“You have first of all to side with your own spirit, and your own taste. Then take the time, and have the courage, to express all your thoughts on the subject at hand (not just keeping the expressions that seem brilliant or distinctive). Finally you have to say everything simply, not striving for charm, but conviction.” Francis Ponge
By Francis Ponge
An armchair is a bourgeois throne; at the same time, it is the exact opposite of the throne, since it doesn’t imply any hieratism for the person that occupies it. It is a comfortable chair, we can even claim it as the most comfortable, a chair approaching sofa or bed. We sink, we ease into it to relax or recover our strength. This piece of furniture comes closest to the arms of mother or a wet nurse. It is a place ideal for someone overwhelmed by drowsiness, a place where we can remain half-asleep or simply sleep in a sitting position, or daydream. In any event, an armchair is associated with a secondary state, the one between the sitting and lying down, a position particularly conducive to receptive meditation.
When pulled by the cord, the boat appears to shift its weight form one foot to the other, tugging, as if it were a nervous and stubborn colt. However, what we have in front of us is but a rude receptacle very similar to a handle-less spoon. The concave and curvilinear shape is supposed to help us pilot; yet the first impression maybe different: this vehicle appears to have a mind of its own. The rocking movement mimics our hand gesturing uncertainty, so-so. But, as we slowly venture on a ride, the boat becomes submissive and easy to handle; and if this horse ever turns restive, there has to be a valid reason. Nevertheless, left to its own devices, the thing will inevitably follow the water currents to some kind of fatal end, just like a blade of straw.