The importance of nature versus nurture is mostly one for the scientists. However, for me, 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?
HUH? Why is the kindle app telling me how much time I need to finish my book? That is not how I want to think about reading. I suppose it’s a small, but telling, indication of how our culture has changed. It makes me a little sad, but it’s also the price one pays for reading a book on a digital device. Sort of a Faustian bargain.
For those of you who have been reading my blog for awhile, these to do lists won’t come as any surprise. I just came back from a short family visit in France, and my brother handed me these pages…the latest installment to his growing oeuvre. However, for those of you who are new to Mrs. Easton, please don’t worry. He’s fine. Maybe a little busy. He and his partner run an unusual luxury travel business. Apparently, the devil truly is in the details. For the entire collection so far, go here.
A Friday night departure from NYC necessitates looking at the traffic maps if one doesn’t want to get stuck in a major snarl. There are times, though, when looking at the map means nothing in terms of finding a way out. So, this past weekend, there we sat, somewhere in those dark red lines. I entertained myself by zooming in on the various traffic circles and arteries leading in and out of Manhattan.
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