Press "play" above for a more immersive and contemplative experience (alas, musical accompaniment not for iOS mobile devices - iPhone or iPad! For Apple users, use your lap- or desktop instead).
The tranquility of ink-stick, stone, water, and time.
Some people want to rush the grinding of the ink because they just want to get painting, but this is a mistake and you'll pay for it one way or another if you do not attend the grinding of the ink as you should. Your ink will be thin and weak, your painting or calligraphy sloppy-looking. Rather than thinking of it as something you have to get through, look forward to making your ink, as a time that you have permission to let go of all worries and frustrations, all to-do lists and deadlines. Your sole purpose, for the moment, is simply to grind.
I lean against a tall stool in front of my wooden drafting table, dressed in loose-fitting and comfortable clothes. I often play music in the background (such as "Monsoon's Dance" above) and let my mind ride the waves of sound, while my hand traces circles, clockwise and counter-clockwise, in the ink stone.
The ink is in the shape of a stick, composed of some mysterious recipe of charcoal and glue, which, when mixed with water, and ground in slow circles in a slate dish, turns first to a paste, and then finally into a smooth, silky liquid. As the ink begins to form, the faint but sharp smell of charred wood rises in a little ribbon. It is an ancient smell and I relax further into my task.
When grinding ink, I hear but pay no attention to outside sounds - the muffled thuds and flops of three cat bodies tumbling playfully outside the door, street sounds through the window, the occasional phone ringing. In a meditative state, I sometimes contemplate the work I am about to create - the strokes and composition, the color, etc. More often, though, I contemplate nothing at all, and simply empty my mind.
The intensity and depth of concentration required for Chinese calligraphy and brush painting makes the grinding of the ink much more than a simple preparation of materials. It is a form of meditation in its own right, and in undertaking it, you are also preparing your mind and body for the task to come. The artist prepares herself as she prepares her ink. It is said that in engaging in this process, or even in watching it from outside, one can gain a glimpse of the Tao.