AUTUMN OH, MERCY – 50 Gms

Every once in a while, writing writes back, singing sings back, paint on the canvas paints back and photographs photograph back. It’s magical -that is, every once in a while. It’s sufficient, even if once in a while – sustaining its own discovery through the veil of creativity, every once in a while. Then it stops. Just like that you stop hearing the music – now, you’re a fish out of water and everything is a copy of a copy of a copy. It happens to the best, the worst and the ones in-between, alike. Nobody knows what to do next – not even the best, but they do try to describe the feeling like Dylan just before he recorded Oh, mercy. He writes in Chronicles: “The intimacy, among a lot of other things, was gone. Whiskey was out of the bottle. For the listeners, it must have been like going through deserted orchards and dead grass. There was a missing person inside of myself and I needed to find him. Now and again, I did try a few times, tried hard to force it. In nature there’s a remedy for everything and that’s where I’d usually go hunting for it. But it was no use. I felt done for, an empty burned-out wreck. Too much static in my head and I couldn’t dump the stuff. Wherever I am, I’m a ’60s troubadour, a folk-rock relic, a wordsmith from bygone days, a fictitious head of state from a place nobody knows. I’m in the bottomless pit of cultural oblivion. You name it. I can’t shake it.”

 Then, in New Orleans he finds it – rather discovers it, again. He captures this feeling of finding it again; of capturing something first and discovering it later: “I was thinking of a series of dreams, Where nothing comes up to the top. Everything stays down where it’s wounded, And comes to a permanent stop. Wasn’t thinking of anything specific – Like in a dream, when someone wakes up and screams. Nothing too very scientific – Just thinking of a series of dreams. Thinking of a series of dreams, Where the time and the tempo fly. And there’s no exit in any direction, ’Cept the one that you can’t see with your eyes. Wasn’t making any great connection, Wasn’t falling for any intricate scheme. Nothing that would pass inspection, Just thinking of a series of dreams…” – Series of Dreams (Oh,mercy)

It is absolutely ‘Dylanesque’ – language will make you lose the feeling; put too much thought and you’re stuck with meaning and rationality; instead, counterintuitively add it to your already perfect stew and it’ll tell you why it’s perfect! Since It’s important to not appreciate it for the meaningful but eventually wrong reasons, we’ll skip a few steps and get to the rhythm and intuition first – we’ll use language to fill in the gaps later: “Brew it in the evening. Drink it – it’s a good tea but try not to put too much thought into it! Leave the leaves, be overnight and go to bed. Wake up, steep it again. Voila, the discovery begins. My, My! You’re back in your childhood tasting the metallic spoon after you’ve licked the honey off it -taste of metal, faint aroma of Varnish, morning and childhood. Oh,mercy!”

Now brew a fresh 4 grams – for a second, first time. Quiet and Visceral – more than mere entertainment for the intellect, this Autumn AV2 Oolong – a series of notes with no intricate schemes, no great connections- just a series of notes. But the intellect must be appeased – can’t have it turning on ourselves: Like we said it’s a series of notes wrapped in Chantilly lace – Thick, Creamy with a Silk like texture. Very Quiet, very Visceral, very Easy. Aroma of Vanilla and Make Up with the delightful autumn fruitiness of Mango, Apricots and fresh jam make the most of Oh, Mercy. The metallic taste with the aroma of Varnish changes to a cool Menthol on particularly wintry days.  There is the mild floral layer – mostly alluding to very-very fragrant make up– to the autumn fruitiness which, like we said, flows like a series of notes, with no intricate schemes, no great connections, ’Cept the one that you can’t see with your eyes.

Take heed little heart, the world is a beautiful and mysterious place. One moment you’re all ‘made and sorted’ and the next you’re looking to get your ‘weird and unknown’ back. How you find your weird and unknown, is what makes the world mysterious and beautiful.