertions point to the necessity of integrating mind and body in action. Mental and physical harmony is also vital for realizing our potential in daily living, and it remains a central element needed for mastery of any classical Japanese Way.

Yet this concept has rarely been directly articulated in shodo or most other Japanese arts. Students learn it—if they learn it—through years of trial and error. Along similar lines, although teachers may indicate that they view shodo, budo, and other disciplines as equivalent to meditation, exactly how to integrate brush writing and meditation isn’t always explained. Again, students are encouraged to arrive at understanding through years of training and experimentation . . . experiments that don’t always produce results.

Shodo and Shin-shin-toitsu-do
Shin-shin-toitsu-do was created by Nakamura Tempu Sensei in the early 1900s. After living in India, he combined his training in Indian yoga and meditation with Japanese approaches to meditation to arrive at something entirely new and distinctive—an art featuring several methods of seated and moving meditation to help us realize our full potential in a wide variety of subjects. The emphasis is on unification of mind and body, and he logically called his creation Shin-shin-toitsu-do, “The Way of Mind and Body Unification.”

This meditative state of self-harmony is indispensable for producing high caliber fine art. As “proof” of the effectiveness of mind and body unification, after founding Shin-shin-toitsu-do, Nakamura Sensei began creating singular calligraphy and sumi-e painting that’s valued by collectors even now.


However, he was clear that Shin-shin-toitsu-do is not a religion, and he held that it’s not necessary to participate in organized religion to learn about and benefit from meditation. He additionally felt that sitting for long hours of sometimes painful meditation wasn’t always or invariably needed. And along the same lines, Nakamura Sensei explained that unification of mind and body in any activity could be realized through a rational process that uses concretely explained principles and simple experiments, and which is similar to scientific methods.

Because of the ease with which he explained how to immediately coordinate the mind and body, experts in a wide variety of classical arts attended his classes until he passed away in 1968. From martial arts like aikido to fine arts like shodo, students and teachers of traditional Japanese arts learned to simply explain what had been unexplained or hidden for centuries. Yet these teachings of mind and body unification are still little-known outside of Japan.

Integrated Shodo and Meditation
Hiseki Davey Sensei began studying meditation via Shin-shin-toitsu-do in childhood, and his practice continues to this day. His training in Japan and the USA has taken place under several top students of Nakamura Sensei, and Davey Sensei’s book on this subject, Japanese Yoga: The Way of Dynamic Meditation, has been acclaimed in Japanese, European, and American reviews.

He began studying shodo in the mid-1980s. By using principles of mind and body unification in shodo, he made rapid progress, achieving the top ranking in Ranseki Sho Juku calligraphy in 1993. It took him just seven years.


Since the 1960s, only a handful of people obtained this level of teaching certification, typically after around 15 years of study. Davey Sensei, despite his initial lack of fluency in Japanese, accomplished this in half the usual time. According to his teacher, the legendary and late Kobara Ranseki Sensei, he attained Shihan-dai teaching certification faster than any other student in the history of Ranseki Sho Juku shodo ever did. It is a feat that’s still unequalled.

Both Kobara Sensei and Davey Sensei attributed his rapid progress to his prior advanced meditation training in Shin-shin-toitsu-do. They both acknowledged the importance of coordinating mind and body. Without this ability, the mind may see a Japanese character to be copied and practiced, but the body can be unwilling to effectively reproduce what’s in the mind. It’s as if the mind and body are resisting each other.

Yet when the mind and body work in harmony, images in the mind and ink images on paper match. No skill is possible until this state of harmony is attained.

Realizing the effectiveness of using mind and body coordination principles in art, and with the acknowledgement of his teachers of Shin-shin-toitsu-do and shodo, in 1993 Davey Sensei began linking Shin-shin-toitsu-do principles and Japanese calligraphy. He calls this instructional approach Integrated Shodo & Meditation. It emphasizes group classes in Shin-shin-toitsu-do, combined with private lessons in Japanese calligraphy and ink painting, in which he logically explains how to unite mind, body, and brush. Previous knowledge of shodo, meditation, and/or Japanese language isn’t needed. (Although students are encouraged to familiarize themselves with reading, writing, and speaking Japanese, this can take place as they study shodo.)

