Welcome to my teahouse!

Take a seat, make yourself comfortable-- service will take some time as we adjust the place. Until then, help yourself to some tea!

So, I've recently been falling deeper and deeper in love with tea, specifically brewed gongfu style, helplessly drowning myself in a camellia sinensis' syrup, several shades of autumn deep.

In these explorations, among what I have tried in gongfu brewing, my favourite teas (from most favourite to least favourite) are as follows

I think what I like most in tea is the strength of the cha qi, or tea feeling, that it brings me. I've found myself particularly sensitive to this, perhaps a consequence of a psychoactive headspace. Regarding taste, I think my preferences are for teas which possess both a fruity sweetness, and a heavy earthiness. Tieguanyin is especially good at providing this, and thus why I'm so inclined to it.

My ambitions for tea generally are to try the ten teas of China, possess erudition in tea literature, and possibly write my own tea treatise. Wish me luck!

July 20, 2021 - Bai Duman

Prepared this sometime after I woke up. Drunk on my bed, rather than my low table. My anxiousness has lowered, and made me less afraid of being seen, so I have my blinds have been open, and I can see outside-- it's just beginning to rain.

I feel really nice and safe inside, and lean over to look at this large stone buddha in our backyard, who now reminds me of a teapet as it gets kind of wet. Suddenly, my tea grows very strong in aftertaste, astringent. It's aftertaste is so nice, I want it to last forever-- oh, it stopped raining... I decide to listen to pingsha luoyan, I think the cha qi is catching up to me? Everything is very ethereal, warm... people are drag racing right now, maybe I should watch someday.

You could listen to renditions of Pingsha Luoyan for eternity, well, maybe not that long, but it would feel like it. I'd love to learn this song on guqin, or guitar. Guqin's are really expensive, y'know?

Okay, I think I understand white tea, now. It's not just a flavour like honey, it's really complex and full, you only need give it time to shine. It's like milk and honey, but also like flowers and pretty waltzes, it's so shiny! aaaaaaaa

melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt melt

I understand Emperor Huizong rn, I think I'm like, a scion of Great Song, actual imperial princess vibes. I should listen to the Li Qingzhao piece, but it's so very sad, Yuemanxilou, I love it. It's my favourite piece for moongazing... Sometimes, all you need is a mild, welcoming tea.

Jiukang is fucking cool

I moved everything down to my low table and reheated my water, the sky is such a beautiful shade of lilac-lavender, with orange hints at the bottom, that express themselves so lovely in the clouds. I'd love to learn about cloudspotting. I can see the moon from here, with the rabbit thrown on it and everything. I wish I could see the stars like this, it'd be so nice

Clouds roll over, I love how the moon glows from underneath, a halo of light emenating from underneath that only the clouds can illuminate, it's so luminous, and there are so many thin layers of cloud that only the moon can show you as it's halo shines on them. I can taste the water a lot more, now, so I go to compare the taste of plain water to my tea-- the tea can probably last a couple more steepings. Birds are flying over to retire for the day-- I hope they found some tasty berries to munch on. It's 5:52 PM, I think the stars might start appearing soon, but it seems like the clouds will cover the sky for a while, so I might not be able to stargaze tonight.

the tea has more or less run it's course. you cant seen the moon underneath the clouds save for a feint glow. i turn on the lights to inspect the colour of the tea water, and admire my celadon gaiwan and cups. My tummy is starting to hurt, so I pour the rest out for my tea pet, a broken small teapot shaped like a pig. I turn the light off and look outside again, the clouds have passed on, and the first stars are appearing, so maybe I can stargaze later tonight after all. Returning my computer to my bed, I'm gonna go talk to some people and listen to music, maybe.

July 21, 2021 - Da Hong Pao

Oh, wow, I'm kind of intimidated... this is my second time trying this, and it's oh so rich! I pour the rinse water, and sip the rinse like I usually do (Am I weird for doing that?), then I give it to my tea pet and prepare. Oh gosh, the huigan is so very detailed!

