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02/12/2021
Floyd
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42
Draw the Tàn Chá in the teahouse
Yuen squirmed in uncertainty. How was this going to work? He sat quietly musing in a remote corner of the old stone teahouse somewhere in the mountains of Sichuan. Draw the Tàn Chá, his master had said to him, and you will understand.
An allegory, then, the image of a sensual feeling, smells, tastes, the pleasure of tea. Yuen stared at the sooty boiling copper kettles, the glowing cast-iron plates of the wood-fired stoves, the teacups on the battered bricks. The sheet of paper in his left, the charcoal in his right, he tried to become one with what was there. The tart mist of black tea, voluminous yet with bright Hesperidian highs flickered in fine threads over the cups. Soon fresh, delicately herbaceous, almost hay-like scents of green tea blazed through the parlor, moistening the brown mosses on the wooden benches, before from the stone floor the warm spicy smoke of lapsang souchong drifted into Yuen's charcoal, which soon in his hand now began to draw contours and edges, coolly enriching the warmth.
Then, as Yuen began to close his eyes, he thought he smelled the earth from outside, the scent of the ground after the rain, surrendering to the big picture, allowing itself to sweeten the tea in the parlor. Then Yuen understood the teacher's words and became part of the Tàn Chá in the teahouse.
**
Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, of North Boulder, Colorado, moves her fragrances in the fluid borderlands between perfumes, bespoke, aromatherapy, and collaborations with artists. With Tea and Charcoal, she impressively manages to present the individual tea notes separately at first before bringing them together into a warm, slightly smoky overall composition. For me, the most authentic tea scent to date, standing on an earthy ground through oakmoss, patchouly and mitti attar, given cool edges by charcoal and a hint of birch tar. Unfortunately, the tea ceremony lingers only good four hours rather quietly on the skin.
(With thanks to Bloodxclat)
An allegory, then, the image of a sensual feeling, smells, tastes, the pleasure of tea. Yuen stared at the sooty boiling copper kettles, the glowing cast-iron plates of the wood-fired stoves, the teacups on the battered bricks. The sheet of paper in his left, the charcoal in his right, he tried to become one with what was there. The tart mist of black tea, voluminous yet with bright Hesperidian highs flickered in fine threads over the cups. Soon fresh, delicately herbaceous, almost hay-like scents of green tea blazed through the parlor, moistening the brown mosses on the wooden benches, before from the stone floor the warm spicy smoke of lapsang souchong drifted into Yuen's charcoal, which soon in his hand now began to draw contours and edges, coolly enriching the warmth.
Then, as Yuen began to close his eyes, he thought he smelled the earth from outside, the scent of the ground after the rain, surrendering to the big picture, allowing itself to sweeten the tea in the parlor. Then Yuen understood the teacher's words and became part of the Tàn Chá in the teahouse.
**
Dawn Spencer Hurwitz, of North Boulder, Colorado, moves her fragrances in the fluid borderlands between perfumes, bespoke, aromatherapy, and collaborations with artists. With Tea and Charcoal, she impressively manages to present the individual tea notes separately at first before bringing them together into a warm, slightly smoky overall composition. For me, the most authentic tea scent to date, standing on an earthy ground through oakmoss, patchouly and mitti attar, given cool edges by charcoal and a hint of birch tar. Unfortunately, the tea ceremony lingers only good four hours rather quietly on the skin.
(With thanks to Bloodxclat)
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Carboytony
