自性覚れば即ち是れ佛なり is a Zen quote that means “If one realizes one's own nature, one becomes a Buddha.”

The inference here is that if you understand who you really are, and become truly aware of yourself and your original nature, you are well on your way to becoming a liberated person (a Buddha).

Note: Because this selection contains some special Japanese Hiragana characters, it should be written by a Japanese calligrapher.

三人行必有我师 means “when three people meet, one becomes the teacher.”

This famous Chinese philosophy suggests that when people come together, they can always learn from each other.

One person must be the teacher and others learn. And in turn, the others become the teachers of the knowledge they possess.

It is important to remember that we all have something to teach, and we all have something to learn as well.

學生 is how to write “student” in Chinese, pre-WWII Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

If you are a “student of life,” this might be an interesting wall scroll to hang in your reading room.

The first character means “study” or “learning.”
The second character means “life” or “birth.” Don't read too much into that second character unless you decide that this means “the birth of studies” or “the life of learning.” Everyone in China, Japan (and those who can read Hanja in Korea) will just read this word with the meaning of “student.”

If you put the character for “little” in front of this word, it becomes “elementary school student.” Prefixed with “middle,” it becomes “middle school student.” Prefixed with “big,” it becomes “university student” (though when these two characters for student are seen alone, it often suggests “university student”). The term “high school student” is written differently.

There is a very common simplified version of the first character for this word. You will see this form in modern Japan and mainland China, Singapore, and other places. If you want this simplified version, please click on the character shown to the right instead of the "select and customize" button above.

家とは心がある場所だ is, “Home is where the heart is,” in Japanese.

Most Japanese will take this to mean:
If you are with the person or at the place you love most, it becomes your true home.

Note: Because this selection contains some special Japanese Hiragana characters, it should be written by a Japanese calligrapher.

不气不愁活到白头 is a Chinese proverb that means “Without anger or worry, you will have a long life, until after all your hair is white.”

It more literally reads, “Don't get angry or worried [and you will] live [long] till [all your] hair [becomes] white.”

見性成佛 is a universal phrase that suggests that one may see one's nature and accomplish Buddhahood.

見性 suggests penetrating deep inside oneself to see one's “Original finally Mind.”

成佛 refers to a sentient being who dispenses with illusions and delusions through ascetic practice, is enlightened to the truth, and becomes a Buddha.

This is used by Mahayana, Chan, and Zen Buddhists in China, Korea, and Japan.

You will also see this with the last character written as 仏 in Japanese. In the religious context, 佛 is commonly used to mean Buddha. If you want the other version, see Kenshō Jōbutsu 見性成仏

挨一拳得一招挨十拳變諸葛 is a Chinese proverb that literally translates as: Receive one blow, [and one] learns a lesson; Receive ten blows, [and one] becomes a great Zhuge [Liang].

You must first understand that a man named Zhuge Liang was one of the great strategists and philosophers in Chinese history. He's known as a man of great wisdom.

Figuratively, this phrase means:
One can learn much from failure or “hard knocks.”

心澄淨 is the Buddhist concept of the pure and calm mind. It is believed that once you achieve a meditative state of pure focused thought, the mind becomes clear and calm. Although, others will say this means that achieving a calm mind will allow you to reach pure thought.

From Sanskrit, this is known as citta-prasāda. The concept of citta-prasāda is sometimes defined as “clear heart-mind,” or “the single and definitive aspiration.”

無事 is a Zen Buddhist term meaning no problem and no trouble.

無事 is the Zen state of perfect freedom from troubles and leaving secular affairs behind.

Sometimes this is used to describe the state of satori and complete tranquility of mind.

Written as 無事に with an extra Hiragana at the end, this becomes an adverb to describe something in the condition of safety, peace, quietness, and without troubles.

無事 (Buji) can also be a given name in Japan.

This has more meaning in the Japanese Zen Buddhist community than in China or Korea, where it can mean “be free” or “nothing to do or worry about.”

