Painting the Dao

109 Painting Staves can be corporeal or psychological, real or imagined, central to existence or peripheral, sometimes even entirely without consequence other than to smooth an uneven mountain path. This one is not real in the sense of scientific rationality, but that does not govern art; the mimetic is just one of many options in the vast panoply of aesthetic means. It is real to me because it was part of a joint work created with the help of my son – my hidden treasure, my smile of joyous life, my measure, my constant unassuming surprise. I could easily write a story about it in the hands of some ancient eremite, lost in the wilderness, beyond the Stage of Time, remaining in consciousness only as a guiding light across time, but there is no need of such embellishments. I shall simply note its name, Cloud Gatherer. Inscribed by the Master of the Water, Pine and Stone Retreat at the Garden at the Edge of the Universe, autumn ’22. Seven artist seals 如如居士 Ruru Jushi (Retired scholar who believes all doctrines equal) 竹虛老人 Zhuxu laoren (Old man as empty inside as bamboo) 山外山樵 Shanwai shanqiao (Mountain woodcutter who is not in the mountains) 攜杖老人 Xiezhang laoren (Old man who carries the staff ) 養石閒人 Yangshi xianren (Idler who cherishes stones) 墨者不朽 Mozhe buxiu (Let ink be my immortality) 石狂 Shikuang (Stone fool)