Reflections on Tea and Photography

black and white photo of cast iron tea kettle in the background with a stem coming out and clay teapot in foreground

Cultivating the Practice

I've been thinking a lot lately about how the practices of tea and photography enrich my life.

Not only that, they seem to shape it.

On the surface, they fundamentally alter the way I see, inhabit, and interact with the world.

But both go much deeper than that –

They get me to deeper spaces of understanding, and in ways, bring me closer to what it means to be human.

In some ways, they're both somewhat spiritual to me –

In the ways that they teach, move, and shape.

I've written about Tea and Photography before, but I wanted to expand on some thoughts that have been surfacing for me lately–

Specifically Ideas around the cultivation of these practices – individually, and how they relate to each other.

black and white photo lit incense stick with smoke blowing

Both tea and photography are acts that require some training.

That is to say, they require time, commitment, care, and learning.

Parts of these practices eventually become second nature –

Like knowing how to use a camera or a teapot.

But the essence – the thing that makes tea or photography special that comes from the cultivation of the practice and the self.

black and white photo of clay teapot with no lid, mostly in shadow

And that's what I've been thinking about a lot these days...

In some ways, at least in my own life, these two practices seem to complement each other.

The ways they both focus, teach and bring things to the surface makes so much click for me.

But they also each offer things that the other doesn't.

black and white photo of hot water being poured from an iron tea kettle into clay teapot, bright light coming from behind

Tea is such a sensory experience – on multiple fronts – taste, sound, aroma, body feeling.

Photography is primarily a visual and thoughtful response.

They operate from similar spaces, but in different ways.

Moving the mind and self towards something more.

black and white photo of puer tea cake with iron kettle in the background

But what does it mean to cultivate a practice?

When and how does that occur?

What does it change, or why?

black and white photo of clay teapot next to small teacups full to the top with tea

At times, like with any practice, stagnation occurs.

Something doesn't connect, repetition happens, communication dissolves.

The practice seems like it's failed. Like it's not doing the thing it once did.

When this happens to me photographically, one of the easiest things I can do is open my eyes and see.

I open books, stimulate my mind visually, become inspired.

But that's not the only way the cultivation occurs, or even why.

I spend a lot of time reading too – broadening and connecting thoughts I have on something I'm visually interested in.

The cultivation of the photographic practice seems to occur in some unlikely places –

That is, often outside of the visual.

It happens in those little spaces of connection, thoughts, and the things that make life more clear.

I've gone through many ups and downs within my tea practice over the last 8 years.

From extreme excitement around finding and experiencing tea, to working at a high-end Chinese teahouse where I trained my palette, to losing the enjoyment of sitting for tea completely at times.

But it's all been cultivation of the practice, and self.

These experiences cultivated my skillset, as well as my understanding of self and my interaction with the world.

Which makes the simple act of drinking tea or taking a photograph that much more meaningful.

Within the last 6 months, I've been feeling largely disconnected from my tea practice.

Partly it was life and general busyness, but mainly, it was a lack of focus.

I decided it was time to deliberately cultivate, challenge, and expand my tea practice into something closer to what I've been searching for and wanting.

After sitting for tea with some friends whose practices are quite intentional, skilled, and aesthetically pleasing, I realize I had been resisting this form of self-cultivation for so long –

I had spent so much time learning about tea – how it tastes, what makes a tea good or bad, how to brew it – that I forgot how to sit with and enjoy it.

I decided to focus on my presentation, my brewing skills, and to be more intentional with my overall practice.

black and white photo of small teacups full of tea in a triangle arrangement

I got a beautiful simple teapot, some antique cups, and a Japanese tetsubin (and iron tea kettle for boiling water), and had my mom make me some beautiful cloth tea mats to place my wares upon –

All tools that I felt I was ready for and realized would help me connect more deeply with my practice again.

I'm now feeling so much more in tune with the tea I'm drinking.

blurry black and white photo of clay teapot, teacups, and puer tea cake

This focused, aesthetically elevated mode of drinking tea has allowed me to align more spiritually and skillfully with the tea I'm drinking.

And I bring this understanding, alignment, intentionally, and mindfulness into other parts of my life – including my photographic practice.

My tea practice and photographic practices learn so much from each other –

they shape so much of the world around me – from my social life, what I learn, to how I connect, grow, love, and create.

black and white photo of incense stick, mostly burnt down, with clay tea pot in the foreground

And that's why something special seems to happen when I mix them together.

But the most beautiful thing I've learned from these practices thus far is that the cultivation never stops...

It's an ever-changing, meandering process that shapes and continually teaches.

And this is exactly why these practices are such large parts of my life, and why I'm grateful to have them both.


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