My Favorite Seat in the House

 

There are too many seats in my little house for one person! Never too many seats I think to myself, looking into my living room from the kitchen, counting the seating vessels and wondering how many butts they have been weighed down by in their life time, before making their way into my living room. Every chair and seat in my hobbit house has been either a curbside find or it’s been thrifted. The two cain back chairs are the only seats in the house acquired via money exchange, totaling less than $30. Ironically, I started collecting chairs when I didn’t have a permanent home and not a clue as to what State I’d be living in next to even make use of these seating arrangements. My sister who’s chair collection well surpasses mine, rolled her eyes when I brought home my treasures. I may have sensed a tinge of jealousy? I was temporarily occupying one side of her unfinished basement at that time. Life was uncertain, as it always is, but I simply couldn’t pass up a good find, acted out of impulse and bought the chairs. Now one of the chairs lends itself to putting-on and taking-off shoes by the front door or as an extra chair at the table when I have more than one guest over for dinner. 

“ Always prepare for unexpected company!” Wisdom from my imaginary grandmother.

There is the oversized peachy pink vintage Loveseat that sat outside a gallery with a “FREE” sign pinned to the cushion. Aside from the sun-bleached fade in the back, she is in mint condition. I found someone to help me load her up and years later she’s got the best view in the house, placed directly across the record player, looking past the front yard at the forest across the way that is occasionally interrupted by a house. She seats two smaller framed people comfortably. Not big enough to stretch out and fall asleep on, unless you’re my buddy who falls asleep on her, half-seated, in mid-sentence , holding a glass of whiskey upright. I must say I was impressed. But who needs a couch anyway? Lazy people!

The flat-bar chrome arm chair with forest green upholstery was first listed for $50 on a neighborhood website. I didn’t have a disposable $50 to spend at the time and a few days later when I checked the listing again, expecting the chair to be gone, to my delight I saw it had been marked down to FREE for the first person available to haul it away. It was meant to be, I was the lucky one who showed up first. Acquiring furniture in this way is so much more satisfying than walking into a new furniture store, picking out and paying an absurd amount of money for something that holds little history. If my chairs could talk I wonder what stories they would tell. But I digress, let’s get back to the flat-bar chrome arm chair. Apparently it belonged to the mother of the woman who listed it. It weighs a ton but after doing some research I found out that the value of this chair reaches well into the thousands, therefore making it even better of a find. Green also happens to be my favorite color and the chair fits perfectly into my eclectic living room where I plan for it to become my reading chair. All that is missing now is an ottoman to prop up my feet, as I may eventually get around to finishing a book.

Opposite corner of the flat-bar chrome arm chair resides my wingless wing-back chair with queen Anne style walnut legs, similar to the legs found on my oversized-love seat. The green color of the upholstery almost perfectly matches that of the chair formerly mentioned. This chair is almost exclusively occupied during occasional gigs where I pose as the model for online portrait drawing classes. The natural light filtered into that corner is perfect for this sort of thing. Although not my favorite, this chair is surprisingly comfortable and came free, left behind by the previous owner of my sister and brother-in law’s house. As I sit in it still like a statue for 2 hours during those classes with a laptop camera in my face, I focus my eyes on a spot in the distance, wondering how weird my neighbors must think I am if they saw me sitting in the window, staring, without moving my gaze for 20 minutes at a time. I find myself in an almost forced meditation when I sit in this chair, thinking about nothing or thinking about lists: Laundry lists, bucket lists, grocery lists, to do lists. Any kind of list, really!

One of four white bucket chairs, a gift from my mom when I lived in Austin, modeled after an original mid-century modern design shows it’s back to the rest of the room, its legs nuzzled in the space under the desk fitting perfectly between the drawers stacked on each side. This chair holds me in my most creative hours that do not include writing. For that, I sit in a wicker chair that is part of a bistro dining set that lives in my kitchen. You guessed it… I sit in it now as I write this. The set is a permanent loaner under the pretense of my sister’s "first right of refusal". 

The wicker chair, my bottom is currently pressed up against, is by far the most sat-in chair in my house. I sit in it to eat, write, journal, drink my morning coffee, and to watch the squirrels and birds from the window to my left. The wicker making squeaky sounds with every shift of my body, getting up for more coffee or switching sides when crossing my legs.

But my favorite seat in the house; will always be the one occupied by good company!