Coffee, Writing, and Lingering Feelings
From Muted Entity Event No.14— Coffee and Writing at Lichen.
Written by
“Everything that matters in writing, happens before you write. Words aren’t something you “craft”—They’re vessels, carrying the messages and emotions that have already taken form.”
Trinh Lu, Vietnamese writer and painter. Translated by Thuy Minh, Vietnamese podcaster, writer and journalist.
I heard these words echoing in my head as I started to write the blog post about Muted Entity event No.14—Coffee and Writing at Lichen [1].
Someone mentioned to me once about the “sacred muted space.” The sacred moments artists had before they started drawing. The moment where their eyes deeply drawn into something, their ears went deaf, time paused, and everything else in the background became blurred and muted. I heard this idea again in the conversation between Trinh Lu and Thuy Minh about writing [2].
My thoughts started to stir.
I thought a lot about this “muted space” and the emotions I felt before I opened the door and welcomed the customers to the Muted Entity.
“Dạo này con có làm gì vui không? [3]
“What's been on your mind recently?”
“How are you feeling today?”
Those are some gentle, kindly asked questions from my family and friends, moments before the event began.
My heart felt warm and fulfilled. My social anxiety slowly faded.
And I felt an unusual urge to communicate and connect.
Day 1: Coffee and Typewriter Poems
It was raining that day. Petrichor—a new word I’ve come to love—describes the earthy scent and pleasant feeling that often accompany the first rainfall after a long dry spell. A perfect word to capture both my excitement for the first M-E event of the year and the mood of that rainy day.
At M-E event No.14, we hosted two writing “workshops”—alongside thoughtfully brewed coffee and tea, crafted by Joseph, M-E barista and co-founder.
At the first writing workshop, we invited Jayshawn Lee, a typewriter poet and friend, who has written more than one million poems for strangers around New York.
Poetry might be one of the least popular or commercially viable literary forms—not to mention typewriter poems and poets. Jayshawn’s works and passion might be one of the rare gems.
I chatted with Jayshawn briefly before the event started.
“Writing has always been an introverted and solitary hobby to me,” I said. “Most of the time, I write alone—usually in silence, with my noise canceling headset—to organize the unspoken thoughts and tangled feelings in my heart.”
He nodded and replied,
“To me writing can also be communal. While I write, people come to me with their stories. I turn them (the stories) into poems. Then, while they tell their stories and read the poems—some laugh and smile, some even cry. It feels like an exchange of energy. And usually, very therapeutic”
I nodded.
Sipped the coffee, I stepped back and observed how Jayshawn and Joseph worked together.
After placing their orders, customers sat down with Jayshawn, sharing their stories and feelings while sipping their drinks. Jayshawn then transformed their stories into poems, written on scented papers stained with coffee—designed and crafted by Shea, one of M-E co-founders and my personal favorite artist.
People read the poems, inhaled the coffee-scented papers, and paused.
Some smiled. Some laughed. Some held the poem closer to their hearts. Some reached for their partners’ hands.
It was beautiful.
We spoke occasionally about writers. We spoke about Ocean Vuong—our mutual favorite poet and author.
I remember Ocean once said in an interview [4],
"Poetry was once so portable. The lyrical poem could be heavily connected to people's memory through rhyme. A poem with message and meaning traveled from people to people, to their memories, without the need of ink and papers. Then, the human body becomes an archive of information, stories, and memories. Poems used to be how people tell and consume stories. We’re moving across how we consume stories. Poems turned into novels, novels turned into films, and films now turned into TV shows. Thus, poetry… is fading."
Yet, from the very first day of M-E Coffee and Writing Workshop, my thoughts began to tell me otherwise.
Memories fade but memories also form through time.
That day, I learned that writing could also be communal and shared.
That day, I learned that what we’re appreciating and celebrating through M-E—the memories we’ve created for ourselves and others—may live in people's memories and reach their hearts.
I’m starting to have hopes.
Day 2: Coffee and Handwriting
The time seems to slow down when I’m with Muted Entity.
I talk, perceive, and listen a little slower. And I breathe and feel things a bit deeper.
