Zen Composition

Some Japanese wisdom that I feel applies perfectly to the art of composition.

Staring at Koetsu’s back, he found that by twisting a little to the side he could see the moving brush. Drawing nothing but the lines of flowing water, the artist kept his eyes on the narrow brook wending its way through the dry grass. He concentrated solely on the movement of the water, again and again trying to capture the flowing motion, but the exact feel seemed to elude him. Undeterred, he went on drawing the lines over and over.

“Um,” thought Musashi, “drawing’s not as easy as it looks I guess.” His ennui receding for the moment he watched Koetsu’s brush strokes with fascination. Koetsu, he thought, must feel very much as he himself did when he faced an enemy at swordpoint. At some stage he would rise above himself and sense that he had become one with nature - no, not “sense,” because all sensation would be obliterated at that moment when his sword cut through his opponent. The magic instant of transcendence was all.

“Koetsu’s still looking at the water as an enemy,” he mused. “That’s why he can’t draw it. He has to become one with it before he’ll succeed.”

From “Musashi” by Eiji Yoshikawa, translated by Charles S. Terry, p.390.