Old water in the grass 1699

Editor: Here we have "Old water in the grass" created around 1699, an ink on paper work by Shitao. I'm struck by the sheer expressiveness in such limited monochrome, especially the energy within those seemingly simple brushstrokes of the grasses. How do you read this piece? Curator: Ah, Shitao! Always the rebel, isn't he? You know, looking at this, I'm reminded of something he once said: "I use my own brush and ink to speak my own words." It feels deeply personal, almost as if he’s painting not just what he sees, but what he feels in his bones. Do you see that almost frantic energy, a certain wildness contained within the traditional landscape format? It’s like a storm brewing, not just in the sky but within the artist himself. What do you make of that figure seemingly swallowed by the tall grasses? Editor: I noticed that, a kind of…immersion? As though he's becoming one with nature. I'm wondering if it might represent some spiritual thing. Curator: Precisely! This wasn't just about pretty scenery for Shitao. This feels like a visual poem about the artist's place in the world, a world that can be chaotic, overwhelming even, yet also a source of profound solace and belonging. Think about the weight of tradition he carried – to paint, and not to copy – was his life's quest, don’t you think? Editor: I see what you mean; I appreciate getting some of that context! This isn't just ink; it's a story on paper, which completely changes my perspective. Curator: Absolutely, and isn't that the best kind of art – the kind that makes you see and feel differently? Next time you're stuck staring at your thesis, imagine the grasses as knowledge - ready to overwhelm you, but waiting for you to bring clarity to it.