About the pleasure of watching people doing ‘hand work’, the eye contact of human and machine, and the uncertainty.


Observational Writing:

Saturday’s Queen Victoria Market is always bustling, lively and crowded. A small cafe is located at the corner of the dairy hall, the smell of coffee beans played on the breeze, attracting me to walk towards it. However, our urgent affair was to buy some food for lunch, so I carefully remembered its location and returned back after shopping.

The decoration of this shop uses the dominant tone of wood and pure white, which looks succinct and reveals the professional impression. We ordered two cups of filter coffee and quickly walked to another side of the bar to watch the barista’s experienced ‘performance’. There were three sets of pour over coffee equipment placing on the bar table, and numbers of paper cups ranked neatly aside. The ground coffee fell from the machine to a small metal cup, it was weighing on the electronic scale, then putting on the wet filter paper. The barista held a steal kettle, drizzling hot water circularly over the powder to extract the coffee from the beans. Golden water droplets slowly fell down, emitting heats that misted up the glass jug. The series of operations were so meticulous and satisfying.

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