Wednesday, September 5, 2012

The Yellow Wood

Another workshop at the Valley School, I decided to go this time round because Ive always been curious about chinese painting (more so japanese painting, but I figure theyre similar). It wasnt the most incredible experience, but I really enjoyed trying something new and playing with the lovely inks and papers! 
Here are some pictures from the day!

charcoal sketch of a little bamboo plant

hold your chinese brush upright and make beautiful effortless strokes!

my random and unfortunately rather impatient attempts

tada! I was actually proud to see some tonal variations, sitting up straight with that brush was SO
hard for me! but I think id love to explore this medium. Its very poetic, and each stroke is so beautiful.
and I love love rice paper. I just wanted to swish ink around and watch it sink into the paper.

On a different note, Im reading this fantastic book, its called rich dad, poor dad- and I find that its come into my hands just when I really felt I needed something like it. Theres so much that nobody ever tells you when it comes to financial education, this book talks about making money without selling your soul. Its always been so important to me that I never work for money, but for the love of what I do. In the book, he quotes a Robert Frost poem - one that I havent read in a long time, and as things sometimes do, it suddenly makes such sense to me. Taking the untrodden path is incredibly hard - but I think you will find yourself wealthy at the end of the journey. even if not in riches, in living some incredible experiences.

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;        
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,        
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.        
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

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