The Calligrapher — Ōuyáng Xún 欧阳询

Tang regular-script master whose 'Ouyang style' is a basic learning model.

Tang calligrapher (557–641), master of regular script/running script — Tang codifier of regular script; crisp, architectural strokes you could measure with a ruler. Tang dynasty

Cultural Story

The form set a way and a fall, 凋, the wither that ends the bloom. The Chu Ci mourns 凋零 of the court's men in hard times. The Odes note 凋谢 of the orchard after the frost. A prince's favour 凋 like a leaf. The word was the season's close, named on the branch.

Common words & phrases

• 凋谢 wither · fade · die (flowers)
• 凋零 wither · fall · decline
• 凋落 fall · wither · drop
• 凋残 withered · decayed · desolate

Read the story behind the character

The flowers 凋谢 by the week; the leaves 凋零 on the path. The petals 凋落 into the gutter. The branch stands 凋残 after the storm. The word fits a garden and a career — both fade when the warmth goes, and the broom comes out for what the wind let fall.

Why this character belongs on skin

Late autumn does its patient work: the leaf that was green in August loosens its grip, browns at the edges, lets go without ceremony. 凋 is that withering — not death exactly, but the slow elegant retreat of life from what it built, the tenant moving out without disturbing the furniture. Chinese poetry returns to it obsessively: the withered grass on the old battlefield, the fading blossom in a lady's hair, 凋零 as a mood of beautiful loss. The Japanese transplanted this feeling into their own aesthetics; the whole world of wabi is its cousin, cherry blossoms loved best as they fall. There is no shame in the character. Its pleasure is in acceptance — that fading is not failure but season, that the tree does not mourn the leaf. Inked on skin, it becomes a vow to age without apology, to fall like a leaf: unhurried, certain, grave, gorgeous.