Shuji

This is my new Japanese name given to me by my new shuji sensei, Akate Sensei. I started studying calligraphy a couple of weeks ago. The first lesson I began in yochen – kindergarten – but progressed to fourth grade mid way through my second lesson. Everyone says my writing is very good but I think they are being Japanese about it. However, today was my third lesson and I was given the great honour of writing with a fude – brush – for the first time; this seemed incredibly fast to me.

The first picture is my name written in kanji. It is an excerpt from the second photo. It is custom to always write your name next to your writing. These larger characters are the kanji for karate; Sensei asked what character i would like to start with, if there was any character i especially liked. After we talked of the integrating philosophies of karate and shuji she chose the kanji for karate for me. This is one of my first efforts. Hopefully it will get better, however much to my chagrin I am under instruction to show my shuji to my karate sensei. I am worried he will laugh at my beginners efforts.

Practicing my strokes mid last week, it occurred to me that the sweeping movements are very similar to the curves one makes with one’s body in karate. It reminded me of the philosophy in Jet Li’s film “Hero”, where the protagonist studies the calligraphy of his opponent to understand his swordsmanship. Excited by this idea, I started looking up the internet to understand better the connection between the two art forms.



I pulled the following excerpt from a martial arts magazine . . .

"In Shodo, all mistakes are final, just as in the martial arts a mistake ultimately, or at least symbolically, results in the Budoka's death. For this reason, many beginners in calligraphy lack the spiritual strength to paint the character decisively. Each stroke must be delivered like the slash of the bushi's sword, yet the brush must be held in a relaxed manner, as well as manipulated without a loss of controlled calmness. Through rigorous training, a kind of seishin tanren (spiritual forging), the student's mental condition is altered, and this change in consciousness is expected to be carried into the individual's daily life as well. For the Budoka, the added strength and composure, which is cultivated by Japanese calligraphy allows him or her to more instantly respond to an opponent's attack without hesitation. In one sense, the shuji-gami, or calligraphy paper, which is so sensitive that the ink will "bleed" through it in seconds, is one's opponent and the brush one's sword. Every kanji, or character, must be painted with a perfect asymmetrical balance, which like a person's balance in Jujutsu, must be developed until it is maintained on a subconscious level.

"Shodo requires a balanced use of the mind and body, as well as a state of mental and physical integration. As many novices in the martial arts have discovered, it is sometimes rather difficult to make the mind and body work together as a unit. To simply paint a straight line can be a surprising challenge, one that can be accomplished only through a coordination of one's faculties. In Japanese painting and calligraphy, a strongly concentrated mind must control the brush, and a relaxed body must allow the brush to act as an exact reflection of the mind's movement. Shodo, as much as Budo, demands this coordination. Through calligraphy practice, the martial artist has an additional means of realizing the essential harmony of thought and action, and a visible means of illustrating this state of unification at that. To achieve unification of mind and body, of course, demands a positive, concentrated use of the mind, along with a natural and relaxed use of the body. It is this enhancement of concentration and relaxation that many people, including Japanese practitioners of the martial arts, find so appealing."

At Karate, one of my sensei's has remarked several times that my balance is lop-sided, or rather non-existent; after executing a head kick, I always fall too far to one side, and my defence is also one-sided. I blame this on years of riding my bike no-handed, whereby I throw my weight to the left side to counterbalance the weight of the bike which is thrown to the right. Thus am I riding skewift on my saddle. However, swimming laps last night, I noticed that the action of my right arm is noticeably smoother than that of my left, which has considerably less height and grace. I thought back to my teenage years when I sported one of those appallingly long fringes that covered half my face, though hair-sprayed in a tight wave formation. After it was brought to her attention by my hairdresser, my mother was forever nagging me about how I always held my head tilted to one side.

So I continue my musings about balance, sometimes in the pool, sometimes randomly splattered down here for all to pass over. Work at the moment is unbearable, I am caught in the middle of a nasty fight in the staffroom which will see my co-worker quit tomorrow. Normally I would follow suit, to prove a point, but after careful thought I would be quickly replaced and my protest denied. In Japan I am trying to learn patience and cunning; thinking of external consequences for perhaps the first time in my life. I am reading Sun Tzu’s* Art of War again hoping to gain inspiration and also Clavell’s Shogun, allowing myself to be romanced by the fiction of the warrior samurai. After finishing it I will have to read some real history before my mind becomes too tainted by a westerner’s glorified representation of Japanese culture. First however, I want to read Bushido: the way of the samurai. Most of my friends are Japanese; they teach me about select parts of Japanese culture and I teach then about Western; it isn’t until something goes awry and I am part of a complex web of intrigues between Japanese, that I realise the strength of differences in culture.

A break will be good.


* Yes, I realise he's Chinese. However even the Japanese would admit they nicked most of their best ideas from the Chinese.