My chawans are the spirits of the mountains, the ripples in the waters.
Every time I make a chawan I am reminded of the majesty of the mountains and the elegance of the flowing ridges. Thus the verge of the mouth extends like a mountain range and the body falls like ripples of a creak. At times like a rock wall, at times like a forest, the chawan brimms with images of the mountain, as if the spirit of the mountains have entered my own spiritual world.
As I sip tea with the bowl in my hand, I see tea trees growing on the mountains surrounded by wisps of clouds. The essence of tea is released as the leaves are steeped in the spring water. I sip the tea and let it remain in my mouth as the taste of the mountains linger on my palate and the ripples flow through me. My chawans are the best companion to the mountain, water, and tea.