Gone like a yellow crane

"去如黃鶴 "  for those of you who doesn't read Chinese, that means "Gone like a yellow crane".

Legend has it that some scholar was visited by a crane-riding fairy.  The fairy and the crane departed after a few drinks and no trace could be found of the encounter.  Thus the phrase "gone like a yellow crane" suggests something or someone is gone for good and never coming back.  

Sometime ago I painted a rather dark piece, a figure head with eyes closed and an enigmatic expression on the face.  There were also nondescript people in the background, seemingly ready to vacate the scene in unison.

It was a setting of emptiness, departure, abandonment. 

I don't know why I had painted it the way I did.  I just remembered that I wasn't feeling happy, per se.  I've attached the labels of "Zen" or "Meditation" to the painting, but somehow these labels don't really address my feelings when I painted it.  I just employed the catch words of "Zen", "Meditation" to satisfy the masses.  Pretty stereotypical or perhaps even fashionable for some Asian fellow to exploit or appropriate eastern ideals of Zen and Meditation, right?

Perhaps it is a personality flaw of mine.  I like to paint when I'm not feeling "right".  I like to paint when I am upset.  I like to paint in cramped quarters.  I like to paint when surrounded by noise.  Only then can I translate the swells in my thoughts into something perhaps only I can comprehend. 

I painted this female drinking by herself, her face manifesting an introspective and less than jovial expression.  Perhaps touched by the music from the guitar and lyrics from the singer. 

Could it be that I was painting myself in that picture.  I was in an introspective and less than jovial space myself when this painting was done.

Anyways one day out of the blue I added a crane to my dark painting.  Flying away from the scene.  Right away I knew that was the missing link.  That had always been the story I was trying to narrate.

Aside from being the topic of a legend, the yellow crane happens to be included in the lines of a famous poem.  

I am going to showcase just the two pertinent lines from this poem.  It is difficult for me to type the whole poem in Chinese because I don't seem to be able to learn to type Chinese on my keyboard, despite my younger brother's relentless efforts.

黃鶴一去不復返

白雲千載空悠悠

My English translation is:

The yellow crane has left, never returning,

All is left are white clouds, emptiness, for millenniums.

I felt so much better after I added the missing crane to my painting.  My painting had finally unveiled its true meaning.

I had wanted to write those two verses onto the painting but I didn't feel the urge at the time.

I was at a happy place, at the time.  I was too busy being a narcissist, enjoying myself.

Well today is one of those days that my emotions get the better of me.  My buddy whom I've known for almost 5 decades is now taking donepezil, a medication used for treating cognitive issues by preserving the neurotransmitter acetylcholine.  I desperately need something positive to steer me into the clear.

There is no better time than now to finish my painting by putting down the calligraphy.  I have always confessed that my calligraphy leaves a lot to be desired.  In order to not deface my painting, I need to make an effort to practice my calligraphy first.  People might frown on me for needing to practice for calligraphy before I pen, or brush in this case, something.   I don't see them frown on musicians rehearsing before a concert.  

One of my go tos is a fa tie that transcribes a thousand characters into different font styles 

Mine happens to include 6 different fonts,

So I start to practice on the two verses of the poem that I alluded,

All that culminates in this

I am in a good place, again.  For now.  Such a catharsis.  I have words to guide me now, GPS for my thoughts.

This all seem anecdotal I am sure.  To me it's more like the chicken and the egg argument.  We paint to express something inside of us, but that "something" might not be lucid in the beginning.

I'm ready for my vision.