To write ‘天’ well, and it looks effortless.
It actually contains FOUR techniques:

1. Horizontal
Firstly both horizontals start with a cut-in.
The shape is there the instant the brush lands.
That takes instant feel for the bristles—and stillness. No extra motion.
Master center-tip.Then forget “center-tip on every stroke.”

2. Left-falling
Secondly the left-falling stroke starts “up first to go down.”
A few tiny moves.It takes a great deal of writing for that technique to disappear into the stroke.

3. Right-falling
Thirdly the last stroke runs mostly center-tip.
Lift steadily at the end—tip slightly up.

4. Structure
Fourthly calligraphy is not straight, even, or symmetrical.
The two horizontals are not level—they rise slightly up to the left.
They are not mirrored left to right,but staggered.
The right-falling stroke begins below the upper horizontal,and very far to the left.
Yet the four strokes together must still form onebalanced, stable, harmonious system.

Here are four key features:

Firstly, the left side is strong and upright, firmly supporting the whole character.

Secondly, the right side is written in one continuous sweep from top to bottom — fluid and graceful.
Thirdly, straight lines on the left are crisp and decisive; curves on the right are soft and flowing. Especially in the “田” part: a curve is thrown up and to the right, then loops back down — bold and open. Left and right form a yin-yang pair.

Fourthly, the first stroke (the dot) sits far from the second stroke (the horizontal). After the dot, the connecting trail down to the left is very long — it even becomes the main body of the dot. This special “broken stroke, connected intent” binds the two strokes more tightly.

If you look at Wang Xizhi’s original: the same qualities are there, but the Sage of Calligraphy is more harmonious and balanced. Whatever character he writes becomes the benchmark of beauty.

Unlike standard and clerical script, cursive allows you to vary the “wetness” of the brush to create rhythm and momentum within a piece. Yet when the brush runs dry, many practitioners instinctively scramble to reload it.

Don’t.

Keep going. Find the plane of the brush that still holds ink, and work with it. Even an extremely dry brush can produce lines full of vigor, movement, and life.

臨殤忽不御 comes from Wang Wei's poem written with a pure goat hair brush. The brush was already dry at 臨 and was never dipped in ink again.

筏喻 法尚應捨 何況非法

I tried to increase the contrast and fiddle with the image to make it pop more in the second hopefully it's legible. That's about what is there in real life it's not just a blurry photo.

Today we’re talking about the real sign that you’ve mastered writing vertical strokes.

Similiar to horizontal strokes, at this stage you make the technique invisible and no longer think about it.

Just like using chopsticks or a knife and fork, you don’t consciously think about your grip or force. You focus on the rhythm between strokes, how they connect and flow, and how to express feeling through that movement.

That’s when you can say you’ve really mastered the vertical stroke.

If you have any questions about Shufa, just leave your comments or DM me.

taking turns at 基隆元山美學
1, Yours truly
2, some of the ...brushes... we used
5, one of our results

剛裱好了 just got this mounted: dream of playing/ moving with white clouds. From a poem by 孫逖 Sun Ti, 8th century. I wrote this earlier this year.

this was a gift from my calligraphy professor years ago but i can’t remember what it says—can anybody translate?

٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و I love coffee ☕😍