His instruction in meditation and shodo is spiritual in nature, but it has no direct connection to any organized religion. Meditation in his classes can take place in various postures, depending on which position is most comfortable for the student, and prolonged hours of seated meditation are not emphasized. Instead, students discover meditation in action—with a brush—and how to integrate the meditative state into daily activities. Davey Sensei also makes no claims of “elevated consciousness” or “Master” status and practices alongside his students.

Using simple concepts, he shows how mind and body unification can be utilized in many different endeavors to increase effectiveness. Borrowing from Shin-shin-toitsu-do, his training centers on fundamental principles of mind and body coordination:

Four Basic Principles to Unify Mind and Body
1. Use the mind positively.
2. Use the mind with full concentration.
3. Use the body obeying the laws of nature.
4. Train the body progressively, systematically, and regularly.


In 1999, to further spread shodo, and to help fellow artists understand how to unify mind and body for greater efficiency, Davey Sensei authored Brush Meditation: A Japanese Way to Mind & Body Harmony. In it, he outlined five concepts used in Integrated Shodo & Meditation:

Primary Principles for Brush Control & Meditation
1. Grip the brush gently and focus your ki (“life energy”) through the brush tip.
2. Before touching the paper, the tip of the brush must be calm.
3. Relax to let the brush move naturally and with rhythm.
4. The brush follows the movement of ki.
5. Do not cut off your stream of attention.

Despite the new and ground-breaking nature of Integrated Shodo & Meditation, Davey Sensei maintains its connection to classical Japanese aesthetics and philosophy as well as orthodox shodo as it has been handed down for generations in China and later Japan. His use of meditation and mind-body unification concepts makes shodo easier to learn and more appealing to Westerners, but it doesn’t remove it from the realm of traditional Japanese art. Indeed, the idea of mind and body coordination in art is very old in Japan, if not inevitably simply explained.

To further explain shodo to the West, in 2008 the Art of Shodo Blog was launched. If you are interested in studying Japanese calligraphy, you can find out how to learn Integrated Shodo & Meditation at http://www.senninfoundation.com/.

Integrating Shodo & Meditation--Part One

In 1993, Hiseki Davey Sensei introduced a new program at the Sennin Foundation Center for Japanese Cultural Arts in California (http://www.senninfoundation.com/). Called Integrated Shodo & Meditation; it continues to this day, and you can read about this program in his books Brush Meditation: A Japanese Way to Mind & Body Harmony and The Japanese Way of the Artist (Stone Bridge Press).
For now, however, let’s examine the evolution of shodo and Japanese arts, as this makes the relationship between shodo and meditation more clear.


Japanese Art as a Way
Many Japanese art forms end in the term Do, which means the “Way” in the sense of a right and natural Way of living. Stemming from the Chinese idea of the Tao, or the “Way of the universe,” ancient Japanese culture spiritualized a number of everyday activities, allowing them to become moving meditation. Thus cha no yu (“tea ceremony”) became chado—the “Way of tea.” Likewise, budo equals the “martial Way,” shodo is the “Way of calligraphy,” and kado is the “Way of flower arrangement.” The designation Do indicates that these arts can help us realize deeper concentration, calmness, relaxation, and willpower in life. In short, the Do in shodo suggests that artists can move from the art of brush calligraphy to the art of living itself, and the same can be said for other Do forms.
Using “Do” to describe seemingly unrelated activities also indicates that these arts are based on connected principles. Many aesthetics of Japanese dance, for instance, are also found in sumi-e painting. The correct posture discovered in martial arts is also the right posture for brushing Japanese calligraphic art. And the calm and immovable spirit underlying one art of old Japan underlies them all.
Among the most vital of these ubiquitous concepts underlying Japanese art forms are universal principles focusing on coordination of mind and body. When such principles are internalized and understood, arts like shodo can be practiced as meditation, leading to calmness in action. More than this, these principles of mind and body unification can be applied to everyday experience to live well (as opposed to merely existing). When shodo is approached in this manner, it becomes not only dynamic meditation but also an exploration of what it means to live our very lives as art.

