Calligraphy is the perfect metaphor for learning
How practising calligraphy promotes a beginner’s mindset
I recently had to update the address on my Indian visa, which has led me to spend some quality time at the Foreigner’s Registration Office (FRO).
Two hours in, with the number 41 defiantly shining on the wall, number 129 was getting fidgety. I had forgotten my book, couldn’t fall asleep, and was tired of staring at my phone.
I whipped out my notebook and started aimlessly doodling. Randomly, Juhi Chitra’s neat process videos with gothic lettering popped into my head, and I decided to give it a go.
Now, when it comes to calligraphy, I’m not even at the rookie level. I’ve attended a beginners workshop with Juhi, where she taught the basics of calligraphy and brush lettering, but I hadn’t practised much since then. I often try different letterings in my journal, (to varying degrees of success) and that’s all.
But I had a pen, a notebook and an entire afternoon.
Armed with an online tutorial, I started practising i after i after i — the foundational shape of the gothic script.
They all looked terrible, but with each repetition, I could see more clearly where was the issue and correct it a bit. I moved on to the n. They also looked quite bad. And then improved.
The practice took over hours and spread out over my weekend. I’d repeat each new letter a number of times until I got the basic hang of it, then I’d form words. It felt like I was back to swimming practice, alternating speed and endurance with exercises for proper technique.
As I was doing this, I realised how practicing calligraphy makes it easier to get into a learning mindset.
Being visual and set on paper, the entire process unfolds in front of our eyes. It’s easy to see one’s entire progress and to notice points of improvement. It’s challenging, and it demands countless hours of dedication, but it's fun and rewarding at the same time.
Practice, practice, practice
Behind each word that doesn’t look ridiculously wobbly or out of proportion, there are countless hours of labour.
There are aching necks, ink-stained hands, and painstakingly filled practice sheets, with letters and words that gradually become less and less funny-looking.
It’s the only way to learn. No shortcuts, no silver-bullet productivity hacks, only patience and dedication.
Be mindful
At first, it took me some time before I realised I was repeating the same mistake over and over again. Then I saw it, how I was drawing the stroke versus how it should be. So I corrected it. It was better. I corrected it again. Each attempt was a bit better.
Whatever it is that you’re learning, practising leads nowhere if it’s not done with thought behind it.
It’s ok to suck in the beginning
When trying out a new script or tool for the first time, no one expects it to come out perfect. In fact, in the beginning, they will most likely be terrible.
With each new letter, I’d trace it for the first time to get familiar with the hand movements, and then repeat it making gradual adjustments. I wasn’t thinking “oh no, g looks difficult, I’ll suck at it”.
Sucking at it is an essential part of the process—embrace it. Which is basically another bastardised form of Beckett’s: “Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.”
It’s not about talent
After a few hours of practice over the weekend, my flatmate peeked over my shoulder and sighed, “This is beautiful! I wish I could do that!”. I explained that it was actually easy to get the hang of it with a few hours of practice (and that what I was doing was nowhere to being beautiful), but she shrugged it off with “No, I’m just not talented”.
It’s natural to look at calligraphy examples out there and think they’re the fruits of some supernatural skills that only a few chosen ones are able to master.
The truth is, every calligrapher who has ever walked this earth has started exactly in the same place, barely able to hold a pen.
Labour, not talent, is required to do something beautiful. Talent is not more than a bigger inclination to actually put in the effort.
Don’t lose sight of the big picture
Calligraphy is incredibly absorbing. Hours of mindful practice put you in a state of flow, when you are only focused on getting that one stroke right.
But beware: Titivillus, the much-cursed “Patron Demon of Scribes”, strikes exactly during those moments of deep concentration, and can wreak havoc even in the spellings of the fiercest grammarists.
From the outside, these bloopers seem silly. I didn’t really get them until I started misspelling words myself. There is a really fine balance that needs to be kept between extreme attention to detail and extreme attention to the entire sentence, between individual strokes and overall balance of the page.
Effort in itself is not enough. When Titivillus strikes, it makes me think of all the moments when I was giving the best I had, but the effort was misguided. Of all the times of great “task muscles”, but weak “goal muscles”.
The joy is in the journey
Learning calligraphy isn’t a means to an end. My paychecks won’t grow fatter. My core won’t get stronger.
Of course, there are goals I want to achieve. I want to deepen my design knowledge. I want to apply it on my journal. I want to write beautiful thank you letters to my friends and family. I want to be able to make a beautiful get-out-of-jail print when I’m out of gift ideas.
But it’s mostly about practising for the sake of it.
Learning calligraphy takes time. Sometimes it’s exasperating. But it takes you to a place of inner peace, where you focus only on improving your craft.
My original goal for that weekend was to learn the entire alphabet in gothic script. I did it. Now I need to keep practising, and I’m on to drawing those deliciously intricate majuscules. Then I want to try other scripts. It never stops.
Enjoy the ride!