Actually drinking this, though, I don't know how to describe it? I'm getting shivers and shakes, I need some music to go with it, but can't think of anything, it's so intoxicating, I wish I had a sommelier for this... soltero is open in another tab, communist love song, so I put that on. It's really changing how this tea feels, a large part of the tea is how it feels in my throat and chest, I think, that's where it's so very strong, just as it is astringent in my mouth, a great flooding redness, it feels like a robe the way it feels like much more than just something that happens in my mouth, running deep and thick and warm, it sings with the music, fading into new colours as time moves

I guess the best way to describe it is that it sinks into you. Everything is sinking, sinking, sinking. I put on Starry Re's Romantic Era Playlist and just sort of let that run. I wouldn't say it's well tailored for this-- maybe I should change it? I had an idea as to what, but forgot, brain foggy. Second steeping is a lot more detailed in colour, mm, I feel like black metal, kinda. Yeah, I'll put on end cycle futility, that sounds cool.

Da Hong Pao is the black metal of tea.

I'm stroking the water with my tongue, it's very soft, it's like petting a cat.

Third steeping time! I need to find more ways of conserving heat, it's upsetting how it cools too quickly. I poured my gaiwan into my cup and it splashed places, agh, I'm silly. I love how this tastes, though, it's really wonderful, the sweetness is starting to come out of the earthiness, now, and it's so wonderful! Same as with the lid smell-- I keep forgetting to remove the lid, oops

I decide to move everything to where I can see outside for the fourth steeping. I stay on my bed, though. It's really gloomy out, but I find it fitting with the music. An airplane passes, blinking red. It's become very floral and rich, crisp, kind of. The mix of astringency and soft water is weird. Slow guitar strums, the sound of running water, and a gloomy grey outside, only punctured by the light coming from the houses of our neighbours. It's a lot brighter and more vivid than the picture I took, I wish I had a better camera for days like these. It's kind of hard to inspect the colour of the tea under these circumstances

I love how gaiwans handle so much. Fifth steeping! You can see the city lights begin to glow in the distance, they paint the clouds a sickly brownish yellow, expanding outwards. I hate this colour, especially when I want to stargaze, it's like a reminder of why the sky isn't as vivid as I want it to be.

At this point, I don't have much to write... I'm kinda just here enjoying the tea, scenery, and music. I like sweetness. Sweetness is nice, it's good, it's a Good Flavour.

I can't tell I feel like I'm hallucinating some kind of spirit in the distance, or maybe that's just a cloud formation, though I wouldn't put it past myself to hallucinate something like that, so I dunno. I wish I had someone around to check if I'm going insane. The sky is a nice shade of navy-grey, very complex and detailed, if the colours were based on a red palatte, it might feel like da hong pao, kinda. I'll take a break to get some more water, so I put the lid back on, pause my music, and I'll do that I guess.

Leaving my room, it felt like entering another dimension or something, as a flood of colour returned that I didn't have in my dimly lit room. Everything takes on a pale grey in the evening, and also when you dissociate really hard. Maybe I'll write a trip report when I do DXM? I wonder how similar it is, mm.

I love my teddy bear "Baby Bear" I love having tea parties with him he's such great company :333333

It's too dark to see the buddha. My kettle beeps twice, so it's time for water I guess. I set my bear down, renew my music, aaaa, it's hard to type I'm all shaky! can't count easily, either, 45 second steep this time

Yeah, reheating the water really got more out of the tea than using the same water that progressively cooled down. Sweetness to earthiness ratio has tipped towards sweetness, it's also a lot more complex now. Maybe I should bring the kettle with me or pour my water into a tetsubin? If that's what they're for? That's the impression I get. In my chest there is a robe, da hong pao :3333

I should write a rap song called "I'm Lu Yu Bitch"

I definitely agree that the third and fourth steeping have the best taste. It's beginning to plateau out, diminishing returns, and I don't really wanna drink tea as much more, but I couuuuuuuuuuuld keep going, if I wanted to. I'll stop after this steeping, it's like the 5th or 6th I don't remember. Song Because I Can't Stand Up is great, I love it. Dregs of water at the bottom with all the complexity are also delicious. I love it. I love how there's so much in the world to love, tea, water, clouds, music, plants, wood, walls, colours, scents tastes, food.

After that, Melody was enlightened.

