改變 can mean to change, become different, or transform.

This can refer to the changing world or a person who changes their attitude or something about themselves.

Note: An alternate version of the second character is used in Japanese. This is actually an old alternate Chinese form which is seldom seen in China anymore. If you want this version, please click on the Kanji shown to the right instead of the "Select and Customize" button.

風雲變幻 is a Chinese proverb that means “wind of change” or “changeable situation.”

The first character, 風, means wind, but when combined with the second character, 風雲, you have weather, winds and clouds, nature, or the elements. Colloquially, this can refer to an unstable situation or state of affairs.

The last two characters, 變幻, mean change or fluctuate.

乗り換える is the Japanese way to say “move on.” This can also be translated as “to change one's mind,” “to change methods,” or “to change one's way of thinking.” For instance, if you changed your love interest or political ideology, you might describe the act of that change with this title.

Colloquially in Japan, this is also used to describe the act of transferring trains or changing from one bus or train to another.

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

君子豹変す is a Japanese proverb that suggests that a wise man is willing to change his mind, but a fool will stubbornly never change his.

The first word is 君子 (kunshi), a man of virtue, a person of high rank, a wise man.

The second word is 豹変 (hyouhen), sudden change, complete change.

The last part, す (su), modifies the verb to a more humble form.

The “fool” part is merely implied or understood. So if wise and noble people are willing to change their minds, it automatically says that foolish people are unwilling to change.

This is the serenity prayer, as used by many 12-step programs and support groups.

In Chinese, this says:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

This is a Japanese version of the serenity prayer, as used by many 12-step programs and support groups.

In Japanese, this says:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

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

刻舟求劍 is an originally-Chinese proverb that serves as a warning to people that things are always in a state of change.

Thus, you must consider that and not depend on the old ways or a way that may have worked in the past but is no longer valid.

This idiom/proverb comes from the following story:
A man was traveling in a ferry boat across a river. With him, he carried a treasured sword. Along the way, the man became overwhelmed and intoxicated by the beautiful view and accidentally dropped his prized sword into the river. Thinking quickly, he pulled out a knife and marked on the rail of the boat where exactly he had lost his sword.

When the boat arrived on the other side of the river, the man jumped out of the boat and searched for his sword right under where he'd made the mark. Of course, the boat had moved a great distance since he made the mark, and thus, he could not find the sword.

While this man may seem foolhardy, we must take a great lesson from this parable: Circumstances change, so one should use methods to handle the change. In modern China, this is used in business to mean that one should not depend on old business models for a changing market.

This proverb dates back to the Spring and Autumn period (770–476 BC) of the territory now known as China. It has spread and is somewhat known in Japan and Korea.

This Chinese word means to progress, increase, or change day by day.

It suggests something getting better one day at a time or with each passing day.

演化 means to evolve or evolution in Chinese.

The first character means to develop, evolve, practice, perform, or extend.

The second character means to make into, to change into, to transform, or to metamorphose.

Alone, this word means quite sitting, to sit quietly, or to meditate.

If you add and change the context a bit, this could mean to stage a sit-in (perhaps a non-violent protest by Buddhist monks or people). But again, as a single word as calligraphy art, it is the sitting quietly in meditation meaning that will be perceived.

靈活性 is a Chinese and Korean word that means flexibility or being open to change.

You consider others' ideas and feelings and don't insist on your own way. Flexibility gives you creative new ways to get things done. Flexibility helps you to keep changing for the better. 靈活性 could also be defined as having a “flexible nature.”

See Also:  Cooperation

This means Shapeshifter in Chinese.

The first word, 變形, means deformation, to become deformed, to change shape, or to morph.

The last word, 者, refers to a person. It can mean “the one who is” or “the one which,” making this whole title literally mean “The one who changes shape.”

革新 means innovate or innovation in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

The literal meaning is “new leather,” but you must understand that colloquially, this leather character also means renewal, reform, change, or transformation.

While the first character is leather or reform, the second character strictly means “new.”

動 is the only Chinese/Japanese/Korean word that can encompass the idea of “dynamic” into one character.

動 can also mean:
to use; to act; to move; to change; motion; stir.

In the Buddhist context, it means: Movement arises from the nature of wind which is the cause of motion.

The key point of this word is that it represents motion or always moving. Some might say “lively” or certainly the opposite of something that is stagnant or dead.

Note: In Japanese, this can also be a female given name, Yurugi.

誰も信じるな is as close as you can get to the phrase “trust no man” in Japanese, though no gender is specified.

The first two characters mean everyone or anyone but change to “no one” with the addition of a negative verb.

The third through fifth characters express the idea of believing in, placing trust in, confiding in, or having faith in.

The last character makes the sentence negative (without the last character, this would mean “trust everyone,” with that last character, it's “trust no one”).

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

愛人 means lover, sweetheart, spouse, husband, wife, or beloved in Chinese, Japanese Kanji, and old Korean Hanja.

