My Cultivation Opportunities While Restoring Traditional Artworks

(Minghui.org) I’m a young Falun Dafa practitioner who began practicing in 2020. I’m now a second level student in the restoration of murals (paintings on walls). I’d like to share some insights I’ve come to while part of the restoration art world.

Hints from Master via My Teachers

I sometimes find that, even though my teachers are talking about school matters, they are pointing out deeper cultivation issues. I understand that Master is using their words to give me hints.

One day while we were drawing a still life, I was not doing very well—something was wrong with my drawing. The teacher told me that my perspective was wrong and that I’d put my horizon too low, that I should see things from a higher angle.

I realized that I often hesitate to start a new project because I don’t think I’m good enough, or I see my cultivation issues as too big, because I set myself too low. I should have a higher perspective, and, with the righteous thoughts that Dafa disciples should have, there’s nothing we can’t overcome, and we can save sentient beings with dignity.

I realize that it’s very important to place myself correctly. I’m a particle of Dafa, and thus there’s no reason to fear anything. Underestimating myself is, in fact, as selfish as having an inflated ego. Both come from placing oneself incorrectly.

I should be humble but brave. I realized that if I don’t believe in myself, I can’t do well and I don’t have that much power in saving sentient beings, because in such cases I don’t have righteous thoughts. Instead, I just think about myself and I’m worried that I can’t do anything. But saving sentient beings is not about myself. I should think of others first and do whatever is necessary. Also, if Master believes in me but I don’t believe in myself, isn’t it that I don’t believe in Master? So it’s also an issue of faith.

In another class, when we were doing figure life drawing, the teacher told me that my anatomy was inaccurate—the figure I drew wasn’t standing firm and was falling because it wasn’t grounded. Again, because I had the wrong perspective.

I realized I must be grounded in the Fa firmly, that no matter how good things may be on the surface, the base must be firm. If my perspective on doing things is wrong, then it’s not going to work.

I realized that sometimes my cultivation is quite superficial. I do the five exercises, study the Fa, send forth righteous thoughts, and participate in truth clarification activities. But am I doing each one well? Do I study the Fa or just read the Fa? Am I sitting in the lotus position with my hands in the position for sending forth righteous thoughts but my mind is wandering, or am I really having the effect of sending strong righteous thoughts that could shake the world of the ten directions? Am I just practicing or am I truly cultivating, assimilating every tiny part of my existence to the Fa while truly having a heart for saving sentient beings? The answer is, “Not always.”

I have to truly do the three things wholeheartedly, sincerely, and more often and gradually reach the state where I’m no longer being superficial in my cultivation. It’s like a mural. It doesn’t matter how nicely prepared the wet plaster for the fresco is, if the wall isn’t stable, it will collapse. I realized that sometimes I have this “diligent facade,” but I’m not genuinely doing well.

In our figurative drawing class, we usually draw a long study of a life-size figure. One day the teacher changed the assignment and had us do a lot of quick little sketches. I did really poorly. I realized I was better at life-size, because I’ve already drawn a lot of life-sized figures, and I know how large each part of the body should be. But when the format was changed, my proportions weren’t accurate.

I realized that it’s the same with me and my attachments. I can learn and not repeat the same mistake in the same situation. But I often don’t notice my attachments in different situations, I just don’t recognize them. I need to deepen my understanding and approach and not just memorize the situations and how I should think, speak, and behave in such cases. I need to be more sincere in my cultivation so no matter what the outside situation may be, my approach will be based on deep understanding within me, from my heart.

Jealousy

I discovered that I sometimes have jealous thoughts, mostly about other practitioners. Luckily, we share openly with each other and treat it as something foreign in us that tries to create barriers between us. When we find that we are jealous of each other, we help and encourage each other to eliminate these bad thoughts. Thank you, fellow practitioners!

My classmates helped me a lot to realize how interfering and unnecessary this emotion is. My school specializes in restoring murals, which is a group effort. At school, during drawing and painting preparation classes, the teachers compare our work and we are supposed to learn from each other. I did a little better than my classmates, so they were jealous of me. But when we work together on the scaffolding, the facade is just too big for one person to do it alone—we have to cooperate well as a team working together on something much bigger (even physically) than ourselves. There’s no point in competing. Also, because we are still students, no matter who is doing slightly better than the others, we are all very far from the standard we should be reaching and we still have a lot to learn. After we graduate, we may never see each other again.