美容店 is how to write “Beauty Shop” or “Beauty Salon.”

If you own such a business, this will make a nice wall scroll to hang up - and many of your Asian customers will be able to read and appreciate it.

When traveling in China, you will see signs like this in the window of any place that offers full services of hair styling, manicures, pedicures, and often shampoo with head and back massage.

However, as a handmade wall scroll, this becomes a very fancy piece of artwork that shows the high class of your business (a great sign for your window if you don't get direct sunlight).

家庭/傢庭 is a common way to express family, household, or home in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

However, for a wall scroll, we recommend the single-character form (which is just the first character of this two-character word). If you want that, just click here: Family Single-Character

The first character means “family” or “home.” The second means “courtyard” or “garden.” When combined, the meaning is a bit different, as it becomes “household” or “family.” The home and/or property traditionally has a strong relationship with family in Asia. Some Chinese, Korean, and Japanese families have lived in the same house for 7 or more generations!

月 is how to write the title for “moon” in Chinese, Korean Hanja, and Japanese Kanji.

月 is also used to refer to the month. This is because China traditionally uses a lunar calendar, so saying “next moon” is the same as saying “next month” etc.
In modern Chinese and Japanese and old Korean, the character for a number is put in front of this moon character to represent western months. So “one moon” is January “two moons” is February etc.

If you are wondering, in the east Asian way to write dates, the character for “sun” or “day” is used with a number in front of it to express the day of the month. So “ten moons, one sun” becomes “October 1st” or “10/1” (this date happens to be Chinese National Day - The equivalent of Independence Day in the USA, Canada Day, or the Queen's Birthday).

In Japanese, 月 can be a surname that romanizes as Tsuki, Tsukizaki, or Takagetsu.

劍 is pronounced “jian” in Chinese. When you say it, imagine that you are making the sound of a sword as it clashes with a metal shield. This might get you closer to the correct pronunciation in Chinese.

I actually wonder if this word came from the metallic ringing sounds of a sword in battle - but such knowledge is lost in history.

The sword is a symbol of a warrior. The one thing that a soldier in ancient China lived and died by. A warrior with his skills and sword proves himself of great value. A warrior who losses his sword instantly becomes worthless.

劍 is an excellent scroll for someone in the military (especially officers of all services - as well as enlisted NCO Marines since they still carry swords even if mainly for ceremonial purposes). Or perhaps someone who practices variations of kung fu or tai chi that involve weapons.

Please note that while this character is understood with the sword meaning in Japanese, you might be looking for the word “katana” which also means sword in Japanese but means “knife” in Chinese.

There are other ways to write sword, and here are a few...

If you are particular about the version you receive, please let me know when you place your order (Note: Special styles are only available from one of our master calligraphers).

Chapter 27 of the Daodejing reveals a profound truth about mastery: the highest skill leaves no trace, requires no force, and appears almost invisible.

善行無轍跡， 善言無瑕謫， 善數不用籌策， 善閉無關鍵而不可開， 善結無繩約而不可解。 是以聖人常善救人， 故無棄人； 常善救物， 故無棄物。 是謂襲明。 故善人者，不善人之師； 不善人者，善人之資。 不貴其師，不愛其資， 雖智大迷， 是謂要妙。

The sage moves through life with such natural harmony that nothing seems imposed; doors need no locks, knots require no rope, and actions leave no mark behind.

This is the essence of wúwéi (effortless action), where true ability arises from deep alignment with the Tao rather than deliberate effort.

At its heart, this chapter teaches compassion without exception. The sage “abandons no one and nothing,” recognizing value in all people and all things. Even those who seem flawed or unrefined are not rejected, but understood as part of a greater whole with each person both a student and a teacher in the unfolding of life.

Laozi reminds us that wisdom is not about perfection or control, but about subtle awareness. The truly skilled individual does not rely on tools, rules, or rigid structures; instead, they embody an intuitive understanding that makes their actions naturally complete.

In this way, excellence becomes quiet, effortless, and beyond imitation.

