Grinding an ink stick
on a stone shaped like the “wind”
its fragrant smell fills the room
connects me to the calligraphers of the past
who have been grinding their own ink
before they begin to write
stretching back 1000 years.
Grinding an ink stick
on a stone shaped like the “wind”
its fragrant smell fills the room
connects me to the calligraphers of the past
who have been grinding their own ink
before they begin to write
stretching back 1000 years.