I’ve realized that it’s very similar with us practitioners. While we are still in this human world, none of us has reached the standard, and we still have a lot to cultivate. We should learn from each other but not compete with each other. Not only can we learn from each other, but we can also use each practitioner’s strengths to save sentient beings more effectively. If one person is better at this and the other at that, we can do a good job together and complement each other. We should work well together, because we share a great, holy mission that is much bigger than ourselves. And after we complete our cultivation—after we reach Consummation—we’ll have to manage our own paradises, and we won’t see each other again. So I can’t let any jealousy get in the way of working with my fellow practitioners, because it’s like we’re classmates for just a while.

Insights from My Chemistry and Technology Class

After I started practicing, I lost interest in learning worldly knowledge, and even though I got excellent marks in the exams, I thought I just had to “appear” to be a good student so as not to damage Dafa’s image. I didn’t understand that I shouldn’t just appear to be a good student but actually be a good student and what that means. I complained about why I had to learn this and that. I recently realized that we can find xinxing hints in everything for our improvement and that Master also uses modern science to explain the Fa. I realized that, through these material things, we can understand higher principles, and by using them, we can validate the Fa. I think it is also respectful to the gods to cherish this material environment we live in, because it’s the environment they created for us to cultivate in and validate the Fa.

I’d like to share two insights I gained from my chemistry and technology class.

The teacher explained that modern art is almost impossible to restore, even if we try. He said that Van Gogh’s artworks started to deteriorate in only a few dozen years compared to Renaissance works that lasted for centuries. And even if Renaissance works are damaged, they are relatively easy to restore because they follow traditional techniques and use traditional materials, which are the best approaches we have.

To create in the traditional way took a lot of time. For example, just preparing the backing for a painting took months. Artists were usually very poor, unrecognized in their lifetimes, and didn’t seek fame or profit. They created art to praise the gods. They also respected the physical and chemical properties of the materials they used and followed the rules.

In comparison, modern art disregards the rules, be it with regard to composition or the way materials are used. In modern painting, artists deliberately violate every convention, and the art they produce is confusing. It’s just like the communist specter that fights against the divine in every respect. On this material level, it manifests by putting things together that chemically fight each other, damaging canvases, plaster, and layers of paint. And that’s why they are almost never able to be completely restored, because the paintings are self-destructive.

I realized that no matter how demonic things can be (they can look very ugly), they are actually very temporary and weak. I see this as a manifestation of “evil will never prevail against the righteous.”

Master said,

“While it’s been said that “evil is more powerful than good,” that is a harmful secular view. The Devil’s powers will never surpass those of the Way.”(The Fifth Talk, Zhuan Falun)

We also learned about the traditional layering technique of oil painting called glazing, and a more modern technique called “alla prima,” which means “in one go.”

Glazing is done in many transparent layers, which creates a deeper impression. When the light reaches the surface of the painting, it passes through these layers, because they are transparent, until it reaches the base layer, where it is reflected. During this long journey, a lot of light is absorbed because the light encounters many particles of pigment during this long journey through the layers. That’s why this technique can appear a little darker, although the same paints are used. Also, the colors aren’t usually mixed on the palette, and the final color is achieved by constantly correcting it in another transparent layer with very little diluted paint. And with so many transparent layers, the original ground, underpainting, or base layer can shine through.

In comparison, alla prima does not use layers of paint, just one thick layer of paint with the desired color mixed in. When light reaches such a painting, it cannot penetrate very deeply and is reflected almost immediately, so the colors are more shallow compared to a layering technique and the light does not reach the original base layer. The thick layer of paint covers it completely.

This seemed to me to have a deeper meaning, so it made me look at how I cultivate. Sometimes I want to do things alla prima: Get rid of all the garbage I have accumulated over lifetimes. But that’s very superficial. Usually when I do that, I just replace one attachment with another and try something else. But it can’t reach my true self, it will never be as pure as my original true self if I don’t go deeper and just cover it over on the surface with a thick layer of something. I also realized that when I’m impatient, isn’t it because I’m not cultivating according to Ren (forbearance), one of the three most important principles?

That’s why Falun Dafa cultivation is so powerful, because it can truly change us fundamentally and bring us back to our true selves, not just make superficial changes.

Master said:

“Let me tell you, I see that you’re truly doing well in cultivation, especially the veteran practitioners, and I’m really happy to see you. But you may have the same problems, and from time to time some bad things might still come up in your thoughts. Occasionally your thoughts may even have awful things, and those bad things might get worse and worse. I’ll tell you why that is. During your cultivation, as you know, we’re transforming you from the microscopic level, from the formation of your existence. So the part of you that’s been transformed has reached the standard and can’t be called human anymore. Then that part can’t follow when your human part does something. If it did, it would be the same as a god doing something bad, and it would be the same as his having fallen. That absolutely wouldn’t be allowed. That’s why as you continually cultivate, the parts of you that constantly get assimilated to the Fa are being separated. Similar to the annual rings of a tree, in cultivation you are expanding ring-by-ring, outward towards the bark. The tree bark is your outer surface. So you cultivate yourself from the part that has been fully cultivated and expand outward until the surface is finally reached. The part that you’ve fully cultivated is divine, and the part yet to be fully cultivated is human.” (Teachings at the Conference of Changchun Assistants)