2021-07-21 Da Hong Pao Epilogue

Descending from my bed to put the kettle back, I noticed moonlight spilling into my room. It was really beautiful on the evening sky. I put my tea set where the moonlight is, and now my ru kiln celadon is all moonlit, it's so pretty. I'm gonna go listen to Yuemanxilou tea drunk, now.

it's kinda hard to write consistently blegh

raw pu'erh - 27 of July, 2021

listening to johnny hobo with my cat-- the past couple days I drank to guqin, but not today! today is a day for song and sway, chaindrinking through the gaps in my teeth, or something silly like that!

something floral and round and warm and earthy and fruity sweet like this I really needed, I think? it's nice and cuddly, like a ray of sunshine and a cloud passing over, giving room for the peachy sweetness to come

May the only occupation we have be not having a job! May the only cocktails that we make be molotov!

I've been eating a lot in conjunction with the past couple sessions, things like red bean buns. It feels kinda LARPy, but hey, I'm not complaining, tea goes well with food. I had dumplings beforehand, which was fun. I guess one worry I have though, is that I'm not appreciating the tea as much, as it is, for itself, and "corrupting" it in a way by pairing things like oolong with sugary red bean fillings. Iunno, there'll be plenty of chances to appreciate this in all sorts of contexts and times, so maybe I shouldn't worry so much.

Speaking of contexts, maybe I should try prepare tea out in the great grasslands of where I live, so picturesque and ever expanding outwards! It's the focus of a lot of heidelberg impressionism, I'm really fond of it.

I remember this one picture Global Tea Hut used to accompany their translation of the Tea Classic by Lu Yu, of some guy with his kettle and bowl, drinking on a rock with a view of the mountains and rivers, and how I knew how this felt back when I would do something similar in the grasslands outside class when I was last in education.

this is so sweet in aftertaste aaaa!!!

I think strongest of all, though, is the cha qi. I feel like a slowly spinning pool of caramel inside, like a spoon is stirring up this buttery burnt sugar substance inside, like my heart is made of dulce de leche and is slowly melting-- the astringency freezes in place a moment in time, in taste, that feels as if eternity, dragging seconds into minutes, minutes into hours, thoughts are spinning, spinning, spinning, tumbling from my fingers onto the screen. I lean in as more words surface from the sea, and pull back as the fog grows in depth to take another sip-- breathe out through my nose, feel the air resurface in my mouth, the scent run through my veins, the colours dance in a maze of words, words, words, spinning spinning spinning

I pour more water, and wait for it to steep. Time slows with each number I count. Ten seconds, iterating another three or five with every steeping, like counting sheep, I start to dream, like a dream, I wake back up, pour, and sip

Pu'erh is like growing a tree, the earthiness overwhelming your mouth, the woodiness as it runs to the back of your throat, and the fruit that sprout at the end.

you can tell where the music ends because left alone with my thoughts I become far more incoherent and my thoughts begin spiralling. I sort of forgot to put something on after, maybe some kundimans would be nice-- oh, I'm out of water... I guess I'll stop, here.

good tea

July 29, 2021 - Tieguanyin

Tieguanyin is one of my absolute favourite teas, my personal ambrosia, it coats you all deep and thick and I love every second of it! My other cup will create a stacked infusion, my first time trying something like this, and I'll be listening to Mitzutani for the session, an artist quite new to me.

I think one of my favourite parts of tieguanyin is how even the air in your mouth after the liquid disappears is so rich and deep in flavour, how when I turn my tounge, I can taste a tapestry, cool and sweet, accompanied by a rich oily feeling that runs throughout everything so very lovely and warm. Mitzutani's gentle singing is so serene, I think quite inverse to how the tea progresses as the flavour profile grows in detail but dullness with each steeping-- if all the tracks were reversed, that would help. I would prefer something big and intense to start that progressively grows sweet and gentle, so maybe a change of album is in order? I don't know... this tea is lovely, by the way! I love tieguanyin a bunch

I opt to put on the Moldau, take a long sip, and smell the cup. It's sensory bliss. Two more cups disappear, and my server is already empty, so quickly. I love this tea, it's so floral and dreamy!