The Universal in the Particular
As noted, Japan has traditionally excelled (due in part to the predominance of Zen) in "spiritualizing" comparatively ordinary activities such as brush writing and the martial arts. One's ultimate aim in these Do forms is to perceive the whole of life through a particular enterprise or individual part of living. Master calligrapher, Zen adept, and founder of Muto Ryu swordsmanship, Yamaoka Tesshu, indicated that one of his main martial teachings was "the practice of unifying particulars and universals." He also wrote in his Notes on Kumitachi: "Within these varied techniques there is deep meaning. Cast off subject and object, function as one; abandon self and others, form a single sword." (John Stevens, The Sword of No-Sword, Boulder and London: Shambhala, 1984, p. 142.) D. T. Suzuki, author of numerous books on Zen and Japanese art, likewise made reference to "the One in the Many and the Many in the One."
We can consider a specific technique, or exercise to be copied, as a "particular." In shodo we do not copy a new character exclusively to learn to paint that symbol; and in sumi-e, we aren’t striving to make an accurate copy of bamboo or a bonfire solely to learn to paint these individual pictures. Contained within a given lesson or particular technique is the essence of all techniques. We imitate a particular form to grasp universal principles that allow the technique to work in the first place, and which will finally enable us to transcend the form itself to discover the formless. In doing so, it’s possible to observe that these principles encompass something greater than the individual art we’re studying and amount to lessons in living.

Shodo for the West
Shodo's Japanese aesthetics and universal principles serve to enhance the appreciation and understanding of other Japanese arts, and they can also impact how Western art is engaged in. Owing to this, shodo is making inroads into Western culture, and it’s because of the universal aspects of this art, some of which are detailed above, that Westerners are participating in shodo in growing numbers. Numerous Americans and Europeans are also drawn to shodo's "spiritual message," which is likewise universal in appeal.
Based on the number of teachers of other spiritual disciplines and Japanese arts found in shodo classes, it’s clear that anyone can utilize shodo for personal transformation, a transformation that can then be used in a specific art or calling. This, historically, has been a motivating factor for the gradual emergence of shodo in the West.
Calligraphy teaches us to realize a condition of comprehensive self-mastery. Western and Japanese practitioners of shodo cite expanded attention, improved peacefulness, stronger willpower, and deeper relaxation as just some advantages of their training. This is what inspires many Japanese devotees to partake in calligraphy instruction in the first place. Classes aren’t taken exclusively to better handwriting, as is regularly postulated; rather, Japanese students realize the personal gains that this spiritual discipline offers, advantages that make shodo tantalizing to many Westerners.

