A SPOT IN A LANDSCAPE
Lunch periods, after school, we rollerbladed for miles, climbed up embankments, found ourselves laying on warm, sunny stones, arranged just so. Even city kids could learn to appreciate nature in a place as tame and accommodating as this. This is where I learned to find comfort in a landscape.
Central Park is not nature; It is an idealized version of it. As I would learn in architecture school years later, its architect, Frederick Law Olmstead, envisioned the park as an endless painting, with every path leading to a new view, every turn into an idyllic new frame, every close look at the scene to an inhabitable spot to plant yourself. Every tree in the place was planted deliberately, and every boulder and smatter of rocks, planted too.
This “Snug Stone” is partially upholstered with all sorts of hidden textures. The large stone is upholstered from within with garden gate springs, which produce an indescribably comfortable and uniquely delightful seat shifting movement. The higher level by contrast is solid. The small stone holds a pocket of air. The smallest stone, latex. The homogeny of felt obscures the mixture of secret textures, and an experience only understandable through actual occupation, and exploited through grown familiarity.
In my dreams, an abundance of these stones, at different heights and different sizes would encourage the user to discover their own place in the landscape they create. The wool is invitingly soft and warm... embrace exploration, and then settle in.
