Shodo has a weirdly important place in my heart. I go with my daughter on Saturdays. My Sensei is a peach. I struggle and progress slowly, yet I look forward to it. I enjoy it because I get time together with the little one, but I also learn, and it is art. I have a need to produce something creative, even if it is pedestrian and simple.
In Japanese (and Chinese) the word for draw and write are the same. I could easily go down the rabbit hole that this linguistic aberration could take me, but I will resist the temptation. Or maybe I won’t. I think it is cool, and telling. It tells you that writing is an art. I want to have minimal proficiency in this art. Or maybe I just imagine it, like a mystery. If I only knew the truth then I wouldn’t think it was so amazing. I will keep it a mystery for as long as I can.
And here is my kanji, which I like better than most. Sensei pushed me this month, correcting me again and again, pushing me to get my lines straight and my ink clear. It is better but not quite there.