My fingers are brittle cold despite me being wrapped up and as I pour hot water into my mug, the steam fills the air with tendrils and curls of damp vapour.
The studio fills with the scent of tea ... a sweet ethereal perfume that swirls around my head. I am grateful I can finally catch the aroma - I have been 'wearing' a slight but irritating cold with a lingering cracked throat voice and 'on-the-edge-of-a-sneeze' tingling nose. Enough now - please.
I have a list looking at me - not as long as it has been, but never the less - a list that requires doing and doing now .... preferably yesterday.
I tried to soften the impact, make it look less demanding by practicing my faux calligraphy. All it has served is my need to improve my hand-lettering and to accentuate how soon we all have to be ready for TAM18. One week to go.
A raft of new artists, new to the village, new to the event, will need cossetting, shepherding and directing - making sure that what we supply is as promised and what they supply is as promised too. We have have been let down before and it reflects on the event(us) rather than just the artist.
That sunshine I mentioned earlier? Gone. Fortunately my mug of tea is providing what that ray of light did not manage - warmer hands.
Going back to the scent of tea - I struggled to give that smell a description - I could have used words like grass or floral, earthy or leafy - none felt right. Tea often imparts the scent of things which influenced the mother plant's surroundings - the soil, the rain, the climate - the way it is processed and finally how it was stored. However, it is a scent that, like freshly brewed coffee or newly baked bread - is delicious and seared in my memory.
Tea drunk, blog post waffled, list temporarily
Have a good weekend x
My pip-grown 12 year old avocado tree.
He lives outside during the summer,
returning home for the winter where he snuggles up against the radiator ...
Cossetted plant ...