The Big Red Chair Project

The big red chair is difficult to sit in. It is larger than life. It doesn't just invite your bottom to plop down and peer forward like a chair in a restaurant. It envelops you. What ever mood or energy you brought to visit the chair is stripped at the doorway. The chair speaks to you. It asks how you are feeling today. Is there something you want to express? Is there something you want to let go of? Is there something, I, the chair, can do to help? 

“There once was a big red chair in my living room. My sweet old dog, Luna, enjoyed sitting up on the back of it so she could look out the window. Luna passed, and the chair got old, too. Because this chair means a lot to me, I pushed it into my studio. It is a reassurance as I work that my little one is still there and that there are cherished friends to come.”

“Where is my place in the world? Sustenance comes from feeling appreciated, from feeling loved by a “family,” by a community, by the Big Red Chair tribe. When I see the pieces all together, I am awestruck and overwhelmed by the sparkling beauty by which I am surrounded. I am grateful for the experience and the privilege. Namaste.”

“During Covid one was only a cipher, not someone interesting. We were all just “things” with masks who might possibly be a spreader of the disease, or worse, die. We were reduced to robots doing our jobs on a digital platform, being parents who couldn’t permit our expressions of love because we were afraid we could make our children sick. I taught at the college level and suddenly had to reduce my persona into a voice on a computer monitor. This is not healthy for a person who thrived by human contact. Thus, the Big Red Chair Project began.”