Hexagram 41: Decrease

A winter landscape stripped to bone. Sesshū Tōyō, the Zen monk who traveled to Ming China in the 1460s, renders the scene in monochrome ink on paper—a few bare trees, jagged rocks, a solitary temple structure nearly swallowed by mountain mass. The 15th-century painting uses minimal brushwork, each stroke deliberate. No decoration survives winter's reduction. Snow implies itself through absence of ink, white paper becoming the substance of cold.

{artwork_reasoning}

This is Sǔn (損), the hexagram ancient diviners called Decrease. The character combines elements suggesting loss or reduction, but not as calamity—as deliberate subtraction. The trigram structure places Mountain (Gèn) above Lake (Duì): the mountain rising high while the lake drains below, water descending to nourish what lies beneath. In Sesshū's landscape, the visual vocabulary contracts to essentials. What remains after reduction carries greater weight than what accumulates through addition. Zhou Dynasty court records show this configuration appearing when rulers reduced palace expenses to relieve famine, when generals lightened supply trains for faster movement.

The Judgment text addresses the principle directly: "Decrease combined with sincerity brings about supreme good fortune without blame. One may be persevering in this. It furthers one to undertake something. How is this to be carried out? Two small bowls may be used for the sacrifice." The text instructs that even ritual offerings can be reduced when done with genuine intent. Sesshū's painting embodies this counsel—the monk reduces landscape to its structural truth, eliminating the decorative detail that characterized Chinese academic painting. What the brush omits becomes as significant as what it records. Song Dynasty diviners understood decrease not as poverty but as concentration, the way winter reduces the tree to reveal its essential form.

The Image Text observes: "At the foot of the mountain, the lake: the image of Decrease. Thus the superior person controls anger and restrains instincts." Water drains from the heights to gather in the depths, a natural movement downward. Sesshū's winter landscape shows this principle in visual form—the high peaks bare and austere, their substance having descended to nourish the valley below. In the I-Ching's sequence, Sǔn follows Xiè (deliverance from obstruction): after tension releases, one must decrease excess to establish sustainable balance. The winter scene does not depict loss but clarification, the way subtracting ornament reveals what endures beneath.