But how, historically speaking, did shodo find its way to the West? Americans appear to have first had contact with shodo and sumi-e, to any great degree, following WW II. American artists were searching beyond the limitations of their culture for motivation. Shodo, in general, served as inspiration to numerous Abstract Expressionist painters of the period. Coinciding with this was avant-garde interest, in the late 1940s and '50s, in Zen meditation. Beat poetry was also influenced by Zen and other forms of Buddhism—often as a reaction against materialism.
Abstract Expressionists, such as Franz Kline, frequently worked in black and white, having been affected by monochromatic shodo and minimalist aspects of Zen. At present, famed artists like Robert Motherwell, who has written of his lifelong interest in shodo, and Cleve Gray, are executing works reminiscent of Japanese calligraphy. Motherwell, in addition, produced a series of paintings entitled "Shem the Pen Man," in homage to an expert calligrapher. They feature a calligraphic ideograph suspended in a plot of color.
John Graham, author of System and Dialects of Art, has stressed spontaneous gesture and ecriture, a French word meaning "calligraphy." He suggested individualized ecriture should evoke innovation in a calligraphic fashion that made use of "accidents." Graham, in turn, discovered and influenced Jackson Pollack, Willem de Kooning, Lee Krasner, and David Smith—four of the greatest Abstract Expressionists, who all produced works reminiscent of Japanese calligraphy. Al Reinhardt as well, when he broke away from Cubism in the '40s, turned to shodo for inspiration.
This is natural, in that, shodo and ink painting contain elements ideally matched with Abstract Expressionism. Japanese artists and calligraphers noticed what was taking place in American art of the forties and fifties and were influenced by Abstract Expressionism. In 1951, noted artist Hasegawa Saburo wrote of Franz Kline's work and the fashion in which Asian art was altering Abstract Expressionism. This, along with other articles, began to effect Japanese calligraphers and painters, who started using abstract art for inspiration. In light of the above, it’s evident that contemporary shodo is a spontaneous creative gesture that has as much in common with Abstract Expressionism as it does with the written word.
Once explained, the parallels and historical links between Abstract Expressionism and shodo allow many Western people, who are interested in fine art, to more easily relate to Japanese calligraphy. And when such people further understand how shodo functions as self-realization and meditation, they often want to learn more about this art form.
This is because in shodo, unlike certain activities, one’s degree of mental power also becomes clearly and instantaneously seeable. Shodo makes the immaterial palpable via smooth and elegant monochromatic designs. A person’s character is laid open through the brush, which, though less efficient than a pencil, is a potent device for discovering the smallest wavering of mind or body. The pliant strands of hair in the fude, or “brush,” give birth to radiant, natural symbols, which surpass divisions in nationality. Given, then, the universal character of this ancient way of the brush, and because of its pragmatic advantages, it’s fairly clear why this art leapt from Japan only to land on the shores of 21st century Europe and North America.

Meditation and the Brush
While many Westerners can more easily appreciate shodo when they understand how it parallels abstract art, perhaps shodo’s greatest appeal for people outside of Japan lies in its practice as moving meditation. Because shodo deals with Japanese language, and because it’s not a household name in the West, some individuals are intimidated by the seeming “foreignness” of this age-old art. Yet meditation, and the enhancement of calmness and concentration that are its byproducts, has wide appeal. It’s the meditative aspect of Japanese calligraphy that the West seems to most easily identify with.
Meditation allows us to see, understand, and control the mind. As the result, it is ideally paired with shodo, an exacting discipline that requires exceptional concentration and self-control.

And while shodo can function as moving meditation, it’s easier to enter into meditation while sitting still. Thus, students can initially discover meditation sitting in repose, then learn to maintain the meditative state in motion through shodo, and finally sustain this condition of consciousness in everyday activities. Evolving from seated meditation to moving meditation in shodo equals a program for realizing calmness in action.
Meditation practice is clearly valuable to shodo and sumi-e students. That said, shodo and Japanese graphic arts also have much to offer practitioners of meditation.
Meditation involves the mind, but the actions of the mind are invisible. Fortunately the body reflects our mental state. Nervousness can be seen via a tapping foot, while calmness can be witnessed in posture and facial expressions. And whatever the body contacts also expresses the innermost workings of the mind. The way we drive a car or shut a door also reveals anger, composure, and other emotions.
For this reason, shodo experts have long held that calligraphy is an ink painting of the mind. It allows students to immediately see lapses in calmness and concentration. Lines of characters that veer off the page display a wandering mind, and wobbling lines evidence a nervous hand. All of this makes it easier to see into our true nature, a nature that’s only visible through the body. Since direct seeing into reality also lies at the heart of meditation, shodo is particularly useful to meditators.
The shodo-meditation connection isn’t new. It has been acknowledged in Japan, where Zen meditation and calligraphy have a lengthy association.

