Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Day 28: Pobject's rocking chair

The chair, physical manifestation of her chaired professorship, was made of black lacquered wood with gold lettering on its decorative back. It stood unceremoniously to one side of my colleague’s office, piled chaotically with books and papers, post-it notes exploding from both.

I sat in a simpler chair, one with a soft green vinyl seat and unadorned wooden arms. I pulled it closer to her desk, and we broke the ice with a story of the beach-themed party her departmentmates threw her for her 60th birthday. “Complete with sand, inflatable palm trees, and a playlist of Beach Boys songs looping endlessly on the computer.”

What’s the comfort in a rocking chair?

Does the back-and-forth swing remind us more of life in the womb or life on the porch?

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