“So, in 2016, yes, 2016, I started a project called the Teahouse–so, The Teahouse was about serving Tea and was to operate as a cafe in some capacity but it went much deeper than that for me.”
I decide to pick up my pace, seeing how intently the Skeleton listens–this symbol of death in many cultures passing here as a great counselor.
“I saw Tea as a unifying symbol since Tea is a beverage existing in many cultures, offered as a gesture of hospitality and warmth and for many other reasons that if you stick around long enough will hear. Tea of course is only one option of drink, as there are coffee drinkers out there–and some who just like.,.. water.” The skeleton hands me a conical, paper cup of it from a cooler nearby. It’s chilly. “Thank you”, I say, then continue, “The notion of Tea was just an excuse to gather to reflect on what it means to be human is, having participants share their own personal stories with others. I also wanted to incorporate analysis and self-reflection, having people ask themselves questions along the lines of who they are, why they believe what they do, why they see others the way they do, and their overall worldview. This was to be done with the intent of getting people to reflect on what makes them human, analyzing any beliefs they might have that don’t contribute much to their personal growth, that of society, or nature’s well-being.
“Uh huh.. not everyone’s cup of tea… but I see your point…. an instance of belonging…unfulfilled purpose. Being misunderstood…” On the ground the thread wiggles.. like a worm– inching from the end of the heart beat to… two ends… (it points to the ground.) explaining… “the beginning of the circuit of story and song…” one end neuron… (how is sound working here.. hmm..) (can bring piano music.. hmm) (how about the beat here..) hmm..
I take another sip and my teeth chatters, having the cup be handed by the skeleton makes it extra frigid. I gulp. “Right… so.. I managed to drag a few of my friends to participate in this project–while a few had an understanding of what the Teahouse was about, many just saw it as an excuse to meet people. I viewed the events we engaged in as being artistic, groundbreaking, wanting my friends to view it through the same lens–but I just couldn’t get them to see things the way I wanted. I thought that if I were to reframe the actual events in such a way as to make them fantastical, I could better capture and convey the essence of the Teahouse’s vision. I saw the phenomena of Harry Potter and how much excitement it generated and though my friends didn’t understand the scope of my vision, everyone agreed they felt they were being called unto something bigger–it was a shared feeling that somehow eluded us all, a vision we couldn’t quite form into our shared reality together.
I imagined that if I wrote a myth–something grand, exciting, and whimsical– blown to exaggerated proportion, much like Romulus and Remus in their founding of Rome (YES–I was THAT eager, ambitious, and nuts as the contents of this website will prove) –weaving fiction together with actual events, it would ground the vision, making it believable without compromising the integrity of an “external, objective” reality; perhaps then the Teahouse vision could be built, seen and shared.
But there was another problem…
I was trying to write a story after having suppressed my imagination for so long. But it did result in something, like the contents on this website here. I add, with I wave, as if presenting, a magic trick, and since it is my imagining, poof! the fog momentarily clears. Quite conveniently showing the faint silhouette of a billboard in the center of the Race Track. …I then clasp my hands back together dismally.. “It’s actually kind of embarrassing to be this vulnerable…. not sure if what I’m saying makes sense or if the following does.” The skeleton pats my back. Again, I’m unable to get up. The fog clouds the scene…. again.