The Chair

A chair is still a chair even if there is no one sitting there – so, goes a line of an old song.  No doubt, yet even a chair may a have story worth telling if one only sees it with one’s heart.

Of all, I choose this chair.  This because it’s old, made of wood and avow of old money – mounds of money, perhaps.  And this in particular, because it seems to have it all.  This woodwork is seasoned, imbued with character and craftsmanship that can only be described as a labor of love and the promise of stories of times past.

This chair is old and frayed with patches of thinning wood stains on some areas that lay bare its woodiness.  The visible wood grains follow imaginary sinuous contours of alternating light and dark tracts that tell of its growth at diverse seasons. Although the grains follow a serpentine-like path, it is ultimately concentric and whose spider web appearance is permanently fossilized into the wood.  At its center is a dark soft, corky wood matter.  This Achilles is carved out and refilled with body filler and sealed.

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