The new Studio Warehouse Move, My Son, My Chair

Feeling particularly hesitant about moving my studio practice out of the guestroom and into a warehouse full of ceramicists, I seized upon the idea that it would only work IF I found the right chair!

After all, I could easily envision, a chair  cushion was necessary to cradle moments of restful insight, for launching preparations, and presiding a seat for assessments. It had to have a soft back, upright enough not to let me slouch into a slumber and with smart head rest to hold in the daydreams. I needed the legs to have enough lift to sweep out the dust from underneath, and also arms wide enough to support a range of views and motions. I have painted this inspired chair from my imagination over and over and over the years... And this is what I showed my son Max over his spring break.

He is a wiz at finding and dragging home odd chairs. As a child he was bringing more things home from the dump than his original trash chore so I had to be careful sending him out. Once, just finding the right cushions for a free chair he dragged home cost us hundreds of dollars! So when I asked him this time to help me find the chair in the picture, I knew he would have some ideas. I was ready to scour Central avenue antique shops in St Pete.

Our first stop was a furniture shop on Treasure Island. We walked in and out in under ten minutes. The next place he drove me to (we had my mother's van) was the Goodwill superstore on 34th. There Max led me straight to a chair I hardly recognized. Yes, it was upright and clean and faded pinkish-tan, and it had the head rest with the clear legs, and was pretty comfortable... but, sitting in that store it looked pretty ugly. "This is it," came a voice that could have been Max's, or it could have been in my head. But even then I was unsure so I sat in it and made a phone call to Michael. "How much?" he asked, and when I told him $40, he encouraged me to go ahead and bring it home to try. "Paint it," said Max.

And so I have! Here is the chair in my corner space of the warehouse.