Two essential themes pervade Chinese art and literature: simplicity and nature. If you have ever set eye upon Chinese calligraphy or a landscape painting, you have experienced Chinese simplicity in art. Using the available negative space to shape an image, rather than fill it in with color, is a technique used in Chinese brush painting. Few colors and strokes are needed to portray the scene. The same theme applies in literature, where the language is succinct and to the point. From one who has been raised in the Western tradition of realism and avid, sometimes verbose, description, shifting my mind towards simple language has not been an altogether easeful transition (particularly when attempting to craft a story in such a style). Yet I find that if I open myself, and quiet my mind of words and noise, I can find peace in the shivering of leaves.

Which addresses the second essential theme: nature. Like Japanese haiku and renga, special attention is paid to nature as a subject in Chinese poetry and art. Although in my studies I found no direct formula for how a Chinese poem is to be written in English, I have taken it upon myself to incorporate certain natural themes from Chinese poetry. The first was of course a reverence to nature, which are symbolized in water and mountains. In Chinese gardens, special care is taken to balance solid rock forms (symbolizing eternity) with shapeless water (transience). My own nature poem was intended to contrast the nature of the two, as I watched and wrote on the Oregon Coast. Further developing upon this theme of eternity and transience in natural forms is time poetry. Again, my poem is set on the Oregon Coast, as I recall and reflect how an old rock form called Jump Off Joe has changed since my childhood.

Taking a different stride to the nature motif is leisure and nostalgia poetry. (It should be noted that "leisure" is perhaps a poor translation for what some poets try to construe as a peaceful state of mind, and not necessarily of leisurely activities.) Both of my attempts flow through seasonal images of water, wood, air, and light, as paired and listed simply in the title of this portfolio and the calligraphy that concludes it.

A long, long time ago, when the great spirits were still acknowledged by Man, a great war was waged between two great nation states, Yún and Huǒ. The leader of the state of Yún, Yún Wáng, was said to have found the power of the gods, ever-lasting life. Huǒ Kāng, the king of the state of Huǒ, was desperately jealous and conspired to steal the power from Wįng by sending an assassin named Dāo Dīng, two warriors Hś and Hŭ, and a mercenary called Liś Lóng into the city after its defenses were smashed by a massive attack from Kāng’s army. So successful were they in crippling the city that Kāng, himself, escorted the two warriors into the city in search of Wįng and his secrets.

The assassin, Dāo Dīng, tracked Wįng to a high tower. With blade and knife in hand, Dāo Dīng threatened to cut off Wįng’s head if he did not give him the secret of immortality. Wįng replied, "You are unworthy." Enraged, Dāo Dīng lunged, but Wįng, as swift as a swallow, skirted to the side. Dāo Dīng swung again and on the third strike opened Wáng’s left side.

Liú Lóng entered the tower and said, "What is the meaning of this?" Wáng leapt high in the air and floated down in front of a window. Looking at Liú Lóng he said, "These petty souls hunger for that which would devour them." Dāo Dīng said nothing and bent over in exhaustion. His hand touched a dagger hidden in his belt.

Liú Lóng said, "I serve Huǒ Kāng, for he seeks your power. I did not come to shed blood. What is it you seek?"

After a pause, Wáng said, "What is this man who comes in the name of my enemy and asks for understanding?"

Liú Lóng said, "I seek an answer. What is your reply?"

Clutching his bleeding side, Yún Wáng smiled and said, "The river flows in one direction." He turned his back and began walking to the window.

Like lightning, Dāo Dīng threw his concealed dagger at Wįng’s back, the blade buried up to the hilt. Silence resounded in the tower; even the wind dared not to gasp. A trickle of blood began to leak from the wound. At the edge of the window, Wįng turned…and fell forward.

Liú Lóng looked up from the body, unperturbed. His gaze rested on Dāo Dīng. The assassin turned to go. Liś Lóng stood and began to follow him. But before he was four strides away, a breeze whirled through the tower, and the body behind them began to move. Both men whirled around. Wáng stood.

Wáng said nothing, and instead pulled the dagger from his back and tossed it to the floor. His eyes met Liú Lóng’s and he spoke, "Are you surprised? Did you not believe what you came here for?"

“I was sent to kill,” Dāo Dīng replied, brandishing his blade, “As I will do now.” He lunged forward once again. Liú Lóng grabbed his arm and said, "You may have been sent to kill, but I was not. We cannot carry out the king’s wishes if he is dead."

Dāo Dīng slashed at Liś Lóng, who leapt back like a serpent. "I am not here on the wishes of the king," he said.

"What?" Liú Lóng exclaimed, "Then who are you?"

"And you think you are wiser?" Wáng asked. "Those who crave power cannot control it. What do you say, Dragon?"

Liú Lóng looked to Dāo Dīng and said, “You are mad."

"It would seem I do," Liú Lóng replied, drawing his sword.

They battled. Liú Lóng now defending Yún Wáng reaped the advantage of the immortal’s magic, which gave him tremendous strength in order to defeat Dāo Dīng, leaving his corpse in the tower as they flew below to the center plaza, where greater enemies lay.

Huǒ Kāng, Hú and Hŭ sprang upon Liú Lóng and Yún Wáng the moment they landed.

Kāng said, “Liú Lóng, do my eyes deceive me? You have betrayed your king."

"I have betrayed no one," Liú Lóng said, "For I serve Heaven, and not those who conspire to attain Her power."

And so began the third great battle of that day. Hŭ and Kāng dueled Liú Lóng, who was still empowered by Yún Wáng’s magic. But Hú was smarter and attacked Yún Wáng from behind, piercing his neck with his spear. Fending off Hŭ and Kāng, Liú Lóng leapt to Wáng’s side, and sliced off Hú’s legs with one great cleft of his blade. Once again the wind stilled, as Liú Lóng knelt by Yún Wáng’s side. His mouth was moving, but no sound emerged.

Hŭ was closing in, screaming a silent battle cry. Liú stood and met the tiger’s attack like a rock. With another stroke of Liú Lóng’s sword, Hŭ was slain, split down the middle. Kāng approached, and Liú Lóng moved to meet him in the center of the plaza.

At that moment, it began to rain. Behind Liú Lóng, Yún Wáng’s body was beginning to vanish like vapor, trailing up to the sky.

His voice could be heard in the sky, whispering in the wind. He spoke, "There is only one left who is worthy of this power. Liú Lóng, the Dragon Vagrant has the support of Heaven, and my blessing. His spirit is as pure as rain, cleansed of the worldly desires of man."

Thunder boomed overhead, and in a flash of lightning, Liú Lóng transformed into a great horned dragon, with four claws on each of his four feet.

Liú Lóng bent his serpentine head and looked at Huǒ Kāng. "Your ambition has razed a good city and ended the lives of many this day."

The skies rumbled overhead.

Liú Lóng surveyed the city. "This place must be forgotten, erased like footprints in a stream."

Another flash and rumble, this time from the ground. A great earthquake shook the city, toppling the tower, it’s buildings. Soon, the city was mere chunks of rubble. Huǒ Kāng, had fallen in the city he had destroyed in the pursuit of an ambition against nature. And as for the legacy of Yún Wáng…the Vagrant Dragon disappeared into the stormy clouds…forever wandering.