This teaching also reflects a deeper philosophical insight: Opposites are interdependent. The “good” person learns from the “not good,” and the “not good” provides the material for growth. To reject either is to misunderstand the balance of existence itself.

As calligraphy, Daodejing Chapter 27 serves as a reminder to cultivate inner mastery rather than outward display. It is a meditation on refinement, humility, and the quiet power of skill perfected through harmony with the natural order.

Note: The Chinese text used here is based on the early Mawangdui silk manuscript tradition (2nd century BCE). The Guodian manuscripts do NOT preserve Chapter 27 in full form.

During the Tang Dynasty, a man named Jia Dao (born in the year 779), a well-studied scholar and poet, went to the capital to take the imperial examination.

One day as he rides a donkey through the city streets, a poem begins to form in his mind. A portion of the poem comes into his head like this:

“The bird sits on the tree branch near a pond,
A monk approaches and knocks at the gate...”

At the same time, he wondered if the word “push” would be better than “knock” in his poem.

As he rides down the street, he imagines the monk pushing or knocking. Soon he finds himself making motions of pushing and shaking a fist in a knocking motion as he debates which word to use. He is quite a sight as he makes his way down the street on his donkey with hands and fists flying about as the internal debate continues.

As he amuses people along the street, he becomes completely lost in his thoughts and does not see the mayor's procession coming in the opposite direction. Jia Bao is blocking the way for the procession to continue down the road, and the mayor's guards immediately decide to remove Jia Bao by force. Jia Bao, not realizing that he was in the way, apologizes, explains his poetic dilemma and awaits his punishment for blocking the mayor's way.

The mayor, Han Yu, a scholar and author of prose himself, finds himself intrigued by Jia Dao's poem and problem. Han Yu gets off his horse and addresses Jia Bao, stating, “I think knock is better.” The relieved Jia Bao raises his head and is invited by the mayor to join the procession, and are seen riding off together down the street, exchanging their ideas and love of poetry.

In modern Chinese, this 反復推敲 idiom is used when someone is trying to decide which word to use in their writing or when struggling to decide between two things when neither seems to have a downside.

拳法 is a form of martial arts that can be translated in several ways.

Some will call it “fist principles,” “the way of the fist,” or even “law of the fist.” The first character literally means fist. The second can mean law, method, way, principle, or Buddhist teaching.

Kempo is really a potluck of martial arts. Often a combination of Chinese martial arts such as Shaolin Kung Fu with Japanese martial arts such as Karate, Jujutsu (Jujitsu), Aikido, and others. You may see the term “Kempo Karate,” which basically means Karate with other disciplines added. In this way, Kempo becomes an adjective rather than a title or school of martial arts.

These facts will long be argued by various masters and students of Kempo. Even the argument as to whether it should be spelled “kenpo” or “Kempo” ensues at dojos around the world (the correct Romaji should actually be “kenpou” if you precisely follow the rules).

The benefit of Kempo is that the techniques are easier to learn and master than pure Kung Fu (wu shu). Students are often taught basic Karate moves, kicks, and punches before augmenting the basic skills with complex Kung Fu techniques. This allows students of Kempo to achieve a level where they can defend themselves or fight in a relatively short amount of time (a few years rather than a decade or more).

Because the definition of this word is so fluid, I should make some notes here:

1. Purists in Okinawa will claim that “Okinawa Kenpo” or “Ryukyu Hon Kenpo” is the original and true version of this martial art from the old kingdom. It is actually little or no connection between Okinawa Kenpo and the way the word is used elsewhere.

2. In Chinese, where these characters are pronounced “quan fa” (sometimes Romanized as “chuan fa” because the Chinese-pinyin “q” actually sounds like an English “ch” sound), these characters do not hold the connotation of being a mixed martial art. It is simply defined as “the law of the fist.”

3. My Japanese dictionary oddly defines Kenpo as the “Chinese art of self-defense.” I personally don't feel this is the most common way that people perceive the word but just something you should know.