In writing Chinese characters in the REI SHO manner this same principle is carefully inculcated. The characters must be executed with the feeling of their being carved on stone or engraved on steel—such must be the force transmitted through the arm and hand to the brush. Thus executed the writings seem imbued with living strength.
It is related of Chinanpin, the great Chinese painter, that an art student having applied to him for instruction, he painted an orchid plant and told the student to copy it. The student did so to his own satisfaction, but the master told him he was far away from what was most essential. Again and again, during several months, the orchid was reproduced, each time an improvement on the previous effort, but never meeting with the master’s approval. Finally Chinanpin explained as follows: The long, blade-like leaves of the orchid may droop toward the earth but they all long to point to the sky, and this tendency is called cloud-longing (BO UN) in art. When, therefore, the tip of the long slender leaf is reached by the brush the artist must feel that the same is longing to point to the clouds. Thus painted, the true spirit and living force _(kokoromochi)_ of the plant are preserved.
Kubota recommended to art students and artists to a practice with lines which is excellent for acquiring and retaining firmness and freedom of the arm, with steady and continuous strength in the stroke. With a brush held strictly perpendicular to the paper horizontal lines are painted, first from right to left, the entire width of the TOSHI or other paper, each line with equal thickness and unwavering intensity of power throughout its entire length. The thickness of the line will depend upon the amount of hair in the brush that is allowed to touch the paper; if only the tip of the brush be used, the line will be slender or thin; but, whether a broad band or a delicate tracing, it must be uniform throughout and filled with living force. Next, the lines are painted from left to right in the same way and with the same close attention to uniform thickness and continuous flow of nervous strength from start to finish. Then, the increasingly difficult task is to paint them from top to bottom of the TOSHI, and finally, most difficult and most important of all these exercises, the parallel lines are traced from bottom to top of the paper. The thinner the line the more difficult it is to execute, because of the tendency of the hand to tremble. Indeed, the difficulty is supreme. Let any one who is interested try this; it is an exercise for the most expert. Such lines resemble the _sons filés_ on the violin, where a continuous sustained tone of equal intensity is produced by drawing the bow from heel to tip so slowly over the strings that it hardly moves. Practicing lines in the way indicated gives steadiness and strength, qualities in demand at every instant in Japanese art. Observe a Japanese artist paint the young branch of a plum tree shooting from the trunk. The new year’s growth starting, it may be, from the bottom of the TOSHI will be projected to the top. Examine it carefully and it will be found to conform to that principle of _jude no chikara_ which transfers a living force into the branch. I have seen European artists in Japan vainly try offhand to produce such effects; but these depend on long and patient practice.