The first character means “love,” and the second means “person.”

This title can be used in many different ways, depending on the context. Husbands and wives may use this term for each other. But, if you change the context, this title could be used to mean “mistress.” It's pretty similar to the way we can use “lover” in many different ways in English.

In modern Japan, this lover title has slipped into the definition of mistress and is not good for a wall scroll.

無常の風 is an old Japanese proverb that means the wind of impermanence or the wind of change in Japanese.

This can refer to the force that ends life, like the wind scattering a flower's petals. Life is yet another impermanent existence that is fragile, blown out like a candle.

The first two characters mean uncertainty, transiency, impermanence, mutability, variable, and/or changeable.

In some Buddhist contexts, 無常 can be analogous to a spirit departing at death (with a suggestion of the impermanence of life).

The last two characters mean “of wind” or a possessive like “wind of...” but Japanese grammar will have the wind come last in the phrase.

繁栄 is the same “prosperity” as the Traditional Chinese version, except for a slight change in the way the second character is written (it's the Japanese Kanji deviation from the original/ancient Chinese form).

Chinese people will still be able to read this, though you should consider this to be the Japanese form (better if your audience is Japanese).

Sometimes, the Kanji form shown to the right is used in Japanese. It will depend on the calligrapher's mood as to which form you may receive. If you have a preference, please let us know at the time of your order.

改善 means betterment, improvement, to make better, or to improve - specifically incremental and continuous improvement.

改善 became very important in post-war Japan when Edwards Deming came to Japan to teach concepts of incremental and continuous improvement (for which the big 3 auto-makers did not want to hear about at the time - even kicking Deming out of their offices). The Japanese workforce absorbed this concept when their culture was in flux and primed for change.

This kaizen term is closely associated with the western title “Total Quality Management.” Perhaps dear to my heart since I spent years studying this at university before I moved to China where TQM did not seem to exist. Slowly, this concept has entered China as well (I've actually given lectures on the subject in Beijing).

If you are trying to improve processes at your business or need to remind yourself of your continuous TQM goals, this would be a great wall scroll to hang behind your desk or in your workplace.

See Also:  Kansei

榮 relates to giving someone a tribute or praise.

It's a little odd as a gift, so this may not be the best selection for a wall scroll.

I've made this entry because this character is often misused as “honorable” or “keeping your honor.” It's not quite the same meaning, as this usually refers to a tribute or giving an honor to someone.

榮 is often found in tattoo books incorrectly listed as the western idea of personal honor or being honorable. Check with us before you get a tattoo that does not match the meaning you are really looking for. As a tattoo, this suggests that you either have a lot of pride in yourself or that you have a wish for prosperity for yourself and/or your family.

In modern Japanese Kanji, glory and honor look like the image to the right.

There is a lot of confusion about this character, so here are some alternate translations for this character: prosperous, flourishing, blooming (like a flower), glorious beauty, proud, praise, rich, or it can be the family name “Rong.” The context in which the character is used can change the meaning between these various ideas.

In the old days, this could be an honor paid to someone by the Emperor (basically a designation by the Emperor that a person has high standing).

To sum it up: 榮 has a positive meaning; however, it's a different flavor than the idea of being honorable and having integrity.

伊斯蘭教 both means and sounds like “Islam” in Mandarin Chinese.

The first three characters sound like the word “Islam,” and the last character means “religion” or “teaching.” It's the most general term for “Islam” in China. The highest concentration of Muslims in China is Xinjiang (the vast region in northwest China that was called The East Turkistan Republic until 1949 and is sometimes called Chinese Turkistan, Uyghuristan). Here you will find Uygurs, Kazakhs, Kyrgyz, and others that are descendants of Turkmen (possibly mixed with Persians and Arabs). Many of their ancestors were traders who traveled the silk road to buy and sell spices and silk and exchange other goods from the Orient and the Middle East.

I spent some time in Xinjiang and got to know this community. They are strong people who can endure much. They are friendly and love to have a good time. I was a stranger but was treated by villagers (near China's border with Afghanistan) as if I was a good friend.
However, I have heard that it's best not to cross them, as in this land, the law is the blade, and everything is “eye for an eye.” The Chinese government has little control in Xinjiang, with almost no police officers except in the capital of Urumqi (so it's a 60-hour roundtrip train ride to seek the aid of law enforcement in most cases).

While few seem devout, there are at least small mosques in every village. And you will never see a man or woman outside without a head covering.

It should be noted that these people are all citizens of China, but they are officially of the Caucasian race. A visit to Xinjiang will change your idea of what it means to be Chinese.

This 氣 energy flow is a fundamental concept of traditional Asian culture.

氣 is romanized as “Qi” or “Chi” in Chinese, “Gi” in Korean, and “Ki” in Japanese.
Chi is believed to be part of everything that exists, as in “life force” or “spiritual energy.” It is most often translated as “energy flow” or literally as “air” or “breath.” Some people will simply translate this as “spirit,” but you must consider the kind of spirit we're talking about. I think this is weighted more toward energy than spirit.