When I honestly and patiently go through layers and layers of my attachments, I can go much deeper, and that’s being truthful. Sometimes I feel very dirty when I encounter additional attachments that are deeply hidden, just like light encounters many more pigment particles in layers than in alla prima. But if I do that, I can absorb a lot more light from the Fa. I should be transparent and open about my mistakes and finally reach my original, true self, whose righteousness can shine through the layers of dirt I have accumulated. I also found the principle of compassion there. It’s okay that I can’t become a Buddha overnight, just as it’s okay that I can’t get the desired color in one go. I can build it layer by layer, taking small steps, and assimilate to the Fa.

I was amazed that Western traditional oil painting, left to us by the Divine, is so wonderful because it embodies the qualities of this universe, Zhen, Shan, and Ren!

From Validating Myself to Validating the Fa

Looking back, I realized that I’d developed a strong attachment to validating myself. I can now see how awful my thoughts were (and to some extent still are), but at the time I wasn’t able to see it because it was second nature.

Master gave me this very precious opportunity where I can get rid of this mentality. During the summer holidays, we have a month’s practical training in restoration. After the first year of theory and practical drawing and painting, this was our first contact with real restoration. During the semester, from initial exhaustion, I got used to a packed schedule and long, physically and mentally demanding classes.

After a week-long painting exam, where we even stayed overnight, I thought I could survive anything. How complacent and proud I was! But painting while on a scaffold was nothing like painting in a studio, even if we didn’t work so many hours. I was exhausted, as I always am when the bar is raised. I realized that I hadn’t improved my xinxing, and instead I was just pushing myself harder, becoming even more arrogant with a sense of achievement. I realized that what I was doing could be compared to physical exercises rather than to cultivation practice. I didn’t improve my xinxing at all, I just made ordinary efforts, so I could get used to a certain burden.

Before we climbed the scaffolding for the first time, my classmates were afraid of heights. I thought I wouldn’t be, because I used to do rock climbing before I started cultivating and was used to heights. But the scaffolding platforms were built for people of normal height, and I’m quite small. So I often had to stand on a slab to reach the higher parts of each floor. We also had a large window in our part of the facade. The scaffolding was close to the wall, but where the window was, it was impossible not to leave a gap between the wall and the scaffolding. So when I was working on the window cornice, I had to use the slab. There was also a gap between me and the wall, so there was a place where I could possibly fall. I realized that I should always remain humble and never think that I’d already overcome some hardships.

We also used many powerful tools that could be dangerous if mishandled. I realized that I had to pay attention, not be afraid, but also not be arrogant and always be careful.

For example, we used a scalpel to remove incorrect retouches. I always forgot how sharp it was and I often cut myself accidentally. The first week I cut myself every day, but with Master’s protection, the injuries disappeared overnight. When we were cleaning the facade, the hidden parts that couldn’t be cleaned with water were cleaned with steam. When I turned on the steam shower the first time, I was shocked at how strong the steam was, and I scalded my hands because I didn’t hold the steam wand firmly. I realized that, as practitioners, when we clarify the truth, we have immensely powerful tools in our hands. We can clean the dirt from the most hidden parts of people’s minds. We should hold it firmly, like I should have held the steam cleaner, and not be afraid of it. But we can also mess things up and harm ourselves or other people if we’re not careful, so we should be responsible to sentient beings. With Master’s protection, my hands weren’t injured, even though I doused them with boiling steam.

Throughout the practicum, we were mistreated, and I realized that no matter how complicated the work was or how difficult it was working in the hot summer, we wouldn’t be recognized. Other parts of the castle were open, so we often ran into visitors. Many parents told their children, loudly enough for us to hear, that if they didn’t do well in school, they would end up like us, doing manual labor on a building during the holidys. Some people thought we were doing public work as punishment for our misdeeds. (In my country, when young people commit a crime that would incur a fine, they are assigned to do public work instead and the money is given to their parents.)

When we came down from the scaffolding to have coffee in the afternoons, the castle’s cleaners scolded us for not working, even though we’d already worked for hours, without pay, as it was part of our schooling.

At first I felt hurt, that not only would no one be grateful to us for restoring our cultural heritage, but people looked down on us or thought we were being punished. But then I realized it was a good thing—it helped get rid of my attachment to reputation, to being recognized. It helped me become more humble and kind.

