fragrant toast. Quickly her eye glances about my room, but only to have the pleasure of noting that all is in order; inconceivable that anything serious should need doing at this hour of the day. She brings the little table within the glow of the hearth, so that I can help myself without changing my easy position. If she speaks, it will only be a pleasant word or two; should she have anything important to say, the moment will be after tea, not before it; this she knows by instinct. Perchance she may just stoop to sweep back a cinder which has fallen since, in my absence, she looked after the fire; it is done quickly and silently. Then, still smiling, she withdraws, and I know that she is going to enjoy her own tea, her own toast, in the warm, comfortable, sweet-smelling kitchen.
Footnote
1 [Certain British spellings have been amended. Ed.]
A Valuable Moment of Life
BY K ATE F INNEGAN
Tea Ceremony with Mr. Kaji Aso
When I was studying fine arts at Tufts University and the School of the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston in the late 1970s, my professor was Mr. Kaji Aso. After I graduated in 1980 I began taking classes at his studio in Boston. Soon I discovered that Mr. Aso held Japanese tea ceremony every Sunday afternoon at the studio and I made a reservation to attend tea.
Kaji Aso Studio is located in a brownstone townhouse near Symphony Hall and, back then, tea ceremony was held in the art gallery. (Later, in 1987, Mr. Aso extended the studio by building a tea house and, in 1997, a tea garden). I had attended exhibitions, concerts, and poetry readings in the delightful gallery and was surprised on the day of tea ceremony to find the space magically transformed into a Japanese setting. An entrance screen shielded the doorway and tatami mats were carefully laid out on the floor. Hanging nearby was an art piece: a calligraphy character in which the black ink flowed on the page, thick to thin, dark to light, each stroke demonstrating flowing direction and movement. Later I would learn this character meant âdanceâ in Japanese. Just below this was an earthen-colored vase in which leaves with the first splashes of autumn colors were arranged.
Mr. Aso was sitting seiza (on his knees) in a steel-blue-colored kimono of fine material and, as always, there was an ambiance of calmness and focused positive energy emanating from him. A group of six people entered and sat across from each other on the tatami mats. There was a subtle scent of incense and an ancient kettle that made a pleasant sound. Mr. Aso placed a lacquer plate in front of him that held a ceramic bowl and other mysterious tea implements.
He bowed and said, âGood afternoon and welcome to tea.â
We all bowed back and said, âGood afternoon.â
In that moment and every moment that followed I was transported from my everyday world to a place of exquisite .
We were perfectly quiet as the tea assistant passed a small plate of sweets around so we could each take one. As we enjoyed the delicate taste, Mr. Aso began to prepare tea. His movements were mesmerizingâflowing and stopping and flowing again. They intertwined with other sounds and sightsâthe steam rising from the kettle, the tap of the bamboo spoon on the ceramic bowl, the scooping and pouring of water, the blur of the whisk followed by the smell of green tea, something akin to spring.
Mr. Aso picked up the tea bowl and turned it carefully: once... twice...a little more. He paused with a slight bow and then placed the tea bowl down. His assistant passed it to the first guest.
I watched as the guest bowed, carefully picked up the bowl, turned it and then took a sip. A satisfied smile came over her face. âDelicious,â she said and she took two more sips. Then she took her napkin and wiped the bowl where her lips had touched and turned it back before setting it down for the next guest.
I was the third guest in line and when the bowl reached me I saw clearly for the first
The Cowboy's Surprise Bride