Microbrewed Adventures - Charles Papazian [107]
Yes, anyone can do it. But to brew and develop knowledge of the brewers’ craft is something very special. It is not easy to do. Those of us who endeavor to brew belong to a worldwide community. We take the time to brew and we take the time to cherish the hard-earned insights we have gained as brewers. Those who do not brew can never know what we know about the blending of life sciences, arts and experiences. Take pride in your endeavor as a brewer. You’ve earned it.
The Gaze from Above, upon the Beer Below
Joining the BierConvent
IN AMSTERDAM, I found myself crossing a castle moat, entering what appeared to be a crumbling ruin, a lone tower protruding into the sky. Inside, there were thick walls that surrounded the spiraling staircase, three-foot-deep window wells allowing light into each balcony. The narrow staircase wound and wound and wound through three, four, then five enormous levels. Large rooms set aside at each floor’s pause were decorated in the style of the 15th century. The floorboards creaked. The ceilings were tall and airy. There were gypsies in the attic. Jesters and musicians wandered in the spirit of the time. The tall grand mirror in the second-floor banquet room was grayed with a smoky film.
She was dressed in flowing scarves, muted and well matched to the worn brick walls. “What do you have in your basket?” I asked. “What do you have in your bag?” she replied. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours…Anna the gypsy with a Dutch smile cocked her head to the side and managed a subtle twist in her lip.
“Will you read my cards?” I asked.
“No, not really thoroughly, but let’s see a few.”
I chose a card, then changed my mind, choosing a second before the first was revealed. The second card, she told me, is “the past.” From the second deck I chose and it revealed “a leader.” “But that is not really you…. You have struggled with being a leader in the past…your real role is of being a spiritual leader. People will turn to you for vision,” Anna continued.
I chose another card as she spread the original deck on the castle table. It was my original card: “emotions.”
“See, this is really your card…it is about your emotions and you should have stuck with this card when you first chose it. You need to feel your emotions and go with them more freely.”
From there I chose the card that would suit my emotions. The card I chose revealed “the fool.”
“But you really aren’t a fool; you see, the dog is the heart and he grounds you. Dare to be the fool. Follow your heart. It will be okay.”
I reached into my bag and found a small clay bird whistle, leaving Anna, the gypsy, with the small bird that has breathed the wishes of six continents and traveled with me around the world several times and was meant to be her keepsake that evening. I recall taking the tiny bird whistle out of my pack only one week before, just before departing home, and then replacing it for an impulsive unknown reason. Perhaps I was thinking it was meant to travel with me once again to its final destiny. A small child, a girl dressed in native clothes high in the Andes mountains of Ecuador, had given it to me as I was walking a countryside dirt road. When I left Anna, she was still staring at and holding the little bird whistle in her hand and began crying, “It’s about the same wish I’ve always