The character itself is a representation of steam (or breath) rising from rice. To clarify, the character for rice looks like this:
Steam was apparently seen as visual evidence of the release of “life energy” when this concept was first developed. The Qi / Chi / Ki character is still used in compound words to mean steam or vapor.
The etymology of this character is a bit complicated. It's suggested that the first form of this character from bronze script (about 2500 years ago) looked like these samples:
However, it was easy to confuse this with the character for the number three. So the rice radical was added by 221 B.C. (the exact time of this change is debated). This first version with the rice radical looks like this:
The idea of Qi / Chi / Ki is really a philosophical concept. It's often used to refer to the “flow” of metaphysical energy that sustains living beings. Yet there is much debate that has continued for thousands of years as to whether Qi / Chi / Ki is pure energy or consists partially or fully of matter.

You can also see the character for Qi / Chi / Ki in common compound words such as Tai Chi / Tai Qi, Aikido, Reiki, and Qi Gong / Chi Kung.

In the modern Japanese Kanji, the rice radical has been changed into two strokes that form an X.

The original and traditional Chinese form is still understood in Japanese, but we can also offer that modern Kanji form in our custom calligraphy. If you want this Japanese Kanji, please click on the character to the right instead of the “Select and Customize” button above.

More language notes: This is pronounced like “chee” in Mandarin Chinese, and like “key” in Japanese.
This is also the same way to write this in Korean Hanja where it is Romanized as “gi” and pronounced like “gee” but with a real G-sound, not a J-sound.
Though Vietnamese no longer use Chinese characters in their daily language, this character is still widely known in Vietnam.

See Also:  Energy | Life Force | Vitality | Life | Birth | Soul

Long ago in what is now China, there were many kingdoms throughout the land. This time period is known as “The Warring States Period” by historians because these kingdoms often did not get along with each other.

Sometime around 279 B.C. the Kingdom of Chu was a large but not particularly powerful kingdom. Part of the reason it lacked power was the fact that the King was surrounded by “yes men” who told him only what he wanted to hear. Many of the King's court officials were corrupt and incompetent which did not help the situation.

The King was not blameless himself, as he started spending much of his time being entertained by his many concubines.

One of the King's ministers, Zhuang Xin, saw problems on the horizon for the Kingdom, and warned the King, “Your Majesty, you are surrounded by people who tell you what you want to hear. They tell you things to make you happy and cause you to ignore important state affairs. If this is allowed to continue, the Kingdom of Chu will surely perish, and fall into ruins.”

This enraged the King who scolded Zhuang Xin for insulting the country and accused him of trying to create resentment among the people. Zhuang Xin explained, “I dare not curse the Kingdom of Chu but I feel that we face great danger in the future because of the current situation.” The King was simply not impressed with Zhuang Xin's words.
Seeing the King's displeasure with him and the King's fondness for his court of corrupt officials, Zhuang Xin asked permission from the King that he may take leave of the Kingdom of Chu, and travel to the State of Zhao to live. The King agreed, and Zhuang Xin left the Kingdom of Chu, perhaps forever.

Five months later, troops from the neighboring Kingdom of Qin invaded Chu, taking a huge tract of land. The King of Chu went into exile, and it appeared that soon, the Kingdom of Chu would no longer exist.

The King of Chu remembered the words of Zhuang Xin and sent some of his men to find him. Immediately, Zhuang Xin returned to meet the King. The first question asked by the King was “What can I do now?”

Zhuang Xin told the King this story:

A shepherd woke one morning to find a sheep missing. Looking at the pen saw a hole in the fence where a wolf had come through to steal one of his sheep. His friends told him that he had best fix the hole at once. But the Shepherd thought since the sheep is already gone, there is no use fixing the hole.
The next morning, another sheep was missing. And the Shepherd realized that he must mend the fence at once. Zhuang Xin then went on to make suggestions about what could be done to reclaim the land lost to the Kingdom of Qin, and reclaim the former glory and integrity of the Kingdom of Chu.

The Chinese idiom shown above came from this reply from Zhuang Xin to the King of Chu almost 2,300 years ago.
It translates roughly into English as...
“Even if you have lost some sheep, it's never too late to mend the fence.”

This proverb, 亡羊补牢犹未为晚, is often used in modern China when suggesting in a hopeful way that someone change their ways, or fix something in their life. It might be used to suggest fixing a marriage, quitting smoking, or getting back on track after taking an unfortunate path in life among other things one might fix in their life.

I suppose in the same way that we might say, “Today is the first day of the rest of your life” in our western cultures to suggest that you can always start anew.

Note: This does have Korean pronunciation but is not a well-known proverb in Korean (only Koreans familiar with ancient Chinese history would know it). Best if your audience is Chinese.