The Contemplative Art of Suminagashi with Jenn Chen
Since shelter-in-place started I’ve found myself meditating a lot. Most times it’s out of a need to feel grounded. Other times, I meditate to escape our apartment and New York. I lie on the floor and close my eyes until the stillness hits. But other times, I marble.
I started marbling ten months ago, after taking a suminagashi class with a friend. Suminagashi, which means “floating ink,” is a Japanese marbling style that dates back to the 12th century. Artists use brushes to tap ink onto the surface of water, then use their breath and other tools to create floating patterns. Our marbling instructor described suminagashi as a creative and meditative act. A practice to quiet the mind and connect with your breath. I was instantly sold.
For the rest of class, we learned how to push and pull ink into watery patterns. Gooey egg shapes—hypnotic rings—soft tendrils—jagged lines that resembled cut geodes. We made water look like smoke and stone, all drawn forth with our breath.
I loved it. After class, I bought an $11 ink set, brushes, paper, and a Tupperware container for my tray. I filled my Tupperware with tap water, grabbed a brush, and was off.
Suminagashi’s accessibility is one of my favorite things about it. It’s easy to set up, and you can experiment with techniques and styles using the same few tools. But while suminagashi requires few supplies, it demands a level of creative surrender that I’m not used to giving. As a writer and UX content strategist, I’ve grown to rely on the flexibility and precision of digital tools. I have infinite backspaces and undos. Suminagashi is temporal and relentless. The physics of it are unforgiving—wait too long to make a move, and your pattern drifts away. Puncture the water’s surface, and your inks start sinking. I once sighed over my tray and that exhale alone torpedoed my design.
I used to think I could control the water—if I was still enough, delicate enough, strategic enough. Eventually, I realized that I share control with the water. I push my ideas onto the water, wait for the water to respond, and react in turn. I push and react and push and react and that becomes the rhythm of my breath. I lose myself in a dialogue with the water, and as I speak with it I too begin to flow.
Getting Started
I love the structure of classes, but there are lots of online resources if you want to learn more before committing. As for supplies, you can find everything online or at home, for fifty bucks or less.
Supplies
Dish soap, to act as your resist
Tap water
Brushes
Paint tray
Watercolor paper
Tray for water, like a butcher tray or Tupperware
Online Workshops
Quick Hits
#suminagashi on Instagram
Jenn Chen is a writer living in New York. When she’s not writing or marbling, she's probably lost in some internet rabbithole. Favorite rabbitholes: future of transit proposals, divination, untold histories, and TikTok life hacks. She is trying to get better at cooking, and less excellent at procrastinating. She is always down for a long walk.
Text & Photography by Jenn Chen
Video & Edits by Jenn Chen & NSC