Driven across rough rice paper, dip a brush to let black ink blossom into innumerable hues. The Tingology rhythmic play of light and shadow lets one easily lose oneself. An ink painting course is a rebirth for your creativity, not only an art education.

Imagine sitting with fine black dust covering your hands. An old hand, the instructor quips about how even Picasso most likely stained his arms. Though you smile, you really feel relief. Perfect is not necessary; everything here is about catching vitality above exactitude.

The class does not go silent. Happy accidents—ink trails flowing in unforeseen loops, paper swallowing up the pigment in crazy, fascinating ways—are laughed about. Mei, the teacher, advises “let the ink do what it wants.” She occasionally throws water onto the sheet to demonstrate how messy splatters may grow to be a tree, a wave, a dragon’s whisker.

Every session you trade hopes for tests. You paint just with sticks one week. The next may be a feather. Little stories begin to show up in the swirls and smears. One resembles a mountain road buried in mist, while another might be a swarm of birds swooping at sunset. The teacher enjoys your guesses and spins historical tales to suit whatever is appropriate.

You discover you’re starting to relax. Suddenly, color is irrelevant; it is not missing. The great patience of ink helps you to slow down and value negative space. It is really meditative. You stop chewing your nails about “bad” results somewhere along the path. The book surprises you sometimes; sometimes a disaster becomes your favorite. It turns out that your imagination is still very active.

One student in class complains at their unsteady lines. “Wobbly lines are alive,” Mei explains. Dead lines are reserved for robots. The class starts to laugh wildly. And frankly? Every slip of the hand begins to show power. You create when you let go.

You won’t be lost here if you have not picked up a brush since grade school. Try, fail, laugh, repeat; the lessons are straightforward. Though no one evaluates the outcomes, people trade advice. Even old-timers try something strange and novel. You leave every time grinning from ear to ear and with black fingertips. When you can wildly spray ink, who needs therapy?

All set to fan that spark again? This course is evidence: falling in love with art can be messy, impulsive, and far more enjoyable than you could have ever imagined.