The Romance of Coffee
"Ah! How sweet coffee tastes! Lovelier than a thousand kisses, sweeter far than muscatel wine!"
~ Johan Sebastían Bach
I am sitting at a cafe drinking my favourite cup of espresso and browsing happily away on my laptop when a question pops in my head ...why not make a design based on this delicious cuppa? While I wait for my html editor to come up on screen, I take a small sip from my cup. The coffee is aromatic, frothy, and delicious - with a hint of vanilla. My spirits lift at once, and I suddenly feel inspired.
I lean forward and start to type. In my haste, I accidentally knock over the fragile porcelain cup. The rich liquid spreads slowly on the table as the crisp white linen hungrily soaks up what was once my espresso... Needless to say, the linen is no longer crisp, and it is no longer spotless.
A harried waitress hurries to my side. With barely concealed annoyance, she asks me to move. Grudgingly, I consent to her request and gather my belongings. The laptop, several scattered pens and papers, and my cell phone find themselves a new home with a decent view of the busy street.
I pull up a chair, its back to the passerby walking to-and-fro, immersed in their own world as I am in mine. I do not want any distractions while I work, and the young man with the loud pink shirt standing at the corner is certainly one.
It is not his choice of attire that distracts me. Nor is it his beautiful blonde hair gathered in a mass of thick braids that hangs past his shoulders. Rather, it is his guitar. It is new and shiny. The mother-of-pearl details on its front shimmers, and reflects the beautiful morning sunshine. I am enamoured and cannot take my eyes away.
His fingers glide gently over the strings, and over the hum of the people around me, I like to hear the soft beginnings of a sad song. I shake my head to clear it, and sit down. I do not have the time to listen to another soul unburdening itself. I, too, have worries of my own.
The waitress walks toward me, her silver tray supporting a fresh cup of the cafe's best blend as if it was a throne. I gratefully smile at her and hand her several notes. Her demeanor changes instantly when as she deduces the amount I have given her. A grin spreads on her face, and she mumbles a thank you before stashing the money in her cream apron. Satisfied, she turns away, and I turn my attention back to my task.
As cliche as it may be, one question does indeed open the front, back, and side door to a dozen more. What shall I call this design? What colours should I use? What type of layout will best suit the theme? What is the theme? I sigh. I can see that this will take much of my precious time. I drink from the cup, and close my eyes in appreciation. Pure heaven! I put it at a safe distance from my clumsy self and begin my work...