(An editorial-ish edit and exercise for one of my most beloved item, my Keep Cup mug which has been my trusty companion since about 10 years now, but still is as new as I bought it yesterday!)
I can’t quite recall *exactly* when I became a serious coffee drinker, but I think it must have happened almost at the same time when I became interested in people-watching. Perhaps 18-ish years ago, when a brand new drip coffee maker entered my kitchen shelf and my life, making me wave goodbye to the black and too-bitter-for-my-taste liquid from the moka coffee pot, welcoming me into an exotic, and warmer and charmer, world.
There’s a strangely mysterious connection between observing people and (while) sipping my coffee, a fascinating liaison which I cannot explain no matter how hard I try. I guess it has very much to do with my enthusiasm towards street photography, my penchant for procrastination and the eye training I’m committed to every time lockdown measures get loosen up a tiny bit and allow me to leave the house and get some outdoor-sy fresh air.
In fact I love waiting for the exact, perfect moment when I can bring my Keep Cup near my lips and enjoy my warm coffee-flavored treat. I acknowledge that as a gesture as solemn, thought-over and important as when I click the shutter button on my camera. Ebb and flow between paying attention and waiting, between getting ready and never loose concentration.
Sometimes I convince myself that drinking coffee plus observing mundane activities such as everyday gestures are secretly responding to a hidden law which pushes me into a sort of “took-for-granted” territory, an unknown promised land you can enter only if you learn to look harder and become aware of the everyday beautiful simplicity around us all.