Zen and Shodo
When people hear about Integrated Shodo & Meditation, they often wonder if this program of instruction has a direct connection to Zen. It does not.
Still, it’s a logical question, in that Zen meditation does have a lengthy history of utilizing shodo as “applied Zen.” Zen is a well-respected school of Buddhism that was founded in the sixth century in India. Its founder was a monk named Bodhidharma (Daruma in Japanese). Shortly after founding Zen, he left for China around 520 A.D. In China, according to tradition, Daruma sat facing a wall for nine years until he achieved enlightenment.
The term Zen comes from the Chinese word Ch'an, a derivation of the Sanskrit Dhyana. The monks Eisai (1141-1215) and Dogen (1200-1253) introduced Zen into Japan from China. Japan’s military ruling class embraced it, and with its message of salvation through meditation, it made inroads into Japanese life. Zen's emphasis on being free from cerebral questioning, and attainment of oneness with the universe, influenced the Japanese cultural matrix, and many aesthetic qualities have a historical correlation to Zen.
Due to its influence in Japan, Zen has also affected Japanese arts such as the tea ceremony and shodo. For some time in Japan, Zen priests (and the public as well) have believed that calligraphy is a direct extension of the mind. Zen has always emphasized "Zen in daily life," in other words, relating the meditative state to everyday activities. As the result, Zen adepts have been expected to be capable of displaying enlightenment through brush writing. Indeed, a number of them, such as Hakuin and Yamaoka Tesshu, were outstanding calligraphers and painters.
Owing to this, Zensho (“Zen calligraphy”) has been valued by the Japanese public, despite the fact that while many Zen monks may be well-trained in Zen, this depth of training hasn’t always carried over into their artistic pursuits. (To put it bluntly, it’s a mistake to think that all art work produced by Zen priests is automatically high-caliber, even if it’s confidently and spontaneously executed.)
Zen, naturally, has influenced Japanese brush writing, like other aspects of Japanese culture, and there’s been some borrowing of terminology. Zen first came into prominence in the West following WWII, when it was embraced by the Beat Generation. Along with an interest in Zen, came an interest in Zen art, including Zen calligraphy. In short, Zen is intimately entangled with the history of shodo in Japan and America.
Nevertheless, it’s important to note that most schools of calligraphy don’t identify themselves as Zensho, and while the calligraphy in Art of Shodo may be derived from a source of inspiration similar to the "spirit of Zen," it isn’t Zensho. Though some overlap of terminology and ideas may be present, Integrated Shodo & Meditation does not deal with Zen Buddhism per se, but perhaps material in its curriculum can be said to be "imbued with Zen" in a broad and generic sense.

Shodo and Religion
If Zen meditation has long been associated with shodo, why create a new program of instruction like Integrated Shodo & Meditation? The reasons are several and simple.
Despite many English language books on Zen, and although the Western public displays interest in this topic, relatively few Americans and Europeans participate seriously in Zen. In other words, when comparing the number of Zen books sold with the much smaller number of people engaging in ongoing meditation for long hours in authentic Zendo (Zen meditation halls), there’s an obvious discrepancy.
Actually sitting in Zen meditation—as opposed to just reading about it—is hard; and people that undertake this sometimes arduous practice are definitely deserving of respect. Bona fide earnest Zen training—participated in year after year—isn’t easy. And it isn’t for everyone.
Likewise, Zen is a sect of Buddhism, an old and esteemed religion. While Buddhism holds great appeal for many Westerners, not everyone wants to adopt this religious practice. Some people participate in other religions, and other individuals prefer not to engage in any organized religion at all.
If the only means to enjoy the profits of both shodo and meditation is to join a particular religion, and spend countless hours sitting in the classical lotus position, the number of participants will be less than is potentially possible. Many people, who could benefit from a program combining meditation and calligraphy, may be left out.

