In the Zen tradition, calligraphy is not simply an art form. It is a direct expression of practice — the meeting point of body, breath, and energy. The Zen brush does not describe reality; it reveals it. When you spend time with a true Zen artwork, you are spending time with that particular master.
Zen Master Shinzan learned this deeply through his training with two very different teachers: Kajiura Itsugai Roshi and Shinden Inaba Roshi, both of whom eventually gave him their acknowledgement.
Itsugai Rōshi was a severe master. His calligraphy reflected that severity – stripped down, uncompromising, essential. A typical work might consist of a single character. Makoto, “sincerity” was one he returned to again and again.
His teaching method was simple and direct. He would brush one character, place it before the student, and say: “Copy it. Ten times.”
Later Itsugai would look through the copies in silence. If one met his eye, he might sign and seal it. The others he might criticise, or frequently say nothing at all.
This silence was part of the teaching. Not approval, not rejection – just the mirror.
Shinden Rōshi, by contrast, had a lighter touch. His brush moved more playfully, often expressing itself through humorous images of Daruma, the founder of Zen, with exaggerated eyes and hangdog expression. Where Itsugai cut, Shinden opened.
From these two influences – severity and play – Shinzan’s own calligraphy matured.
Once he told me that over his years as a Zen student he worked particularly with the character Mu – “no,” “nothing,” “without.” As you know, Mu is not merely a word. It is a gate. A koan. A whole world.
For years, Shinzan wrote Mu.
Again and again.
In different styles.
Different states of mind.
In a sense, Mu was not something he was writing. It was something he was attempting to manifest.
At last, after countless attempts, he produced a Mu that satisfied him. The character was alive, balanced, complete. For the first time, perhaps, there was a feeling: this is it.
Beside the character, he signed his name — boldly, confidently, with a flourish.
He took the piece to Shinden Rōshi.
Shinden looked at it carefully. Then he said:
“Everything is excellent — except the part where you arrive.”
