Sometimes I think maybe I should drop the number of coffees a day. Being hooked on it to a point that I feel like I’m going to dislocate my jaw with yawning in the morning before my first cup is a warning sign I guess. There’s so much I’m trying to drop and set free from. Sweets, occasional cigarette, wasting time on Netflix, night raid in the kitchen, but coffee will not be one of these.
We all start our day somehow. Wake up and curse the workday or feel relieved because it’s your day off. Fire up the pan for fried bacon and eggs, devour a bucket of porridge, like I do. Munch through a bowl of salad or fruit, or classic sandwich with peanut butter and jam. Enjoy a cup of tea or coffee and a cigarette, meditate or sit on a porcelain throne and drop it down. Work out or just scroll mindlessly on a phone. Some of these are definitely better than others, but that’s who we are. Not all needs to make sense and be healthy.
We all know how childish it is when we feel upset all day just because the morning started wrong. I should slap myself for every time I’ve been bitchy all day just because I woke up later than I wanted to. Who’s fault it is? My own. Just because I wasted time on Netflix till late night, now I am cranky till noon at least. Stupidity 2.0.
Savior in a roast..
My typical sluggish, half-asleep state needs to be resolved. Feeling like an extra in Walking Dead, my facial expression spot on zombie standards, the only thing missing is blood and decaying skin. From the moment I stand up from bed I know I just need to drink my usual pint of water and then coffee time! And nothing tops it when my better half brews one for us. Right up to my high standards of a fussy coffee drinker. Pure joy from the first sip. A journey of my brain finally starting up slowly like 15 years old computer with Windows downloaded illegally, missing all updates since it’s day one, filled with junk, cookies, and all the processes from the day before popping up already. With the last drop of coffee swallowed, the resurrection is completed! I see in 4K Ultra-HD, not some shabby 360p, with constant buffering and blurry images. I will handle this day! …Well, until 2 pm the latest, when the fuel from breakfast burns out and lunch just sat on my stomach and I need another dose of caffeine.
And that is how this thought came to life. Sometimes I really can only be as strong as my coffee in the morning. Being a slave to this drink. Like an obsessive, clingy teenage boyfriend who can’t cope with being away from his new hot girl which will eventually turn out to be a manipulative double face. But it’s too late now, he's deep in this emotional swamp, getting out this will be a rollercoaster.. or house of horrors.
A few years back I got a Christmas present from my wife, Lucia. She got me a stove espresso maker. I’ve entered another realm, I’ve reached the third base or like a teenage boy who discovered touching himself. I had to laugh at myself a few times when I went to bed at night. I was already thinking of grinding the fresh beans and looking at that coffee slowly filling up the tank of espresso maker. Full-on pathetic weirdo, I know.
The artwork "Sometimes I am only a strong as my coffee".
The latest coffee-related piece I’ve done is the one above. An idea I had in my head and in sketches for a year. And finally, I took my time to get it done. From rough composition I wanted to achieve through figuring out the color scheme pretty much on the go, I finalized it to my satisfaction. It could be better, but as Dan Peña says “perfection is paralysis”, I accept my mistakes and learn from them.
The chap sitting calmly pouring his first cup from his shiny brew maker, clumsy on this warm summer morning he let a drop go. Welcoming this roasted aroma and warmth reaching his senses. Through the nose it feels like it’s engulfing his whole mind, opening a vast space of blending colors, emerging thoughts yet still so out of reach somewhere in the ether. Like a muse just looking at him, waiting for the right moment to whisper in his ear. Golden birds chirping and flying around. This little flock of unstoppable ideas, thoughts, and inspirations needs to find their space and order, learn to speak one by one. If he wants to get anything done right, these wee rascals need to be taken care of one after another. Like their mummy can feed only one at a time, he has to learn how to listen to a single song of theirs to understand and feel what is its message. A little mischievous cat always there at the back of his head distracting him, luring him into its little playful world. “Let’s leave this all and lay in the sun, roll in the grass, chase butterflies, climb the trees and explore”. It is not easy for him to stay in line. No matter how much he loves kitten’s life of joy, he knows there are things more important today. Little notebook and pen lying right on the edge of a table again. Soon to fall and get lost if he doesn’t focus on it and stay in line with his duties, plans, and visions. Nothing will grow from a dreamer's head, only from a worker's hands. While the chaps head may hold a house full of memories, filled with nostalgia sometimes weighing him down keeping him in, he knows that the new days stand in front of him. The focus goes down on the ground where the strong foundations are placed for a solid, real house to be built which will call for constant nourishment, honest hard work that gives its fruits, but mainly, a purpose we all need.