Days 426, 427 -Chinese Tea

The pleasure of tea is doubled 

when you have company sharing it.

Great having you over, Carmen, Claude, Fabiola, Veronique. 

Thank you for bringing your own cups. 

Happy to see familiar faces from way back and far away, Josje, Piikko, and Maria Ireland. 

Glad you like Chinese Tea.

Warm welcome back, Drora, Illona, Kikka 

You who have shared and have warmed my heart.

Grateful for the company of friends whom I have not spoken for a while and yet linger constantly in my thoughts, Birgit, Ewa, Betsy.

And always thrilled to share our regular chats again, Ro. 

You brought colours to my living room in the garden and gave nourishments to my tea. 

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Flowering tea leaves - Before

My dad loved Chinese tea. He taught me the subtle yet distinct differences between good and great Oolong and showed me the simple but rigid steps to brewing.

After

We learnt from him and mum how a cup of tea is more than just a beverage. It is a powerful instrument for expressing emotions that often beggar words; and it bridges what may appears to be the irreconcilable. 

For us Chinese, presenting a cup of tea on our knees is not simply saying I am sorry, it is also showing sorrow and remorse for having hurt so deeply. 

On your wedding day, it is an expression of immense gratitude for all the years your elders have loved, protected and gifted. That cup of tea says at once: thank you, I am now leaving your shelter and I am sad yet glad and I know you are glad yet sad too. It is that flash when your life before that cup of tea were instances when you were educated, scolded or praised. It was for all the tears and laughter leading up to this day when you are finally no longer a child but a man, woman, spouse and maybe parent.

I bought the 2 tiny teapots and the teacup from the National Palace Museum of Taiwan in 2009. Taiwan was also a special trip I made just with my mum and dad in 2013 over the Chinese New Year that year. 

In my little world and the abandoned house, that Chinese teacup from Taiwan will always be dad's special cup.

Days 426 & 427- The Garden's Living Room

If I am to sit in my garden, watch weeds grow, 

earth settles 

and stones erode; 

It will still be time better spent then meddling with the madness, 

chasing wants, 

lamenting regrets.

I knew when this abandoned house finally completes, the garden is where I will want to do most of my living. It is where I will sit, work, think when I am alone; chat, laugh, eat and drink when I am not. 

 

And so I built this living room of simple yet hardy furniture. A living room I can bring anywhere in the garden, for me; and you if you wish for my company; and of course, those special moments when I want a chat with the Old Man. 

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The humble beginnings. 

Much of the construction was in the painting.

Version 1 when I only used 1 piece for the table top. The final version had 3. 

Pillows made from trimmings and the tiniest, shiniest beads.

The Day He Left - Nirvana

This was a mini sculpture I made in October last year. Shortly after, my dad was taken ill and was admitted to the hospital. He never came home.

What do you say when someone you thought would be there always leave? Everything and nothing really. 

On 3 December 2015, we commemorated the 1 year since my dad left with a meal. I echo here my brother's words to him:

Hey dad. We bought some of your favourites tonight for dinner. It's been a year now. We're all doing great. And yes, we know you're with us. I know you always are.

Nirvana