A colleague came to talk about calligraphy and said to me that your handwriting looks like a person on the cloth. He said an ancient name. I smile. There are many blank spaces and some coldness in one piece of writing, which is no longer a teenager's mind. When I think of my initial study, I always choose those lingering and scrolling calligraphy, plus some of my own boasting. I think there will be a natural and unrestrained demeanor like the genius of the south of the Yangtze River in my pen, so the paper is full of thick paper, like vines intertwined. This style of writing lasted for many years before it gradually relaxed, and the idea of cutting came into being - when people reach middle age, many ideas are opposite to those in youth, but in their later years, people will stick to their views in middle age and gradually strengthen them. So that later, the pen became more and more simple, and those branches and tendrils were removed, leaving some freehand pens. Now in retrospect, decades of time passed in the action of continuous writing, no one to guide, self righteous, because following the ancients, it was smooth, and finally became today's style.



A person began to write in the late 1950s, with no purpose, but to write for pleasure, day by day. At that time, the economy was poor, full and hungry, so I was poor and happy to spend my childhood. Later, during the "Cultural Revolution", all schools were closed, and teachers made a revolution in the streets. As primary school students, they hid at home and continued to write. They felt that it was a very real thing to watch the calligraphy notes being written, like someone holding your hand and walking in a strange area. Later, I left my hometown and settled in the mountains. I felt pain from working in the fields in the daytime. At night, under the dim light, I still had to write a few words. As for entering the University, it is very late for the conditions to improve. The day passed, followed by the night, the ancient inscriptions learned a lot more and realized some mystery.



If an interest continues, it is a repeated process. Even if you sleep soundly at night, it will stretch out like a piece of rice paper, with an inkstone next to it and a stick of sheep hair. Someone once asked mathematician Chen Shengshen how many hours he worked every day? Chen Tan opened his hand and said, "well, I can't say it. I've been thinking about it." I feel the same as Chen Shengshen. When I don't write, I also think about things related to writing. I think of the appearance of those ancient calligraphers who died when they wrote. They are serious, wanton, and upside down. I saw the dark pebbles in the yard. I took great pains to bring them here at the beginning, entirely because they were like different points - Mrs. Wei said that it was wonderful to write the points so calm, honest and silent. Look at the large reeds on the back mountain outside the wall. They are all tenacious bones and muscles swaying in the wind. Iron paintings and silver hooks are generally unbreakable. When natural things came to my eyes, their aesthetic value was captured by me.



Calligraphy graduate students in the studio are also like this, repeatedly jumping the tip of the pen, like elegant gulls pecking step by step, or rabbits rising and falling, but in a moment, the former writes Zhuan, the latter practices grass, one person, one direction, and follow the standard. Because the tutor emphasized standing and waving, it made the teenager more elated until he was tired. He sat down to drink water, or walked out of the studio and looked at the news on the branches. Manual work is like this. It has been polished countless times to at least make mistakes, and steel refining is finally soft. Someone said that robots can write better than me in a few years. It has an infinite training process that exceeds life. The fact that robots play chess better than first-class chess players is clear proof. I agree with the necessity of robot writing, but it's none of my business to write it. I still write it every day. I admire myself for my elegance. Even if I can't write it, I won't stop. I don't believe that the popularity in pen and ink, especially the subtleties in personal feelings, can be conveyed by robots, so at that time, these differences of individuals are particularly precious. Manual work has emotional repetition, which is not suspended in the air, but sunk between the fingers and wrists, especially the fingertips. It feels so developed and sensitive. Especially for female graduate students, their usual talents are hidden in their fingers, as if jade were hidden in stones and beads were hidden in clams, and they look so thin and petite. They didn't pick up their pen until they really needed to do it, and they didn't try to write down without trying to write in a light or deep ink. After three or two times, it was finished. The four seats were stunned for a moment and felt the power of silence. Usually, no one pays attention to the foundation of a building that is submerged underground. They seem to have nothing to say outside people's sight. Just enjoy the exposed parts of the ground.



Repeated writing finally ushered in a person's freedom, unrestrained. A common phenomenon is that people who are good at writing are still willing to write some big characters in the evening, because their eyesight is poor, their wrists tremble, and the time for making fine small block letters has passed, and big characters will be more in line with the state of mind of trustworthiness. Even if they write head and tail, they are still very happy. When the rules are changed from law to impossibility, this person has crossed thousands of mountains and rivers. At this time, it can be ignored that he is clumsy.



My parents and I are different in spiritual life, but the most common part is in the choice of career. Both of them choose a career for a lifetime. If there is no retirement system, both of them will end up as primary school teachers. The textbooks at that time did not change constantly as they do today. Parents practiced the courses of several grades they were responsible for thoroughly, and they could bypass other courses at the same time. However, they still keep preparing lessons seriously to see if they can dig out some new content in their proficiency, so that students can get a little more. In the eyes of many people, a person moves on the plane after his skills are proficient, but his father can make progress. He is very impressive in Chinese class, his skills are advanced, and he has won the highest honor as a primary school teacher due to his dedication and diligence. My mother teaches in a primary school in the suburbs. She commutes between home and school four times a day - she is used to walking, which is good for thinking. Several times I found her pointing and talking to herself as she walked, immersed in her own world. I once told her that she smiled, but later it was still the same. At that time, there were not many cars and horses in this elegant town, so that she would not encounter danger when forgetting herself. As for how people on the road looked at her, her mother was unaware. My teaching life is much freer than that of my parents. I don't have to prepare lessons collectively at all. I can teach my part well and take responsibility for myself if something goes wrong. Many trials are in the study, which others can't see, and there's no need to be humane - since a person loves his career, he doesn't just want to make a living. Instead, he will pay more for it, and the fun will grow. Even after a person retires, he still cares about some details - if possible, he can set high-quality blackboards on all sides in a large studio, accompanied by high-quality dust-free chalk, when I rise, Fill them up one by one.



My father began to write wills twoorthree years before his death, but he only entered the first part and wrote a few words before he put it down. It will start again in a few days. Parkinson's disease makes his handwriting difficult, and he wants to write better, so what I see is fragments, countless fragments. I estimate that the will needs to be written in four parts, and there are still some words, but he feels that if he has time, he can write it slowly. Father is always leisurely in writing, without the mentality of being in a hurry. Even if there is an urgent matter, he still sits down and writes it one by one. Therefore, he wants to learn cursive calligraphy in his later years and can't learn it. Because his mentality and hand posture are always regular, he can't form the style of startling sand, sitting and flying, lonely and self-excited. In fact, my father can write it at will, let the outline of several parts show, then intersperse, supplement, and finally copy it correctly. However, my father has been repeating the first part so much that he can't write down - this is a passage about faith. My father feels sacred and solemn, and should express it carefully, so he stops here. Time is very stingy for the old man. His father can write as he likes, and there is nothing wrong with daubing. It can let us know the meaning - no one will ask for this or that of the handwriting written by the old man. Because of his father's aestheticism, the rest of the will was taken away by time.



Now, there are still few works that I have written by letter. Unlike some people's talent, with a wave of letter, I have become. I wrote more than once before picking out one thing - I think time is used to do something interesting repeatedly. As for the end, I won't think much about it. (calligrapher, writer, Professor of Fujian Normal University, Isaac Zhu)