Tea Rooms

This tea room has an ambiguous shape-

A sort of curve following a partially excavated hill behind the structure. It has two stories, split between a lofted section with painted glass windows with orange and blue glass, and a lower section with smoothed white flagstone tiling. Connecting the two spaces is a rounded gentle ramp that follows the hill’s curvature.

On the bottom floor are a number of items: a tea kettle, an oven, a sink, and a pantry, with a countertop space to make use of it all. There’s a cart as well, to move a finished pot of tea and some light accompaniments up to the second space. Its rear wall is occupied by a bookcase stretching the length of the room.

On the top floor is a pair of bean bag chairs and something more akin to a bean bag sofa opposite them, with Persian rugs placed between them on the light wooden flooring. Some ceramic coasters sit beside those seats in various muted pastels, and between the seats is a table, one with very short legs.

The lighting for the room– when natural light through the front windows is insufficient– comes from indirect halogen bulbs, providing a warm light while not burning light as incandescents would provide.

For brisk days there’s a space heater on the upper floor, dutiful guarded away from any flammables, and some thick lap blankets stowed in a wall cubby ready to keep the winter’s chill in firm check.

A row of windows on the front of the structure facing away from the hill has flaps on the outside to seal away stormy weather or unwelcome light on the days when– even dimmed through shutters– the light might prove searing to some occupants in need of complete darkness.

The Lunar Tea Room

A concrete floor, a concrete ceiling. No natural light. Illuminated by a bare pure white LED bulb. A tap in the side of the wall from which to get boiling water, a floor drain, and a few mugs and tea bags. The curvature of the ceiling requires everyone to be hunched or on their side to not bang their heads into it. No matter how many people enter, it stays at the same claustrophobic volume per occupant. The room is painted vantablack. Any surface or object not in full illumination is pitch black, as if it doesn’t exist- Anything not in full illumination has to be found by touch. This includes the walls. The temperature is boiling in the room, but every surface is kept uncomfortably cold to the touch with chilled water flowing through it. A mixture of electrical hum, fans whirring, and scratching noises is a constant presence.

A space with a white seemless floor, with a surrounding dome built out of hexagons that all view outward into views of different natural spaces, all at the same time of day. A table with a marble countertop rests in the middle, with a few wicker chairs with firm pastel cushions surrounding it. The exact dimensions of the table and the number of chairs are blurry when in the corners of the mind or vision, solidifying when looked at and focused on, always well-matching the number of guests at the table.

What cups and teas are provided vary depending on the occasion and the guests involved.

A serious diplomatic dispute might demand plain cups and a strong bitter tea, whereas a celebratory meeting might be better suited by a spiced black tea with milk in more ornate cups. Visitors with less delicate mannerisms, or meetings that are expected to last longer, might call for the thicker ceramic mugs, which can better withstand indelicate handling and hold heat for longer.

A room filled with red and orange tones, a couch, and several blankets and pillows adorning it. Dim lighting. Ornate flowing patterns on each wall, formed in cast brass sheeting, illuminated by a flickering controlled flame in a lantern hanging from the ceiling. No outside noises- a sturdy door, barred closed with a heavy board. A place for rest, for respite from a world that got sick and never fully recovered. A teapot sits in the middle, a dark iron metallic teapot with dimples all over it, brewing a bitter tea. Some simple cups, without handles, accompany it.