Inspiration and Solace
Just before the first lockdown in Greece, I visited an exhibition on Qi Baishi: the most famous, creative, and influential master of 20th-century Chinese painting. Amidst the meditative ambience of his drawings, there was an analysis of his study of shrimps which I found fascinating, inspirational, and unexpectedly soothing.
Qi Baishi was mesmerised by nature’s wisdom and spent innumerable hours observing flowers, insects, birds, or small amphibians, turning his insights and enhanced awareness into art. Among other things, his shrimp compositions became legendary. However, the simplicity of the drawings and the modesty of the theme itself are deceptive, for the perfection and plasticity gracefully bestowed on a piece of paper were the results of an elaborate process that slowly unfolded over several decades.
In the beginning, Qi Baishi followed the style and teachings of the old masters, his shrimps being translucent and minimalistic, without any feelers. Later, and until the age of 63, he chooses to apply thick and well-proportioned ink throughout the shrimp’s body, adding a few radiated feelers. By the time Qi Baishi turns 68, his shrimps overflow with renewed levels of energy, as their bodies maintain their thick ink brushes, the abdomens turn thinner and more transparent, and the feelers become elongated and bendy. Perfect as this version looks, it is still not the final one. Qi Baishi turns 80, and he continues refining his shrimps, improving with a few brushes the details on the main body, further simplifying the abdomen, while increasing the number and vivacity of the feelers.
Although the artistic value of this evolutionary study was enchanting, I was mostly inspired by the process itself. If the talented Qi Baishi worked for decades over the enhancement of such an allegedly simple drawing, then I could find solace and inspiration in the slow pace of my own unfolding. The creative process often looks intriguing from afar, but, amid its turmoil, it is ambiguous and hazy. One may spend years refining a craft, the focus on details frequently feeling insignificant and futile. But then, there comes a moment when the practice turns into a meditative flow of inner growth, the artistic result merely its form of tangible expression. Qi Baishi’s shrimps became for me a symbol of the joy found in the unfolding. There was comfort in the reminder, its consoling impact enhancing the peace in my heart, and reinforcing a sense of higher purpose that, more often than not, feels elusive.
Photo credits: © Konstantina Sakellariou
