Grass Chair

Grass Chair in Paris

What I wouldn’t give this morning for this big, comfy chair we saw in Paris. A field for mid-afternoon daydreaming. A perch from which to watch the world go by. A space uncensored by reality.

Our Ikea chairs, on the other hand, are about to break, despite the reinforcing screws that Ash put in. Didn’t we say we’d never by furniture again that we could break apart with our own hands? That’s why I so love the teak table we bought on craigslist. Even with all its ghostly water rings and scratches.

It’s nice to have some things you can rely on to hold your weight. Last night, Ash and I sat in a seedy pub on Knight and 41st and wondered if we could rest our weight on our dreams. Writing, owning a business, travelling, making a design of our own instead of buying into an Ikea-course-of-life with its unsturdy legs.

I like that we look for happiness together. Even small ones, like the $21 I won on Hold’ Em poker.

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