Welcome to Camellia

School of Modern Tea Arts

At Camellia, tea is a way of life—rooted in ancient Chinese and Taiwanese tea widsom and adapted to modern times.

Our Philosophy

There is no right or wrong way to do tea. Yet many carry a quiet fear of “doing it wrong”—a hesitation that holds them back. At Camellia, we want to remove this barrier and offer the confidence to make tea your own. You are invited to form a personal, living relationship with tea—one rooted in respect, but expressed uniquely through you.

Tea is an adaptive medicine—it travels, evolves, and meets people where they are. Across cultures and centuries, tea has transformed to meet the needs of those it encounters while its essence remains unchanged. However, tea education—especially in the West—remains largely inaccessible. The best teachers often don’t advertise, and when you find them, they may not speak English.

Meanwhile, the rising popularity of tea has diluted its depth. In a landscape shaped by capitalism and consumerism, it can be hard to know who to trust—and where to begin.

Camellia bridges this gap. Tapping into millennia of knowledge, we translate Chinese tea teachings into English and invite Western tea lovers to develop their own relationship with tea. We believe tea can meet a need in modern life—for accessible beauty, ritual, and presence free from dogma. A personal tea practice offers a return to stillness and a way to come home to yourself.

Our school asks: What is modern tea culture in the Western world? How does tea want to be expressed through you and your unique ancestral roots?

Our Approach

We’ve observed a quiet tension in the tea world—let’s call it science versus art.

Tea scientists value precision. They believe there are good, better, and best ways to brew tea. Their aim is to produce the most refined cup through experimentation and technique. They work with form, tools, and timing to draw out the finest qualities of each tea.

Tea artists, on the other hand, cherish freedom. For them, the feeling tea evokes is more important than how it tastes. They are attuned to the subtle language of energy—how different movements, materials, and tools each carry a distinct quality. They move with intuition and cultivate beauty to create a profound experience that defies words.

Both paths are valid. And yet, each side can misunderstand the other.
“Tea scientists are too rigid.”
“Tea artists are all fluff.”

At Camellia, we walk the path of tea as art—not because it’s better, but because it’s what we know. To us, tea is medicine. Through intentional practice, we slow down, attune to nature, and remember how to come home to ourselves and one another.

Our school explores five areas of cultivation:

  1. Knowledge

  2. Skill

  3. Art and Beauty

  4. Body and Movement

  5. Meditation

We provide a structured yet intuitive path for deepening your relationship with tea, whether you are just beginning or wish to refine your ceremonial practice.

Meet Songya

Tea Educator & Founder

Left: Grandma Tsai, Baby Songya, and Cousins (1986)

Above: An AI rendition of Songya today (because she doesn’t want to take a proper photo)

My relationship with tea began in childhood, watching my grandmother brew oolong in a simple rice bowl in Taipei. Her practice was effortless, woven into daily life, free from ceremony yet full of presence. Years later, I lost touch with that simplicity, overwhelmed by the commercialized world of tea. It wasn’t until a visit to Taiwan in 2018—where I studied Gongfu Tea (功夫茶), ChaYi (茶艺), and ChaDao (茶道)—that I reconnected with tea as a living practice. Under the guidance of teachers who emphasized intuition, chi, and attunement, I learned to build a relationship with tea beyond a beverage.

I founded Camellia not as an expert, but as a fellow traveler—someone who translates modern and current tea teachings from Chinese to English, creating a space where tea can be explored with reverence and personal expression. My hope is to help others cultivate their own relationship with tea—one that is intuitive, alive, and deeply personal.

Tea is always evolving. So are we. Let’s discover where this path leads, together.

First, I am not a tea master. I am still a student—not a secret tea master practicing humility by calling myself a student, but an actual student. My journey with tea is ongoing, shaped by practice, curiosity, and an ever-deepening relationship with the leaf.

I never set out to start this school. When the idea first emerged, I hesitated. “I haven’t studied enough. I need 10–15 more years. Who am I to share such sacred wisdom? It’s too much work.” Yet, each time I sat with tea, she offered a gentle nudge. Over time, I realized that tea wasn’t asking me to be a master—it was inviting me to be a bridge.