The body is the first shape, something to bear it, the next. 

The chair is simple; a place of rest, a foundation, an offering of strength, a way of exploring what it means to create stability. After all the effort, in the end, it supports you back. And that’s what we’re all doing, everyday, every lifetime. Working, 

just for a place to rest. 

 

And yet, it becomes twisted. Support isn’t always obvious, nor is it always stable. A chair that’s transparent, a ghost of something once sturdy; leaning, yet put back into its form. It can press against the spine, tracing the body’s own structure. It can shift and mold, uncertain in its form but still holding weight. It can be pulled from where you thought there was nothing at all. We only look for something solid, something that will hold. But sometimes, what supports us isn’t what we expect. Sometimes it hides in fragility, in extension, in adaptation.