To Listen Differently

Mr. Lee was an average built-man, slightly roundish with the most unforgettably curious-looking eyes.

Although he lived in Australia for many years, he spoke minimal English and frequently reverted to his native-Cantonese when conversing with anyone who looked Asian.

I took Chinese ink painting classes with him.

Why ink you ask?

Because from a single ink, one can create thousands of shades, shapes, settings, seasons and feelings. What could be more magical than that?

Classes started at 10 am every Saturday.

Students were of mixed-ages ranging from children to adults. In total there were 7-8 of us regulars.

My ink stick to grind on stone slab

At the start of the program he taught us about the different types of brushes and rice papers that influence our paintings.

Yet, a good workman can always work with any tool and still produce great results, he said.

Whew..That was good to know I thought, considering I had little disposable income at that time and the amount of quality rice papers I needed to buy for practice, would be costly.

He would carefully set up his instruments at the table. Each one in its deliberate position.

‘Everything in its place is paramount’, he used to say.

He would then demonstrate our weekly assignment, explaining each stroke, each dip, as he swept his brush and re-filled it with just the right amount of ink.

Throughout the process he religiously cleaned the brush in a glass of water. Then dipped the brush with clear water before dipping it in ink. Clear water was the holy grail, he swore.

Within a few minutes, he’d complete his masterpiece. We‘d heave sighs of admiration.

My two baby pandas on bamboo

Mr Lee always asked us to lay out our weekly assignments on the tables that had been arranged into a single elongated work table for us.

We'd walk around viewing all the paintings, with Mr Lee asking each one of us what we liked about each one.

'I love the curve - it looks so fluid'

'The colours are unbelievably beautiful'

'I really like how the round shape falls just right'

'I feel it looks so soft and real'

'This one looks very artistic'

Truth be told, during all my years in class, never had I seen, any painting, regardless of our ages and abilities - not garner any honest praise or positive reviews from our peers.

Not once.

And it wasn’t because we weren’t critical.

It wasn’t because we didn’t want to hurt our fellow learners’ feelings.

It wasn’t because we were afraid if we criticized, we would need to prove we could do better ourselves.

It was because there was always something good in every piece.

We only had to train our eye to see it.

Our teacher demonstrated that all of us have the ability to spot the commendable and unique strengths of every unique masterpiece.

And thereby could enjoy the pleasure to appreciate so much more.

We were also asked to comment on how we could improve each painting. It was always refreshing to hear and learn from each one’s different perspectives.

Later in my career, I would be influenced by his attitude. I would try to listen harder, into every person's opinion, looking for that irreplicable stroke that Mr. Lee spoke of years ago.

Giving junior and left-field team members a second chance, trying to spot what can only be visible if you pay enough attention.

One of my earliest paintings

The following week students would submit their rendition of Mr Lee's painting. We had a whole week to practice each of the strokes within the painting.

I found that each piece indeed takes only minutes to finish.

..After hours of practicing each stroke, that is.

From understanding the amount of ink to load on the brush, to getting your wrist to move rhythmically to the dancing hairs of the brush and figuring out how to allow the tip then the base of the brush to fall, creating just the wash that you want.

Slowly I learned that as in anything in life, that which appears easy, professional and beautiful, comes after hours and years of hard earned practice, commitment, disappointments, setbacks and resolve.

My two decade old brushes

Thank you for the life lessons, Mr. Lee.