I take a sip of the stacked infusion out of curiousity, and the cha qi, it's almost psychdelic-- my room feels a lot more vivid, my vision feels a lot more swirly I suddenly notice the big empty space by my door a big patch of white was it always this empty? the song picks up again the river flows deeply it flows openly wonderfully wonderfully lovely my hands are shakng kind of and theres like visual flickers and little spirits that dance with the tea steam things dance where im not looking the huigan fire fills me and runs through my veins i melt into the sweetness

hills of manchuria, now. i like how the steepings alternated from sweet to earthy to really sweet again, i love how this tea is, it's my favourite.

sort of like how music can feel more real than everything else with a good set of headphones and the right frame of mind going in, the tea right now feels more real than my other senses. time is sort of distorted as the tea drags everything out, what I see and touch and hear feels kind of detatched compared to something far more vivid, far more real feeling, the taste and scent of the tea.

I take a sip of the stacked infusion, the taste is very layered, it's like going through the past session all in one moment-- it's delicate, fragile, with many layers wrapping over one another, dancing and talking

September 08 and 09, 2021 - Anji Bai Cha

My ru kiln gaiwan broke, compelling me to get another. I find the broken pieces very beautiful, but my family does not, so fragments of a beautiful moonlight color now sit on my window, right besides a neglected mini calligraphy kit, one of my favourite tea cups, a $2 coin, a butter knife, and on the far side, a black marker I use for practicing my Gothic handwriting.

Yesteryday, I recieved my new gaiwan, accompanied with a cardboard casing of anji bai cha, Emperor Huizong's favourite tea of which he described as akin to white jade, and Da Hong Pao, which has been permanently bound into my thoughts as associated with black metal, an association I cannot change due to the nature of the tea as something I could only taste twice, but no longer! I might write another tea journal record of how I change it, but that is for when I next prepare da hong pao. I want to sit on my anji bai cha.

And sitting, I am. I've finished drinking, and am now writing in retrospect, rather than as the tea session progresses in the streams of consciousness these things have previously taken. It's got a gentle sweetness and richness to it, something very familiar. I would best describe it as akin to the white chocolate my father used to share with me when I was a child, but also, I'm slightly worried that this account is blurred by a Mei Leaf Video I saw comparing good matcha from China and Japan respectively, where he described one of the matchas as akin to white chocolate. I seem to possess a kind of comparative alexaesthesia, unable to compare two senses very well when brought up in memory. Where some peopple might be able to compare a scent to blueberry or caramel or toffee, I always take a scent as itself and nothing more, and I always worry that when I describe scents and tastes, I'm drawing from how others describe tea, rather than developing my own ability to describe something as it is to me

But, I think this account of it as akin to white chocolate, it's very real, even if I'm drawing on the accounts of others. White chocolate is a very nostalgic taste to me, like the taste of pastillas de leches, the sound of tagalog, and the smell of the ocean.

In other ways, it tastes kind of warm, melty. My first session on the 8th, the second wednesday of September, I was blessed with particularly good water, cloudlike, fluffy, very smooth and whole, but an unnecessary restraint regarding how much tea I put into my gaiwan, resulting in a less present taste. Today, I put more tea in the gaiwan, substantially more. I think it emphasized the taste of green tea in general? I don't know, I'm not very good at describing sensations, especially in retrospect. When I say something is like caramel, it is more regarding the phonoaesthetics of the word, or maybe the "essence" the term caramel evokes, and not literally caramel. I have this mental imagery of a coppery colour that is very smooth and pleasant to look at, rather than the flavour itself.

Ah! I keep going off track! Rambling about how difficult I find it to describe things...
Maybe I'll just be more impressionistic and direct, but oh, I get so alexithymic... I'll try my best, okay?
Who am I talking to?
This is silly it feels so performative, even if this is how my thoughts are conveyed. Well, I mean, I edit things, adjust thoughts as they come-- it *is* performative, but, that's okay, because I still mean everything I say.

I think, by now, it's very hard to describe, especially because the taste has lingered. I'm still finding out how I like to brew it, buuuuut, I know that anji bai cha is something I love. It's a white jade, rich and delicate, but enveloping and sweet. It has a kind of body to it that I struggle to describe, like a pastel green... I'm not sure.

I mean, it's only been two sessions, but I understand Huizong a lot better now, I think.

