10
The house
The house
- Welcome home, it’s nice to see you. How are you? You look good.
(with a big smile, some genuine love in the eyes, touching my arm.)
And a cozy hug now. Notice the flowers in the corner, the day is nice, sunny, but not hot, cardigan weather, light jacket, shirt over t-shirt climate. The house smells of couple of things; a carrot cake, some sharp mens parfume (scent of clove), some citric smell, like fresh squeezed lime, and some wood. Merged with some fresh autumn air, nostrils widen, I take a deep breath, it’s still slightly chilly inside but not cold, we walk around the fireplace.
- Do you remember this? The last time you came we weren’t sure if the chain was too punk, or too out of place. We thought maybe the chair should be more humanised to carry the chain, maybe more organic, Marion made a model, with some feminine forms, and then it stopped being a chair, it was too much of a thing. Then, one day we were exhausted and just sitting on the sofa, I was petting Ada’s ear, and this came to my mind.
- I like it. It works beautifully. — Where is Ada?
(She smiled at my comment happily)
- She is out with friends. She should be back in a bit.
- I missed her so much.
She stopped for a second, realising I’m here, her eyes filled with joy, we looked at eachother and hugged.
The entrance to the studio always had the same air, it was humid, but fresh, some plaster casts for various sculptures and more utilitarian ceramics, and then it was seperated by some plastic film, the other side is for wood things. I imagined the smell of wood resin, some exotic dark wood, wood dust on the floor, we crossed over, it was exactly as I imagined, but there was a sculpture I didn’t expect on the table in the middle.
- Ruben is coming tonight?
- They are already here, we’ll go say hi in a minute.
I met Ruben in an island, we were neighbors, he was working in a farm and smoking weed every possible second, generally in front of my door. He would listen to everything, for hours, looking for new music. After I left I heard they got famous in the island, I didn’t know he played, watched a concert of them online, they play raggea mixed with jazz-funk, but with so much energy and rawness, farmer rockstar energy, he yells things in between the songs, but also polished, comes with practice I think. They are playing tonight.
There is a bench at the corner of the studio, a very old beaten down work bench, on it there is a kettle, couple of empty cups, a jar of instant coffee, some brushes in the water, a sketchbook, some crackers. Above it was a photo I took in Lisbon, framed. I gifted it to them.
- Maria, I realised the cities next to the sea, drain into the sea. I mean, the buildings, the streets, the people and the views. Everything bends down towards the sea.
We had a silence. I didn’t break eye contact, it took Maria couple of seconds to adjust to the change in conversation. She looked at the photo.
excitedly;
- I see it! Do you want some coffee? I’m going to make some.
(unfinished)
(with a big smile, some genuine love in the eyes, touching my arm.)
And a cozy hug now. Notice the flowers in the corner, the day is nice, sunny, but not hot, cardigan weather, light jacket, shirt over t-shirt climate. The house smells of couple of things; a carrot cake, some sharp mens parfume (scent of clove), some citric smell, like fresh squeezed lime, and some wood. Merged with some fresh autumn air, nostrils widen, I take a deep breath, it’s still slightly chilly inside but not cold, we walk around the fireplace.
- Do you remember this? The last time you came we weren’t sure if the chain was too punk, or too out of place. We thought maybe the chair should be more humanised to carry the chain, maybe more organic, Marion made a model, with some feminine forms, and then it stopped being a chair, it was too much of a thing. Then, one day we were exhausted and just sitting on the sofa, I was petting Ada’s ear, and this came to my mind.
- I like it. It works beautifully. — Where is Ada?
(She smiled at my comment happily)
- She is out with friends. She should be back in a bit.
- I missed her so much.
She stopped for a second, realising I’m here, her eyes filled with joy, we looked at eachother and hugged.
The entrance to the studio always had the same air, it was humid, but fresh, some plaster casts for various sculptures and more utilitarian ceramics, and then it was seperated by some plastic film, the other side is for wood things. I imagined the smell of wood resin, some exotic dark wood, wood dust on the floor, we crossed over, it was exactly as I imagined, but there was a sculpture I didn’t expect on the table in the middle.
- Ruben is coming tonight?
- They are already here, we’ll go say hi in a minute.
I met Ruben in an island, we were neighbors, he was working in a farm and smoking weed every possible second, generally in front of my door. He would listen to everything, for hours, looking for new music. After I left I heard they got famous in the island, I didn’t know he played, watched a concert of them online, they play raggea mixed with jazz-funk, but with so much energy and rawness, farmer rockstar energy, he yells things in between the songs, but also polished, comes with practice I think. They are playing tonight.
There is a bench at the corner of the studio, a very old beaten down work bench, on it there is a kettle, couple of empty cups, a jar of instant coffee, some brushes in the water, a sketchbook, some crackers. Above it was a photo I took in Lisbon, framed. I gifted it to them.
- Maria, I realised the cities next to the sea, drain into the sea. I mean, the buildings, the streets, the people and the views. Everything bends down towards the sea.
We had a silence. I didn’t break eye contact, it took Maria couple of seconds to adjust to the change in conversation. She looked at the photo.
excitedly;
- I see it! Do you want some coffee? I’m going to make some.
(unfinished)