Prologue | At the Table
- kendallbryantcc
- Oct 21
- 3 min read
A beginning — and an invitation
There’s something about a table.
It’s deceptively ordinary. Just four legs and a flat surface. But somehow, it’s where everything happens — the big conversations and the small, sacred ones.
It’s where you’ve cried into your tea, laughed until you snorted, scrolled aimlessly, paid bills, dreamed big, argued over dishes, signed something life-changing, or just sat staring out the window, wondering who you’re becoming.
A table is rarely just furniture. It’s a stage. A confessional. A makeshift altar.A witness to the everyday theatre of our lives.

Why We’re Gathering Here
This project — The Table — was born from a longing I think a lot of us share.To slow down. To see each other again. To rediscover what’s human beneath all the hurry.
Starting next week, for the next eight weeks, we’re going to explore what happens at the table — the visible and invisible things that make us who we are.We’ll talk about the meals that changed us, the people who didn’t show up, the brave conversations that cracked something open, and the dream tables we still long to set.
Each week, you’ll find a new reflection here — a mix of story, prompt, and creative invitation. You can read, reflect, or join in. You can make art, write words, or just sit quietly with your cup of something warm and think.
There’s no right way to show up. Only a willingness to.
How It Works
Every Monday, a new episode will drop here on the site.
(If you subscribe, it’ll land gently in your inbox — like a friend saying “pull up a chair.”)
Each week has a prompt — a question, a story spark, a creative challenge — designed to open a window into your own life.
You can contribute by sharing your reflections, images, or creations using the form below each post. All contributions feed into our Living Table Wall — a growing online artwork made from your words, photos, and sketches.
Throughout the series, we’ll also have two kinds of in-person gatherings:
Paper Cup Pop-Ups — free drop-ins where we decorate cups for a hanging community installation (no need to book; just come play).
Cuppa Connect — small, cosy creative workshops held at Miss Lucy Café in Nunawading. Each one is $25, with a $5 voucher for your cuppa of choice included. These two-hour sessions are for anyone ready to slow down, make something meaningful, and talk about the things that matter most.
Begin: Thursday 6 November 10am - 12pm
A Few Things You Should Know
You don’t need to be an artist to belong here.You don’t need to have the right words or the right answers.
All you need is curiosity — and maybe the courage to sit down for a moment longer than usual.
This project isn’t about making masterpieces. It’s about making meaning.About remembering that art and life are already tangled together — in the spills, the smudges, the laughter, the quiet.
Why “The Table”?
Because tables are honest.They hold everything: joy, grief, paperwork, hope.They remind us that hospitality doesn’t always look like matching napkins.Sometimes it’s a chipped mug and a question that makes someone exhale.
And honestly? That’s enough.
A Little Blessing to Begin
May your week hold small pauses.May your table remember you kindly.May your stories rise like steam from a fresh cup. And may this next eight weeks remind you: you already belong here.
What It’s All Leading To
Everything we create together — every story, every cup, every gathering — will lead to The Final Feast on Saturday 20 December [6:30pm – 8:30pm followed by Carols]
It will be a beautiful culmination of all we’ve shared: art, theatre, music, and movement woven together into one collective celebration.
There will be opportunities to get involved along the way — through workshop, creative contributions and even a music video! So keep an eye out here for invitations to take part.
For now, just know this: every time you show up, make, reflect, or share, you’re helping build that feast.

This Week's Creative Prompt
If your table could talk, what story would it tell about your life right now?
Maybe it’s a story of chaos and coffee stains. Maybe it’s quiet, patient, waiting for someone to sit down.
Write it. Photograph it. Sketch it. Or just describe it in a few lines.
Then share it — here, online, or with someone you love — and see what happens when we start listening to the tables that have been holding us all along.
Pull up a chair.Let’s begin.
→ Next: Week 1 — Everyday Tables

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