Chairs, Sitting, Leaning back
I haven’t stopped drawing furniture for the past four months.
I started drawing when I quit smoking cigarettes in preparation for a surgery. My boyfriend at the time was an avid smoker, so in his smoking presence, I drew chairs and other furniture to curb my craving. The ritualistic ease that came from drawing something so simple yet meticulous likened itself to a cigarette. I got my surgery and whilst recovering on oxy, I let myself explore furniture forms some more. Many stacks of chairs and stools and tables were drawn, many forced perspectives and beds and fun. The oxy made my hand steady. I sent each drawing to him.
The ritual took different forms after we broke up. The furniture had shadows now.
Drawing reminded me of him, so once I started smoking again, post-op, and the cigarettes reminded me of him, the chairs were now just chairs.
My furniture. Not his at all.
To embody complete ownership over these forms, I chose to translate them into textile. Crocheting, a singular medium I have now returned to after a year of ceramics, has been the technical pivot I needed to come back to myself. With a fresh outfit, I am now allowing myself to sit on these chairs, and to lean back.*
*In doll form.
Me Chair
Red Chair
Naked Chair
Favorite Chair
Blue Chair
