n Well...That just makes me weep for humanity. I remember when I was 13 and we went to China, there was an artist painting with watercolors on rice paper outside one of the scheduled tourist stops at the various silk, rug, and cloisonne factories, which I was notably more enthralled with than anything we were there to see. I was utterly transfixed watching him create a thatch of bamboo stalks and leaves, effortlessly without adjustment or hesitation, quick as if he writing his own name, and it was seeming somewhat like magic that each of these flicks of the brush that looked so random just BECAME a rendering of something elegant and un-abstract, or like a camera lens suddenly coming into focus out of a blur of muted colors. I must have stood there at least 20 minutes watching with admiration and obvious amazement. As I stood captivated, an insect appeared on one of the branches (a colorful mantis, I think it was), and the artist, who had noticed my interest and wide eyed wonder, then exchanged a few words with my grandfather in Chinese which I didnt understand at all - except for one. Apparently, he had inquired as to my name, which he then added to the picture before making a gift of it to me, unwilling to accept any money offered by my grandfather at his generosity. It is one of the most valuable treasures I brought home from that trip, even though it cost nothing. It something that could not ever be produced by a factory, as it was the making of memory as well. One of the most vivid recollections I have in my life, let alone the trip itself.
Posted on: Mon, 03 Feb 2014 08:53:10 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015