Reflection in the cup; a moment where the world suspends itself around my deaf ears and I tune most into my tongue — senses swirl, existence completes. Who am I? The question is suddenly less of a bugger, since it hardly matters: I enjoy, I receive, I am. The ritual restores me.
everywhere / anytime / n/a
In the dimness of the morning, in the peaceful daily resurrection of passionate labor, the roaster approaches his tools. There is a hum from the awakening city, the thrum of the rotating barrel, the rising heat filling the space. There is ritual—the sleepy pourover, the clutched mug of coffee, the calculations of pounds, origins, and orders.
And thus begins the day’s work.
Kansas City, Missouri / early morning / Broadway Café & Roasting Company