The process of professional artistic creation is rigorous and time-consuming. However, my porcelain painting, "The Vow of Compassion," was completed smoothly with thanks to a sense of grateful dedication and a humble attitude that suppressed the arrogance of an art creator.

 

February 31st marked the completion of the Main Shrine's key elements. Attention to detail and disciplined endurance were the essence of the entire painting, while humility was the soul that captured Grand Master Hsing Yun's spirit.

 

Due to my application for an exhibition at the Fo Guang Yuan Art Gallery, I felt the guidance and assistance from the head of the Fo Guang Yuan Art Gallery's Kaohsiung headquarters and the director of the Taipei branch. While assisting with the creation of the Buddha's Birthday figurines for the Taipei gallery, the director was preparing the "Ode to Master" exhibition in memory of Grand Master Hsing Yun. During our meeting, he inquired, "Besides the existing selected works, is it possible to complete a porcelain creation in just over a month?" At that moment, I only wanted to do something to express my gratitude, so I vaguely remember answering with a calm expression and a declarative sentence, "I'll rush it, it should be possible."

 

From that moment on, my mind was constantly churning day and night. Porcelain painting rarely depicts realistic portraits due to the unpredictable nature of kiln firing, let alone a well-known figure like Grand Master Hsing Yun.

 

Six porcelain panels, each 30x30 cm, how should I present them in a freehand or cartoon style? I simulated dozens of compositions in my mind, but ultimately returned to the image that appeared when I said, "I'll rush it, it should be possible."

 

On the long table in the kiln workshop, I arranged the six porcelain panels and sketched the overall composition with a pencil within ten minutes of starting. Passersby asked in surprise, "Is that... Grand Master Hsing Yun?" "Amazing! You can tell just like that?" I was the one who was surprised at this point.

 

The entire process that followed can only be described as a joyful experience. I was eager to go home and paint every day.

 

I had visited the Main Shrine, but never seen an aerial view. Based on the printed photos and the 2.31 ratio of the six porcelain panels, I stood beside the panels, bending over, calculating and converting measurements, using a long ruler for clothing patterns to compose and color for over two hours to complete the rough draft. Strangely, the roof of the Main Shrine in the printed photo appeared too pale, so I intentionally deepened the ochre light. However, when I saw it after firing in the kiln, my first impression was that it had become too pale. Later, when I compared it with the photo at home, it was almost identical to the light in the picture.

 

When painting Grand Master Hsing Yun, my mind was filled with the need for precise facial details and accurate color tones and light calculations before firing... When it was almost finished, I felt a little happy. I excitedly asked my family people to take a look. Initially, they said, "Not bad," but then added, "It feels like Grand Master Hsing Yun is smiling kindly in the photo, but the face you painted looks a bit worried..."

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Which artist wouldn't want to refute or dismiss such a comment? Strangely, just like the process of creating this porcelain painting, my heart was always joyful. So when I heard this comment, I was willing to calm down from the slight surge of pride and reflect. I thought about the saying, "Those in the midst of it are blind to it," and realized that I needed to endure, humbly accept, and transform this "criticism."