Thursday, June 17, 2010

Pantone 186C

I had made a promise to myself and my new place of residence to never buy furniture on demand.
I had a dream to fill my home with items that were stumbled upon, reupholstered and laquered with characterer.
For too long I have lived under a banner of Ikea and through desperation my warped white table had travelled with me.
And on Sunday the day of my twenty seventh birthday I wandered into a beautiful old warehouse. My eyes lit up seeing chairs hung high against an old brickwall. I felt at home standing at the entrance of the house of modern retro scandinavia. I knew then it was time to redecorate. There were two red chairs stacked in the corner in a natural light timber and red cloth seats. I dusted off the seats and turned them on their feet. He always told me to check underneath. There were minor markings, strong Danish legs and labelled original vintage. I flipped it back over sat down and knew I needed this classic armchair. I finally understood the real joy of original pieces of furniture. I was happy to age a year as long as I had my red chairs by my side.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

Six Hours Facing North

I am not so systematic in thinking its too late to get a good nights rest. Six hours facing north will not be enough to get me up without a stumble in my crooked knee and a squint in my tired eye. The top of my head keeps telling me to go to bed. But my fingers are stubborn, so Ill wait until my tired eyes are heavy enough to not see black symbols on my white screen. 
I had believed that I had forgotten what an empty road is like to drive at midnight. But after slowing down to rolling kilometres I knew I had not mistaken myself for someone who forgot the journey home but rather the time. He waved me down with his traffic controller instrument, or rather his tools of trade and convinced me to break and move to the left. 
I remembered that morning when I found myself in that same lane but a little more distressed. My car screeched to a halting stop with a smell of burnt rubber around the edges. I looked up and found the nearby bush caught in my windscreen.  I knew I had stopped but something reckless had happened. I looked around for other signals that would help reconstruct what happened in the last minute. But I couldn’t quite make out the time and nothing would move. I looked down below at my feet and could see bare toes staring back. I distinctly remembered my mother. I always tend to remember my mother at stressful times. I knew she wouldn’t jump to say anything but she would give me a look. Her face would hide concern and the lines around her eyes would comfort me. 
I left home early today, offering my sister a twenty minute lift north in a blurred state and a hurry. I left without any footwear and wearing abstract circles on my pants. I looked over at the passenger seat of the car but I had nothing, no shoes, no phone and a dead ignition. A car pulled up seconds after and I winded down my window with a shaking palm. After hearing my fathers words being uttered by two strangers I called home. 
I wanted a grey Beret large enough to hide my face. I wanted to go to sleep.  In my room, he went through the emotions for me and explained how lucky I had been.  I tried to feel as though I had a near death experience but I could only squeeze out three watered down tears.  He needed the emotions and I think he wanted to feel something real. I did not feel saved or lucky but ever so thankful to the strangers in the left lane this morning. I called my sister she was a lot less dramatic than me.  She questioned, advised, smiled, hugged me and laughed.  
I went back to my room put some socks on my feet and went back to sleep.