Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s been awhile. A titch over two years, if we want to be specific. I hope you’re all well. I’ve been pondering the many shifts in our methods and means of connecting with one another in this online ecosystem. In the past few years our lives have been transformed and, in some cases, taken over by social media. This may be a balm to some and a curse for others. I am deeply conflicted. On the one hand, it feels ridiculous to be sharing on the blog what is basically the equivalent of a novel. If it isn’t a single image, or confined to 140 characters, what’s the point. Oh, and the political climate has left so many of us reeling. Anything other than protest has seemed both trite and largely irrelevant. This is a partial answer as to why I stopped. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but something that happened more by slow attrition and inattention. Other reasons will be made clear over time. But I miss Mrs. Easton. It was a regular, self-imposed discipline, a personal diary of sorts, which forced me to look more closely at my surroundings, and to inquire about things that caught my attention, but of which I knew little. And, in many cases, almost nothing. I also miss the back and forth of the virtual community. It’s now been slightly more that 9 years since I started this endeavor. This here is an attempt to reestablish the routine. I hope you’ll join me.
The above post was one of my very first, and feels even more relevant now than before.
These beauties are courtesy of the artist Josh Blackwell. Thank you Josh! I will never again look at my plastic bags the same way.
Here is a little preview of the new chair being shown at this week’s ICFF show in NYC. The show runs from May 14 – 17 at the Jacob K. Javits Center. You can see it at Booth 2154.
The Callicoon Chair is a happy collaboration between myself, and Stephanie Seal Brown, a gifted hand weaver and textile designer based out of Kentucky and NYC. The aim was to design a seat that was small in profile but with a substantial presence. Equally important, and the genesis of the design itself, was figuring out a way to showcase Stephanie’s exceptional linen tape trim in a manner that was both striking and less predictable. The frame is made of powder coated steel (yes, it’s kind of heavy, but not too much so) and the foam cushion is covered in a lovely natural textured linen, edged with a subtle touch of trim.
Chair Dimensions: 27”H x 22”W x 27.75”D
Please come visit us…
This vintage animal puzzle was last summer’s bounty for wandering into one of my favorite shops, Maison Bergogne, in Narrowsburg, NY. I wasn’t exactly drawn in by the box, so I’m not quite sure why I removed the lid. Needless to say, I was pleased that my curiosity got the better of me. I should know that if something is in Juliette and Anie’s shop, it will likely be special in one way or another. And that taking the time to explore yields many aesthetic rewards. My favorite cards in the puzzle are the ones that have been repaired with a needle and thread. *See the rat and the fox.
Oh, and keep in mind that sometime in early summer, Juliette, along with biz partner Laura Silverman, plan to open bar/cafe Fish & Bicycle.
The importance of nature versus nurture is mostly one for the scientists. However, for myself, the lay person, the question presented itself during a recent visit to my father’s home. You know how family behaviors or environments can be so familiar, to a point of near invisibility? Well, on this particular day, as I was sitting in my father’s study, his desk chair slowly came into focus. I’d looked at it many times before. I’d even sat in it. But never had I taken full stock of its Frankenstein qualities. As you can see, the seat is an assemblage of pillows and straps, all bound together with rope. It’s neither pretty nor comfortable. Although there is an interesting graphic quality to the way in which the rope weaves in and out of the holes. As an industrial designer, one who espouses simplicity and function, as well as comfort, I don’t in any way consider this to be a viable solution to the vexing question of what to sit on while at one’s desk. I’ve pondered the fact that the owner of the chair is indeed my father, and that I am his daughter. Dad, how did this happen?
A recent jaunt to Cooperstown, NY meant that I would finally get a chance to visit the Farmers’ Museum. I’ve been meaning to go there for ages, and was well rewarded for my patience. The museum is located on land that was, and still is, a working farm originally owned by the writer James Fenimore Cooper. Its history goes back to the beginning of the 19th century. The museum comprises a collection of pristine historic buildings, many of which have been relocated from other farms and towns in upstate NY. The architecture is astonishing. These images are taken in the Cornwallville Church which was originally built in 1795 in East Durham, NY. If you’re wondering, the numbers correspond to the church pews.
I pass this logging operation with some degree of regularity. I always want to stop and take photographs, but I tell myself that I’ll do it next time. This happens to me a lot. Well, I finally drove by the other day and then promptly turned around and parked in the dusty lot. One of the owners lumbered (pardon the pun) out to inquire about my presence. A strange woman taking pictures of your recently felled logs is not necessarily a welcome sight in these parts, so I told him I was a designer working on a project about patterns. And would he mind if I snapped a few quick ones. He looked at me as if I were crazy, but then flashed a warm smile and gave me the a-okay. I enjoy the way the timbers are all marked on the ends. But when I see the bigger trees it makes me a little sad. Does anyone know what the notations mean?
No, not the Brooklyn Dodgers. The Hardy Boys. To be clear, this collection of books is not my own. Although I believe we once did have quite a few of them, in addition to many of the Nancy Drew and Bobsey Twins series. I always thought the latter were more insipid and less imaginative than the rest of those adolescent detectives, but they were younger and less experienced, so I’ll let them ride for now. Spotted on a recent trip to Maine, at this wonderful antique store.
Lots of changes afoot here, but will save that for another post.
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