(On the calligraphy of Wang Xizhi)
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TEXT ONLY VERSION
How hard is it to reproduce the work of such a piece of gem especially when the original sleeps with none but the royal man who was simply absorbed by the sinuous traces of incomparable beauty and skill. How hard is it to surface the buried?
The tip of this brush on the old track; the vibrant paths, the much mistaken routes. One needs to repeat the errors for they form parts of the entity. Sometimes words even fall apart to give one the nous of spontaneity. I know how it feels to step on each of the old steps there. I can feel the hardship to recreate something I cannot even tell if it existed in the first place. As I mimic the flowing of the small brooks that are so interconnected, one cannot help but to be gay for being a trifling part of the effort to wake the piece up from the ground. How hard is it to mimic the water you have not seen? I am going down this very creek and see the everlasting charm which the man brings to mankind. I am a step closer to how it all started. I see.
How utterly beautiful it is to read a poem by the flow of the character strokes! I think the poem have artistically offered a new lens to appreciating the legacy of this renowned calligrapher and the thousands of years of culture.