How Carving a Chinese Seal Soothed My Sudden Anxiety

During the Spring Festival holiday, I carved myself a seal. The words on it are “风物长宜放眼量”—basically, “Take a broader view of things.” I ended up laying it out in three columns.
The stone I used was a piece of Qingtian new mine material, about 2.5 by 3 centimeters. The knife was a Yongzi brand “Song” series carving knife, 6.5 millimeters wide.

That phrase comes from a poem. What it means is: life’s gonna throw all kinds of frustrations your way, so you gotta keep your sights wide and your heart open. Don’t get all tangled up in the struggles right in front of you—step back, look at the long game, whether it’s work or just life in general. Learn to let things slide with people, don’t sweat every little win or loss. Face it all with a wider, more easy-going spirit.

Once I decided to carve this, first thing I did was dig out my seal-script dictionary. I looked up every character in that line—”风,” “物,” “长,” “宜,” “放,” “眼,” “量”—and sketched each one out on a blank sheet of paper. Just lined ’em all up. Then came the arranging part, playing with the shapes of the characters until the layout felt right. This three-column setup was the one that clicked.
I’m still a beginner at this. Most of what I’ve done so far is copying Han-dynasty seals. This one was my own composition, created from scratch. So the whole design was just whatever pleased my eye—no rules, just instinct.
I started around four or five in the afternoon. Looking up characters, drafting, transferring the design onto the stone, then finally putting knife to stone.

Looking back, the finished seal didn’t quite live up to that first sketch. But hey, my skill’s only so far along, and this is really just for the joy of it. I wrapped up sometime after midnight.
So why this seal, at this particular moment? Like the inscription says, I was already home for the holiday, tending to family stuff, when out of nowhere a work emergency landed in my lap. Had to deal with it. Got it sorted, but my mood was pretty sour. After handling that mess, I sat down and carved this white-character seal.
The thing I love about carving seals—it’s the whole process. Getting my tools ready: the vise, the knives, that little brush. Flipping on the desk lamp, sitting down, spreading out the carving mat. Clamping the stone in the vise, writing out the draft. Then the carving itself, pushing the knife forward in long cuts, listening to that sound—the blade scratching through the stone. Watching those marks build up, one after another. Feels like all the frustration inside me is being carved away, chiseled out, gone with every stroke.