I noticed that my teachers and older students were all very kind, respectful, and humble, even though everyone treated them badly. I noticed that we first-year students were the only ones complaining about hard work, no holidays, people’s attitudes towards us, etc.

When a cleaner scolded my teacher, who was dressed like a laborer and covered in plaster, but who is very educated and high up in the academic world, he humbly thanked her for the reminder and fixed the thing that wasn’t even his fault. I was ashamed that even non-practitioners behaved better than me.

During the rest of the practicum, I began to notice how wicked and selfish my thinking was, and whenever I apologized to older students for causing them trouble, they kindly told me not to worry, that everyone had been a first-year student once. I realized that they must have changed a lot and that I should cherish this environment where even non-practitioners cultivate and improve.

I asked them why they were no longer bothered by the things that bothered us. They told me that this discipline crushes one’s self-interest, so you can either change and become more selfless and considerate, or you won’t be able to stay in the field. I was amazed. Thank you, Master, for arranging this for me!

The teacher taught us that, when we restore, we have to be respectful of the artwork, because it’s a record of the tradition and values we once had, and not to mix our own things into it. We should respect the previous restorers and be forgiving, even if they sometimes messed things up. She reminded us not to become arrogant with the hero mentality that we saved a Renaissance piece of art from socialist restorers. She told us that it wasn’t their fault they messed things up because they weren’t even restorers, they were artists excluded from other fields because they didn’t join the communist party and couldn’t work in the specialty they’d studied. They also didn’t have the materials that we have from Italy. They literally mixed what they used in their garages. Finally, we should be respectful and considerate of future restorers and not do anything that would make their future work more difficult. We can learn from previous restorers’ mistakes and we should remember that we’re not the best restorers of all time, so we shouldn’t do things that are irreversible.

I was deeply touched.

On another occasion, my classmate and I helped an elderly restorer with the conservation of a wooden confessional bench. We were fixing polychromy (layers of paint on the carved wood) that was coming off. It was in such bad condition that we couldn’t move it. So my classmate did the upper part from a board and I laid down on the floor to do the lower part. I realized that if that’s what it takes to save it, then it’s my duty to do it. I can’t do whatever I want with the bench, but I should be considerate of it in order to save it.

I realized that it’s the same with saving sentient beings, that we have to consider them first and clarify the truth according to what they can accept and not impose our own ideas on people. Also, in general, when I help someone, I should first consider the other person. This confessional made me think and confess how I had recently behaved towards a fellow practitioner. I wanted to help, but I wasn’t considerate, and I was even hard on him because I couldn't stand his shortcomings.

After the first year, I could see how selfish, arrogant, and proud I was. Now we are supposed to meet with first-year students on a regular basis and help them. It’s very interesting for me, because it’s like looking in a mirror to see how I was a year ago and to ascertain where I still am.

We all came from good high schools, so we were all high achievers and unable to take a step back. I remember being frustrated when I did worse than my classmates and relieved when I did better. I can’t believe how competitive I was. I understand now that it was hard for me to improve because I didn’t want to make mistakes. Now that I’m able to put my ego aside and accept that I’m not perfect, it’s much easier to learn because I don’t have to worry about making mistakes. I will make lots of them and bring them to light so that I can notice them and improve. My teachers often give me hints. For example, I was told to draw in ink instead of pencil so I couldn’t hide my mistakes.

After that year, I met up with a friend from high school who is studying medicine. She asked me about our practicum and I told her funny stories about how I was scared when a classmate approached me with a big syringe that we used to inject chemicals into the plaster. She laughed and said that if the syringe was meant for me, they’d have to use a bigger one! I understood that this used to be my approach—I constantly competed with others, did not respect them, and felt I had to prove that I worked harder, longer, etc. I used to get annoyed when people put me down because I studied craft instead of science. Most of my ordinary friends study STEM and I felt they misunderstood me.

My thinking has changed. I realized that it’s not possible to validate Dafa by validating myself. So when I was once asked if all Dafa disciples were “just artists,” I didn’t think I was being wronged. I replied, “There are many Dafa disciples who are studying or working in prestigious fields of science. They are doctors, lawyers, scientists, and all kinds of other honorable professions, and they are very good at what they do.”

I could see that this made a deep impression on my friend, something I couldn’t do when I defended myself and tried to explain that practitioners are also involved in chemistry, technology, and history, and that we’re not lesser just because we do manual work. When I let go of my ego and accepted that I wasn’t a convincing example of a smart person, and instead allowed others to be better than me, my friend said, “Wow, I didn’t know Dafa practitioners were such qualified people!”

These are just my limited understandings at my current level of cultivation. Please kindly point out anything that is not in line with the Fa.

Thank you, Master! Thank you, fellow practitioners!