This is my sofa
Currently it’s in the basement untill the roof of the wagon is a bit more rain-proof, a subject for my next post.
This is also the first thing I’ve built, back in February this year. A sort of screen test to see if I could manage to bring different pieces together and make them stick. So far my work has been with words, now it’s wood and wool.
While planning the house, I came across all the questions about what I wanted from a house, what I wanted to surround myself with. And a sofa, is a very defining feature in a house. It takes a lot of space. It defines that space and it’s shape determines how you place your body for a large portion of your life. It is not, however, necessary.
The sofa is a fairly new thing here, not widespread untill early 1800, and not introduced without some controversy regarding how it would make people lazy, deformed and morally corrupt. Some may claim they were right. For me, the sofa is where I read. (also a moraly questionable preoccupation a while ago). So,since I read, I want a sofa. And since I have problems finding a sofa to my liking, I made one myself.
Most sofas I find too hard, too soft, too deep, too low or too high. With the armrests too wide, too thin. The fabric in dull or garish colors and the overall design just simply trying too hard to look casual and unobtrusive. So much so they end up screaming at you.
This it therefore made to my measurements, my size, with regard to how I like to sit and my preferred colours, in this case a moss-green Harris tweed. The seat has down cushions overlying foam-covered metal springs and the armrests are open, because I like to stick my feet out. Also, as you may notice, these is a fair amount or ribbons, decorative buttons and curves. For my eyes rests better at curves than angles, I have found.
So, without settling too comfortably in materialism, I can still say that there is some truth to the claim know your sofa, know yourself.