Shodo Explained


Shodo: A Japanese Path to Moving Meditation
Article and Calligraphy
By
H. E. Davey


(This article first appeared in the May 22, 2004 edition of the Hokubei Mainichi newspaper.)



More and more Americans are captivated by Japan’s traditional art forms. In the 21st century, it’s almost as common for children to participate in martial arts like judo as to play baseball. Your wife may study Japanese flower arrangement, while you read the latest book on Zen released by a major American publisher. Although classical Japanese arts have grown in popularity, they aren’t inevitably well understood, and not everyone realizes that martial arts (budo), flower arrangement (kado), tea ceremony (chado), and other activities are actually spiritual paths.


Note that the terms for each of these disciplines end in the word Do, which means the “Way,” as in a way of life leading to spiritual realization. Not only are such arts more than what’s seen on the surface, numerous other activities were “spiritualized” in ancient Japan. Many of these arts are little known in the West, or at least little understood. One of the most popular arts in Japan, also ending with the designation Do, is shodo—the “Way of brush calligraphy.” Western participation in shodo is much smaller than in Japan, and many people have never heard of it.

Of course, a few American art connoisseurs may have seen shodo in museums or books, and some young people in the USA sport tattoos of Japanese characters. Still, even Westerners that know of shodo seem to think that it’s too esoteric, or too difficult to read, to be accessible to most non-Japanese.

I’m living proof that this needn’t be the case.

Discovering Shodo
I began practicing martial arts at age five, tutored by my father, who had studied these arts initially from Japanese-Americans. He later lived in Japan, where his martial arts study continued and intensified.

In addition to the aiki-jujutsu that I learned from my dad, I enrolled in a local judo school. Even as a child, I admired the beautiful Japanese brush writing on the walls of our dojo, or training hall. I didn’t know what it said, but I knew I liked it.

Skipping ahead a few years, I grew interested in painting and drawing in high school and majored in art in college. I also began studying Japanese language, meditation, and healing. And I still admired the calligraphy I saw in homes and businesses of Japanese-American friends, but no teacher of shodo was available to me.

Jumping forward even further, in 1981, I formed the Sennin Foundation Center for Japanese Cultural Arts in Northern California. The primary focus of study at the Sennin Foundation Center is Shin-shin-toitsu-do, the “Way of Mind and Body Unification.” Shin-shin-toitsu-do is a form of Japanese yoga and meditation created in the early 1900s by Nakamura Tempu Sensei. In addition to Japanese yoga, the Sennin Foundation Center offers instruction in Japanese healing arts and martial arts (aiki-jujutsu). I teach all three arts, and over the years, I’ve developed teachers to assist me. However, I also wanted to offer my students optional instruction in brush writing. Unfortunately, in 1981, I’d still had not found a shodo teacher that I wanted to study under.

Practice Begins
After searching for years, in the mid-1980s, I met Kobara Ranseki Sensei, one of the most skilled shodo artists living outside of Japan. Deeply impressed, I began practicing with Kobara Sensei, originator of the Ranseki Sho Juku of San Francisco. Kobara Sensei had evolved a distinctive type of shodo and a creative program of instruction. He had, moreover, received numerous awards for excellence from various shodo associations as well as the Japanese government. With his help, I was in time able to exhibit my artwork annually at the International Shodo Exhibition in Japan, where I’ve also received awards, including Jun Taisho—the “Associate Grand Prize.” In 1993, I received Shihan-dai teaching certification, the highest rank in Ranseki Sho Juku calligraphy.

Upon receiving certification, I began offering my students of Shin-shin-toitsu-do instruction in shodo. Like Shin-shin-toitsu-do, shodo is a “Way,” traditionally functioning in Japan as both fine art and moving meditation. As such, it’s ideal for students of Shin-shin-toitsu-do or any type of meditation.


