You’ll remember from my Lockdown post that I mentioned I would be going to quirky coffee shops more and not take small pleasures for granted again. It’s been a slow venture actually finding the time, but an enjoyable adventure. People watching is something special. You get to see the exchange of flowers, overhear encouraging conversations and new ideas, see the old lady in her hip shoes, see little birds hoping for crumbs and just get to be surrounded by a mass of hope and humanity. There’s a special kind of confidence that comes with doing things alone and it’s an empowering feeling. I see a lot of posts about people being overwhelmed with social media these days because they’re fighting the constant pressure to produce content and stay ahead. It even goes so far where a lack of validation on a post steals away from the experience. Fuck that! If it costs you followers because you didn’t post your selfie (remember your inspirational quote) on time or if you don’t get enough likes on your post about being #blessed then so be it. There’s so much more to life and there’s a freedom to just being and it’s even better when you get to make stuff up while eating a pastry.
Café Antics was inspired by a piece I read in a little adventure book. I’m not saying the name because it was actually really shit, but this piece sparked an idea: Pretend you are a character, either from fiction or from your own imagination. What would that character do? How would they approach the world differently from you? Maybe they would try something that you wouldn’t (more daring, more slowly). Wander through various places as this character. How would they approach an art museum? A café?
Naturally, I thought of stories…
The Three Ducks: classic finishes, contemporary art pieces on the walls and in one corner hangs an elegant mirror to make you reflect on life.
There was a lady wearing a fur coat that was as pronounced as the secrets she carried. Having been married 3 times, she was about as happy as you’d expect when someone was left with a fortune. Rather imposing and a close friend to adventure, her latest tryst included a lavish evening in a Paris café with diamonds and champagne. She was meeting a handsome accomplice to discuss trading a rare book on the scandals of French aristocracy. Oh, how spoiled she was…
Garden Bleu: jazz music, plants for days and gurgling fountains – your cares are just breathed out of you.
A café was situated in a maze of meticulously cut hedges. White umbrellas cast shadows over crystal glasses with lemonade and hushed conversations. A pretty woman wearing a blue sundress was frowning behind her open fan, cooling herself against the lazy heat. Her father who sat across from her glanced nervously at his watch. Her brother was late, most likely having overslept from a late night on the town. One birdsong and nervous tick later and he stumbled over to their table. “Sorry I’m late.” He plopped himself down and ordered a gin. “Now, what’s this about Pharaoh’s Tomb?”
Hazelwood Food Market: food, dust and a variety of stalls that inspires you to be the type of person who grows her own vegetables.
There was a market tucked in a valley with stalls of every sort. Flags strewn between trees sighed the wishes of the vendors on the breeze. A fiddler played a lively tune in the corner. A small girl dressed in swaying robes with a coin tucked in her pocket weaved between the noise. Mermaid scales to grant everlasting beauty, squirrel scavenged acorns to produce wealthy orchards, rich silks and spices and the finest leather. All of this was tempting, but the girl felt pulled towards a stall nestled in the back under a vast oak tree. Journals bound in fine materials with pages soft and welcoming. Perfect for writing spells to curse your enemies.
Mugg&Bean: as wholesome as a good coffee.
It was a sunny day and the streets bustled between the Greek columns. Shouts and animal calls carried as far as the salt breeze from the harbor. In the chaos a boy was running. His sandals slapped against the cobblestone path as he heaved up the hill to the monastery. It was his first day helping the High Priest making relics of the old gods.
I realized that this was very similar to Prompt Literature, but on you go, Carol. Judge the plants at the local Boeremark.
KaraOtto Imaginatorium 