One mark, repeated, once a day: a circle in one breath, or one letterform thirty times down a page. Today's sheet sits beside yesterday's and nothing else happens. No score, no streak, no judgment of the mark, because getting better is not what the practice is for.
Today's sheet
Undated. Draw, then keep it.
The sheet is yours and the page says nothing about it. Pen and paper do this better; this is for the days you do not have them.
Today, and yesterday
Sheets kept
The honest limit, stated first. The circle read as a single breath revealing a state of mind is a twentieth century Western reception, and the earliest wording anyone has found for it in English is far later than the practice. Sengai's own inscription on the circle everyone reproduces says, in translation, eat this and have a cup of tea. The claim that repeating one mark changes consciousness has no measurement behind it at all. What it demonstrably builds is motor skill and a visible record of small variation, which is not nothing and is not transcendence. Albers kept one format for twenty six years and called it a cooking pot. Martin used a ruler and told you exactly what the grid meant, which was hers and not yours.