Yet some of my students were intimidated by the “foreignness” of shodo, and few Westerners seem to grasp how it functions as dynamic meditation that leads to deeper concentration, willpower, and calmness. To counteract this lack of understanding, I authored Brush Meditation: A Japanese Way to Mind & Body Harmony (Stone Bridge Press) in 1999. And I hope this article will also lead to a greater appreciation of shodo and its spiritual components in the West.

The Roots of Shodo
Around 2700 BC, according to Chinese tradition, an enigmatic man with four eyes called Tsangh-hsieh created the first Chinese characters. Captivated by the footprints of beasts and birds, he gave birth to the earliest Chinese system of writing. The God of Heaven was believed to have been so moved by Tsangh-hsieh's bird-based characters that he made grain drop from the clouds as a symbol of his happiness with humankind.

Unfortunately for our four-eyed friend, archaeology paints a different picture. Drawings engraved on pieces of tortoise shell and oracle bone date from the Shang Period in China, which is from 1766-1122 BC. These pictures were the archetypes of Chinese characters.

Ancient shamans would bore holes in the shells and/or bones, which were then placed in a sacred fire. The surfaces of these objects would crack and split. Chinese priests, who etched their impressions of “The Voice of Heaven” on the bone or shell using simple sketches, deciphered the resulting fissures. Eventually these pictographs were utilized for legal transactions, conducted via the exchange of etched strips of bamboo or wood. Later, such writings came into religious and official usage as bell inscriptions.

Much later in history, these inscriptions developed into the kanji, or “Chinese characters,” that Japanese and Chinese are familiar with today. Various script styles, such as kaisho (similar to printing in English), gyosho (a semi-cursive script), and sosho (an abstract, cursive form of writing), eventually evolved.

Starting around 552 AD, many elements of Chinese culture came to the Japanese island nation. Chinese characters also arrived on Japan's shores during this era.


Japan had a spoken language, but no system of writing at this time. Thus, the Chinese method of written communication was readily adopted. Initially the Japanese used the entire multitude of Chinese scripts, embracing quite a few of the Chinese readings while adding as many of their own. Characters were later modified in Japan, and new phonetic scripts called hiragana and katakana were born.

An Ink Painting of the Spirit
The spoken languages and cultures of Japan and China differ greatly, but they share a common set of Asian characters, which although pronounced differently by Chinese and Japanese, often convey similar meanings. It’s important to note here that while these characters are utilized for written communication; Japanese calligraphy should not be thought of as just penmanship. In light of the fact that Chinese characters began as simplified drawings or pictograms, it’s evident that no clear-cut dividing line can be found between drawing, ink painting (sumi-e), and calligraphy. Ink painting and shodo originally used the same brush, ink, and paper. Even certain brush strokes are similar. Shodo can be thought of as a system of writing and abstract art originally based on abbreviated drawings. In characters like mountain (yama), for example, it’s still easy to see three mountain peaks.

Kanji transcended their utilitarian function and collectively serve as visually stirring fine art. Shodo allows the dynamic movement of the artist’s ki ("spirit") to become observable in the form of rich black ink. In great examples of shodo, you sense the rhythm of music as well as the elegant balanced construction of refined architecture. Many practitioners feel that the visible rhythm of Japanese calligraphy ultimately embodies a picture of the mind, and calligraphers recognize that it discloses our spiritual state. This recognition is summed up by the saying: Kokoro tadashikereba sunawachi fude tadashii—"If your mind is correct, the brush will be correct."

Shodo and Mind and Body Harmony
With a bit of thought, it’s apparent that the mind controls the body. Based on this line of thought, it is equally clear that the actions of the body serve as a reflection of the mind. Witness the slumped posture of someone who’s depressed and the shaking hand of a nervous student about to take an exam.

In like manner, in shodo the mind controls the brush through the hand, and the lines the brush creates reflect the mind. In this way, shodo functions as an outer reflection of our mental state.

Some Japanese calligraphers and psychologists have written books on the examination of personality through calligraphy. Just as American companies have employed handwriting analysts to help them select the best individuals for executive posts, the Japanese traditionally expected their leaders in any field to display refined, serene script.