On the second day, I brought my pens and pencils I keep in a muslin pouch—a birthday gift from Joseph. I also brought some notecards made from recycled cotton, salvaged from garment industry scraps, along with Shea’s coffee-stained papers. We hosted a creative writing “workshop,” though we didn’t actually “teach” anyone how to write.
We sat down with the customers.
We sipped the drinks together.
We chatted about the drinks. About the mundaneness of our lives. About the objects at Lichen.
We wrote down what was on our minds.
We drew what we saw through our eyes.
Then we kept these notes and memories, somewhere, in a corner of our hearts.
It was beautiful.
The notes we wrote together and the memories we shared.
“I want to hang this on my desk and look at it every day,” A customer said, holding the note I had written to him. He held it close to his left chest. It was just my interpretation of what he had shared with me during our conversation.
A customer also took a video of me writing.
I looked so serene.
I also saw my M-E team, supporting me from behind.
They seemed so sincere.
(Video Courtesy by Maynor)
That day, I saw aspects of others’ personalities and perspectives that I had never noticed before.
That day, I also uncovered a new layer of my personality and perspective—one I had never seen before.
The Lingering Feelings Afterwards
Lingering thoughts and feelings are like the aftertaste of coffee. Sipping my coffee, I struggle to put everything I’m feeling into words. I realize I've spent more than thirty hours thinking and writing this blog post about M-E Coffee and Writing event.
Words and thoughts just naturally flow.
“While writing, imagine what you’re writing for and who you’re telling the stories to. Only then, your writing tone becomes real.” - Trinh Lu
I thought about Trinh Lu’s wisdom on creative writing again.
I’m noticing, I’m writing in an active voice instead of a passive voice.
Something I haven’t done when writing in English for a while.
Somehow, for this writing, it felt right.
Am I writing this to myself?
Am I writing this for Muted Entity?
And I suddenly realized, I’m writing this to M-E, as an entity.
I told others that I’ve really been enjoying working on Muted Entity a lot lately.
I enjoy documenting and seeing myself, my team grow as we’re growing M-E.
Many people wrote about M-E as a unique cafe concept.
Some people wrote to M-E as a thought, a memory, a moment or a feeling that crosses their lives.
I’m writing about M-E from the reflective notes written in my journal.
I’m writing to M-E, as a team member, as a friend.
I’m seeing M-E as my personal sacred muted space,
A space where I feel safe and seen while freely exploring my creative interests.
Do you believe that when you care and try to connect with something so deeply, you begin to give a soul to an invisible entity?
-
I recalled stepping out for some fresh air before the event started. As I breathed in and sipped my coffee, a man approached me and asked, “I’m here for Muted Entity?”
He came here for Muted Entity.
He didn’t come here for Lichen, Joseph, Shea, Uyen or Jayshawn.
The man was here for Muted Entity.
-
I’m here again.
I’m at the cafe where we gathered together, around the same time last year.
It felt nostalgic.
A lot has changed since. They built a wall and rearranged the furniture. I spent five minutes walking around the cafe, touching the objects here. I noticed a notepad.
It was there too!
The similar notepad we used when brainstorming the name for our cafe last year.
We were a group of friends, who love creating art together. Now and then.
“Let’s start with a mood or a singular word. I like the word ‘Muted,’” I suggested.
And then, random words floated around.
Art. Alignment. Modern. Community. Connection…
All the words I could barely remember that we had written down on the cafe notepad papers back then.
“Muted Connection… I like the term ‘Muted Connection'. When was the last time you experienced a muted connection? A connection that touches deeper, without the need of words,” someone asked.
“Entity…What about ‘Muted Entity’?” someone said.
When was the last time you felt a muted connection—one that touched deeper than words?
From M-E event No.14—Coffee and Writing,
I realized,
Muted Entity has slowly formed a soul of its own.
-
References:
A furniture store in Ridgewood, New York.
"48 Hours and Something More," Vietcetera.
"Have you been doing anything fun lately?" (English translation from Vietnamese).
"Viết xong một cuốn sách, hãy đến bờ sông và thả nó trôi" ("After finishing a book, go to the river and let it drift away") — Ocean Vuong, in Have a Sip podcast, Episode 75, Vietcetera.