The ShinsungHwa of John Milton (2019): Sacred Geometry Meets Literary Genius
What is ShinsungHwa?
ShinsungHwa is a unique form of spiritual art where drawings emerge through spontaneous, flowing movements. Artists tap into their subject’s energy and let Qi(氣) guide their hands, creating geometric patterns that serve as a universal language.
A Brief Look at John Milton’s ShinsungHwa
When I began drawing Milton’s ShinsungHwa, my hand moved toward the bottom of the paper, down near where his feet would be. Most ShinsungHwa paintings start from the spiritual core—that central point from which everything seems to radiate. But Milton was different. I found myself spending considerable time on the symbols that appeared in what I call the material realm, right there beneath his feet.
In that earthbound space, a symbol of the cosmic principle emerged. The form wasn’t quite complete, which I suspect has everything to do with the particular calling that was given to him. You see, the halo surrounding his body doesn’t start from above like you might expect. Instead, it begins at both ends of this material realm and curves upward in gentle arcs, making its way to the spiritual core. There, at that central point, sits a symbol of light, with energy radiating outward like ripples on water.
Milton was a deeply spiritual man, and his calling was to benefit the world around him. It’s no accident that he could write immortal classics like Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained—that spiritual foundation was always there, holding him up. When life threw its hardships at him, and there were plenty, he didn’t crumble. Instead, he found the passion to keep going, to keep creating. That strength came from somewhere beyond the everyday world, from that spiritual energy that shows up so clearly in his ShinsungHwa.
Quote
“The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”
— Paradise Lost
“Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.”
— Paradise Lost
“Solitude sometimes is best society.”
— Paradise Lost
“Long is the way and hard, that out of Hell leads up to light.”
— Paradise Lost
“All is not lost; the unconquerable will, and study of revenge, immortal hate, and courage never to submit or yield.”
— Paradise Lost
“For books are not absolutely dead things, but do contain a potency of life in them to be as active as that soul was whose progeny they are.”
— Areopagitica
“He who destroys a good book kills reason itself.”
— Areopagitica
“Give me the liberty to know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all liberties.”
— Areopagitica
The Poet Who Wrote About Angels and Devils: A Look at John Milton
Ever wondered what it would be like to write the story of everything’s beginning? John Milton did exactly that, crafting what became one of English literature’s most celebrated poems. But his tale isn’t just about the books he penned—it’s about a man who weathered England’s most turbulent times and never wavered in his convictions.
A Boy Who Chose Books Over Games
Born in London in 1608, when most children never saw the inside of a classroom, John Milton struck lucky. His father, a prosperous moneylender, could afford to keep young John away from the fields and buried in books instead.
Milton stood apart from other children early on. While they ran about outdoors, he devoured Latin and Greek texts by candlelight. His father spared no expense on tutors, and Milton absorbed languages like a sponge. By his teens, he’d mastered Latin, Greek, Hebrew, and several other tongues. Sure, his friends likely saw him as a bookworm, but Milton couldn’t care less. He nursed grander ambitions than childhood games.
The Student Who Challenged Convention
At Cambridge University, Milton wasn’t exactly Mr. Popular. He held fierce opinions on everything—especially religion—and never shied away from voicing them. Classmates dubbed him “The Lady of Christ’s College” for his flowing hair and refined features. The mockery barely fazed him; he was too absorbed in wrestling with profound questions about freedom, governance, and divine will.
Cambridge also marked Milton’s poetic awakening. His early verses showed promise, though they were mere warm-ups for what lay ahead. Seven years at university earned him two degrees and forged the ideas that would define his life’s work.
The Wanderer Who Embraced the World
After graduation, Milton took an unconventional path—a gap year that stretched to six. He retreated to his father’s countryside home, devouring every book within reach. Then, in 1638, he embarked on a European odyssey. In those days, such travel meant real adventure—perilous, costly, and measured in months.
France and Italy opened Milton’s eyes to new intellectual horizons. He rubbed shoulders with renowned writers and thinkers, even meeting Galileo, the astronomer who’d ruffled feathers by claiming Earth orbited the sun. These encounters revolutionized Milton’s thinking about science, art, and politics. He returned to England ready to reshape the world.
The Revolutionary Who Wielded Words
Milton came home to find England teetering on the brink of civil war. King Charles I and Parliament were locked in a power struggle, and Milton chose his side without hesitation. He believed monarchy shouldn’t hold absolute sway over people—a dangerous stance in those times. While others took up swords, Milton brandished his pen.
His pamphlets championed free speech and religious liberty. “Areopagitica,” his most celebrated essay, argued that people deserved the right to read and think independently, without government censorship. He even penned controversial defenses of divorce, shocking his deeply religious contemporaries.
When Parliament triumphed and executed Charles I in 1649, Milton was ecstatic. He landed a government position, crafting diplomatic correspondence and justifying the new regime’s actions. Yet this triumph proved fleeting.
The Blind Visionary Who Saw Everything
By his forties, Milton was losing his sight. Doctors proved helpless as darkness gradually claimed his world. Simultaneously, his beloved government crumbled, and the monarchy returned. Having supported the king’s execution, Milton faced mortal danger.
Friends helped him escape punishment, but his public career was finished. Blind, unemployed, and politically ruined, he might have surrendered to despair. Instead, Milton seized this as his moment to create the masterpiece he’d always envisioned.
Unable to write, he composed entirely in his mind, dictating to daughters and friends. Each morning found him pacing his home, perfecting the rhythm and meter of his verses before summoning someone to transcribe his mental creations.
The Epic That Nearly Never Was
“Paradise Lost” chronicles Satan’s rebellion against God and his expulsion from heaven, alongside Adam and Eve’s temptation and fall from Eden. This colossal work—over 10,000 lines—consumed several years of Milton’s life.
What set the poem apart wasn’t merely its scope, but Milton’s storytelling genius. He transformed Satan into a complex figure—not simply evil, but proud, cunning, and oddly sympathetic. Some readers even mistook Satan for the poem’s hero, which likely wasn’t Milton’s intention.
Published in 1667, the poem earned Milton a mere £10—roughly $200 today. He had no inkling he’d created what many consider English literature’s greatest epic.
Milton’s journey wasn’t smooth sailing. He clashed with countless people, made powerful enemies, and endured personal tragedies including the deaths of his first wife and several children. Yet he never abandoned his faith in human dignity and the power of words to transform minds. His impact on English literature remains immeasurable, and his ideas about freedom and individual conscience continue inspiring people today.
From bookish London boy to blind poet dictating masterpieces, John Milton proved that sometimes the mightiest weapons are words, and the greatest adventures unfold within our own minds.
