Just a cup of tea

A teacup from Anthropologie.

I've been painting a lot of furniture lately. That means dragging bulky pieces into our squirty elevator, shimmying through the laundry room and setting up in our somewhat ghetto-but-hey-it's-an-outdoor-space, courtyard. This past weekend I had 2 pieces of Street Merch, 2 Salvation Army side tables and 2 lamps to paint. So I went through the above process and got situated outside. It was freezing. Really freezing. So of course, I dressed the part and wore sweatpants over running pants, with Uggs, multiple layers of fleece zip ups, ear muffs and mittens. Pretty classy if you ask me.

Anyways, Zoran, one of the Super's at our building, was working in the laundry room and kept coming to check on me. He even let me borrow a few tools. After a couple of hours spent sanding and priming, he sticks his head out the door and says,

"You like hot tea?", in his Serbian accent.

"Hu? What? Well, yea!", I say a little taken off guard.

"Black or Earl Gray?", he asks.

"Uh Earl Gray!", I say with chattering teeth.

Minutes later, Zoran sticks his head into my workshop/courtyard, and nods towards the porcelain tea cup and saucer he's holding. My heart melts a little bit.

I follow him back into the laundry room where I see two tea cups and saucers sitting on the table where people fold clothes. It may have been the most precious thing I've ever seen.

Zoran and I sit and drink our tea and talk about art. It was such a moment.

Challenge of the day: To be still. And to make room for others. It's just a cup of tea.