I'll write again soon, once I know how to temper it's tone and taste, and then, it'll be something that happens then and there, and I'll capture it in clauses, in impresssions and inspirations spontaneous and sudden, and it'll be beautiful and it will do justice to my experience of the tea

September 10, 2021 - Da Hong Pao

I don't really have a properly written tea account, but late into my session, I grew curious about my experience of huigan and typed this somewhere

does your huigan ever take a certain shape
obviously it's more like
detailed than this
it's like a uhhh
it's very fine, but thick
this basic shape but then it sort of forms and extends into very elegant patterns
idk if it's just the fact that im like
schizotypal again or if this is an actual thing people experience
depending on the quality of the tea session, it's always different
the best shapes are the ones that you can feel sink into your soul
because when it like
goes down your throat
the shape is drawn
and follows from the path of the tea
and it's like it's sinking
and you're drowning in the shades of colour
it wraps into my lungs and grants me a breath of fire that warmed the water it possesses and haunts

It's easier to write consistently if I put it down somewhere first, and then add the HTML stuff later. I normally write and then do the tags and stuff first and thats usually exhausting because it breaks the flow of thought. I might be able to write more if I just kind of edit everything a bit later

Saturday, 11th of September, 2021 - Anji Bai Cha

so, I'm typing a little late. I kind of fat-fingered the music and just kind of put on Lust by Rei Harakami which feels lazy and-

I took a sip and it's like, milky, sweet, and it has the same pace as these melodies, almost (what does that mean?)... the timbre and taste are very akin to one another, I mean, I wanna put something else on, admittedly, but things flow together so well, but now I know the timbre to this tea, I can make decisions, of which I will rather predictably listen to some candy claws. Speaking of candy, it's sort of sinking into my mouth, this almost mint floral feeling, but I'm also noting a bitterness, and a great size of body rich and thick

Oh! I should get a cup for stack steeping, so that was what I did and I chose the grasslands cup.

It's a very melodic tea, I think? Whereas oolongs tend to be more harmonic. Whereas in the former, everything comes out in smaller details and moments, rather than being a progression of waves. There are little fragments of oilyness wrapped around my tounge where a rich sweetness comes out not unlike Tieguanyin, but it's different.

I feel like I'm not paying attention enough to that big overwhelming nuttiness and umami in my description, but uh, just know it's there. I kind of value the finish more for how nostalgic it feels, but that isn't to devalue the body of the tea, which is so very rich and cuddly. It's especially warm on the third steep, oh and so very fresh! I change to Two Airships/Exploder Falls from Rei Harakami-- a sort of sereneness is taking over now, almost sedative, potent ever so more through the music.

I feel like a schizosynaesthetic mess as the dream takes hold and so many senses blur into one another, breaking and moving and swirling into a mess of nostalgic sweetnesses and temporal glitches, centuries apart from scholars broken by distortion pads and fuzzy flavours and a great overwhelming umami sort of fills me and I feel a kind of warmth in all of me.

it's kind of like my blood feels filled with warmth, I mean, it is, but, I notice it more now

Last steep, Two Airships finishes. Exploder falls begins, and I pour into my cha hai. My stacked steep awaits besides me, and I pour into my spiraling cup. Sip. I grow infatuated with a leaf an then put it onto my computer screen, feeling awash with colours and tastes and sounds and scents and the warm feeling of my bed and the firm plastic of my computer keyboard. Exploder falls enters it's second act, and my cha hai looks empty, so I take to the expanse of plains and grass, the stacked steep.

It's very warm despite having grown cold somehow. I can taste it all throuhgout my throat and lungs and everywhere. I think the stacked steep sunk into my soul more than any other moment. I'll let the album finish and then maybe put everything away then, but until that time, I feel so serene now.

Not much to write as the album runs it's course. I feel as though I'm about to wake up from a dream when this all ends.

And I wake up.

Monday, 27 Sep 2021, 7AM. Shou Pu'erh

I found myself in a moment of respite from avolition, and started a couple chores, though carried none to completion. I prepared my shou puerh brick and am mulling about the whole Shuishan Yu Guqin catalogue now. As of writing, I am on my second steep, and as it stands, the tea is more a vehicle for this strange feeling that captures me right now.