It is even said that health defects are revealed in byohitsu, “sick strokes.” This stems from the belief that brush strokes unveil the state of the body and subconscious mind—its strengths and weaknesses—at the moment the brush is put to paper. It has also been held that the subconscious can be influenced positively by copying consummate examples of calligraphy by extraordinary individuals. Tradition teaches that using this technique, you cultivate strength of character akin to the artist being copied.


Even today, some of Japan’s highest executives and politicians endeavor to develop traits for success by reproducing the artwork of an emperor or famous religious leader. At its ultimate level, shodo has historically been regarded as a means of refining personality.

What’s more, most people want to realize their greatest personal potential. We want to bring the full force of our minds and bodies to bear upon whatever we do in life. Yet for many of us, it’s difficult to coordinate the mind and body. The body may turn the pages of a magazine or the steering wheel of a car, but our minds are frequently elsewhere. Such lack of attention becomes visibly apparent in shodo, and thus Japanese calligraphy serves as a means of learning how to unite the mind and body. Just as a car only functions well when the front and rear wheels move in the identical direction, we only display our full potential when the mind and body harmoniously work toward a related aim.

In shodo, thoughts and actions must match, and we must direct the full, coordinated energy of the mind and body into the artwork we create. Failure to do so causes characters to end up where we hadn’t intended, lines to nervously quiver, and the overall creation to lack vigor and grace. In essence, shodo offers Americans the same benefit it has traditionally offered Japanese—an instantaneous, visible barometer of mind and body unification.

Shodo for the West
Just as many Western people appreciate jazz, rock and roll, or blues without being able to read music, so too can Americans appreciate shodo when they’re properly exposed to it. Since shodo is an abstract art, it’s not strictly necessary to be able to read Chinese characters or Japanese phonetic scripts to admire the dynamic beauty of shodo. Within Japanese calligraphy, we find the essential elements that constitute all art: creativity, poise, rhythm, gracefulness, and the beauty of line. While shodo is a fun way to learn about Japanese language, initial lack of Japanese reading ability needn’t be a stumbling block to shodo appreciation, and the universal aspects of shodo can be recognized and admired by every culture.

Bringing the mind fully into the immediate moment, realizing mind and body harmony, seeing directly into the actual character of the mind—all of this relates to meditation and all of these points are part of shodo. Shodo remains one of ancient Japan’s most sophisticated arts of moving meditation.

About Art of Shodo


Shodo is the ancient Japanese art of brush calligraphy. With elements relating to Abstract Expressionism, it’s influenced artists like Franz Kline and Robert Motherwell. Using materials and principles in common with sumi-e ink painting, Japanese calligraphy and painting frequently overlap. But shodo is more than fine art.

In Japan, it has long been regarded as moving meditation, and it is a distinctive path toward spiritual realization. Despite its popularity and lengthy history in Asia, it’s little known and sometimes misunderstood in the West.

The Art of Shodo Blog comprehensively presents this art in all of its many aspects as:

· A time-honored form of writing
· A gateway into the history and culture of Japan
· A graphic discipline that’s long been linked to Western abstract art
· A study of meditation in motion
· A fine art that’s collected by aficionados worldwide
· A contemporary commercial art form valued in advertising and business

In the Art of Shodo Blog you’ll find accurate facts about Japanese calligraphy and painting, books to read, high-quality artwork in our online gallery, information about shodo instruction, and an overview of buying Japanese calligraphy. Prominently featured in the Art of Shodo Blog are the writings and calligraphy of Hiseki Davey Sensei, an internationally acclaimed artist, writer, and teacher. Known to readers worldwide as the author H. E. Davey, he has introduced innumerable people to shodo, martial arts, flower arrangement, and Japanese cultural arts through his many books.

Welcome to the Art of Shodo Blog, a blog dedicated to Kobara Ranseki Sensei (1924-2005), master of Japanese calligraphic art.