推薦序＿Ebru Art
by Mustafa Yasar
“Mutato nomine et de te fabula narratur." (Only change the name and it is your story that is being told)
Horace, 35 B.C.
In history, humans probably
Saw themselves in water for the first time.
Or in the eyes of their beloved.
It was a reflection.
A moment coming to eye contact.
It was a matter of looking at one another.
Experiencing the "amazement" before the universe.
What a beautiful thing that was!
Being able to see oneself.
Seeing
And that,
For the first time.
---
For centuries
In the east and west
Find yourself
they would say
Know yourself.
But how would this be?
How would humans find themselves?
Humanity was in a quest for what they had lost,
but it wasnt certain whether they would find that.
But how would they grow aware of what they did possess?
Human, like water flowing on
What would they do with what they found now?
How would they protect it?
And then what?
How would they use it?
Was this humans’ returning to their self?
Maybe it was related to their looking and seeing.
For what appeared was neither an end, nor infinity.
Maybe it was the beginning of the end.
Maybe it was realizing the existence.
Maybe they didnt find themselves at all.
The road tired some of them may be.
Whereas some of them tired the roads.
And there were those with insight.
As they worked, as they endeavored
So many managed to break their shackles.
It was the sweat of their brow.
It was a drop from the sea.
It was the beginning of the end maybe.
So what was this “end”?
What is this beginning?
And they talk about ebru;
and they say how beautiful it is.
But what does ebru mean?
It is the water of life.
It is the meeting of colors with water.
It is the appearance of a mood on water.
For whatever you hold within,
that is what pours on the tray.
Nothing more, nothing less.
A person is whatever he or she is.
---
This is water,
this is ebru.
It hides the mythical herb of immortality King Gilgamesh sought for.
It is the friend of worried ones.
It upholds those who open up it.
Every trouble turns into a hue.
Then they turn into rejoice in your heart.
Pour down one by one,
earth-based dyes to the tray
one hand holds the brush
And the other hand becomes a companion of the artist
dyes are like untrained colts
even though they escape here and there at first
then they get familiar with your hands.
Because it takes time,
because it takes effort.
As the dyes are poured to the tray
they attract you to themselves
Even though the destination you seek and the way you go are not always the same
In the course of time you find your way, you arrive at the destination you wish
whether you like it or not
first you must accept what you do
There will surely be your ways you wish to correct
then you make them up in your own way
it requires time,
it requires patience, so does it require efforts.
you touch the water in the tray with the needle
It flows, and then colors follow
Wherever you wish to take them...
They become patterns, flowers, trees , or a heart...
It becomes a white base, which meets the ocher yellow
Leaves gain vividness from the green of the stem,
Tulips start blooming, out of the earth-red,
And the blue cloves,
Purple violets,
Yellow daisies
And so many others.
Paper descends on the tray, like a delicate lover
It reunites with the colors.
It merges with color
And finally, gum tragacanth becomes the seal of the paper.
And now the spirit is ready to leave its cage
The paper is taken out of the tray
What appeared on water, is on paper now
The paper becomes history.
It is now a memory
For the future generations.
Although seeing will take time.
What you made, what you wished to look at, your very mood is in front of you now.
Reading and seeing although they take time.
Yes, here it is.
The art of Ebru that continues for centuries
is now a companion of yours.
Its affection is hidden in its birth.
He never turns anyone empty-handed.
The colors poured in its heart
it does not leave them unresponded.
It pleases both its master and apprentice.
It is born as an orphan
Even from the very first day.
There is no fixed homeland for it
It travels around the world.
and it makes visits
to Japan,to China, to Taiwan,
to the lands of Indians and Persians
To Anatolia, to Europe
And in so many more places.
This is ebru.
It is a guest for civilizations.
It has freedom.
It does not look for an owner.
It is in the home of whoever endeavors and sweats.
It becomes guest to where it is hosted well.
It has no fixed abode or home
Ebru is a guest
It visits and moves on
This is all about it;
It is your story I am telling.
博客來
TAAZE 讀冊生活
金石堂