In placing the cup to my lips, I let it linger, and feel it's firmness. Debris sits at the bottom of the cup, and swirls on an axis, imitating the motions of a snake-- a sudden sweetness hits me, and it occurs that the small amount of liquid, in it's curves and motions, resembles the whole yin yang thing. Very Chinese-Hermit-Core of you, Melody-- but really, it does. I've no other means of describing it.

Third? Fourth steep? I don't really count anymore. One of my favourite parts of this ritual is pouring the water from a height, watching the steam wrap around the waterfall, watch as one submits to gravity and as one defies it. I could easily see myself as an ancient philosopher denying that gravity is real or universal, ehehe.

Flickers of delusion tell me that there is cosmic significance in the spiral motions of the steam, and the way the debris moved in the water. I adore my shou brick for how robust it's red colour is, even if getting the tea leaves can be a hassle, given how dense the brick is.

When I sit, patiently, the rich body of the tea gifts me sweetness. All time inbetween feels eternal, yet strung together by the notes of a guqin, poem put to pluck, strings to welcome sweetness. I pour again, making a mess. I made no effort to aim the cha hai very well and more tea landed on my tea board and splashed onto me than did it land in the tea cup. I think the tone of the tea reminds me a bit of the colour of my hair, which is a very dark brownish reddish colour, that appears black under 90% of circumstances save for when the stars align and one gains the impression of red streaks.

I contemplate a greyness I once saw. I don't know how to describe it here. It deserves it's own page on this site, I think. I tried to feel it's form, but I couldn't capture it. I think I was too distracted by writing, or thinking about my next words. I've been seeing it in more things, lately, little gaps in reality that resemble something like a transcendental white noise, but it's not as vivid as it was, then.


No more tea left.

Tuesday, 12 October 2021, 6 AM

listening to the sophtware slump at 8 to 6, watching sunrise, the last stars bidding their farewells.

the sky is a canvas of colour, the visual snow traces synaesthetic shimmering, electric roars

a thousand tones in a sunrise gradient, a shade of blue for each kind of love, flickering in and out as the light moves

a berry sweetness, a solar warmth, the tea tastes of spring

dont give in 2000 man

slowly i can make out the teaware as the light grows

the sunrise is so beautiful

4:55 PM 16/05/22

I was away from my tea for about a month, whilst staying at my dad's place. Tea subsequently left my diet, besides the very strong tasting oolong tea bags my dad had. I often drank more coffee.

So, I'm sitting on a bit of tea drunkness from pots of Tieguanyin, and with that kind of distance afforded by being away, the tea feels a lot more enchanted again. My tummy feels warm, my head is spinning, I feel kinda buzzy, and I let a block of chocolate melt on my tounge. Chocolate is very special, especially the chocolate you get for Easter (Paska, as it is called in Gothic), and especially the chocolate you have after a nice pot of tea. I'm conscious of the effects of Chocolate relative to oxcytocin, and people often expound the health benefits of just a little bit of chocolate every now and again, but I think that cheapens the magic of it. I think I first learned about the effects of Chocolate when watching that Harry Potter film featuring it as a child, how something so mundane could abate things so terrible, and how despite that particular franchise of films being disenchanted for me, it remains the place in which I grew to see chocolate as something special.

I think this feeling was further compounded by my explorations of Mesoamerican archaeology and history between 2019 and 2020. I think it was in studying Danibeedza, the ancient Kingdom of the Zapotecs that once encompassed all Oaxaca, that I taught to myself a historical imagination and way of concieving of times and places distant from my own, and so in it, Chocolate holds a very special place in this world that it doesn't in my own, but right now, I feel like if only a little bit, those little blocks of candied love come close.

If it wasn't obvious by the styling, the subject matter of this page, the imagery, I'm sort of fixated on China. I started watching Yi Yi when I felt a need to explain myself and why I feel this way.

Compounding chemical effects can make for quite the rush.
Maybe I'm cheapening it by reducing it to chemicals again
I probably am.

I'm losing the words I want to explain myself... I might just do it another time. I just wanna curl up in my bed and feel the warmth of the tea. It was really soft and cuddly.

Who knows, maybe tomorrow?