Part 1: The Bike Crash

In in May of 2007, I was in a bicycle accident which probably should have left me with permanent brain damage. I was lucky enough to only have permanent nerve damage around my right hip, or as I call it: “My hurt side”.

The other cyclist who I collided with luckily had Homeowner’s Insurance, and as this happened in the litigious USA, I was compensated for my $12000 bicycle which was now in two pieces, and my $12000 medical bills.

I was also, as I was informed, entitled to “Pain and Suffering” compensation. I accepted the insurance companies offer of $12000 for this and was later told that I probably could have received closer to $120k if I had been more stubborn.

Instead of being a responsible person, I went down to Western Avenue to Ligne Roset and put the money down on a Facett sofa, chair, and ottoman, designed by the Bouroullec brothers. No money was left over. My justification was that I could recover from my injuries on the sofa. By the time the Facett pieces were delivered, I had already healed as much as I ever would.

Part 2: Copenhagen

In June I fly from Florence to Copenhagen for one day. I had been connected with the people at raawii through my friend Josef who had the idea that I could perhaps photograph Erwan Bouroullec who had just designed a new chair named for raawii. The chair, named “ARBA”, would be shown during 3 Days of Design.

I’m introduced to Erwan. I confirm in French. He says, “Are you the one who flew here just for this?” I reply “yes” (in English), and he asks me for the time. I tell him, and he says, “I have to go, I need to be somewhere.” And goes.

I wait.

I wait…

Erwan returns some hours later. He is appropriately apologetic and starts to show me around his works. He stands in front of a piece of his art and starts to explain it and explain entropy to me. I interrupt him and say something along the lines of “I assume you’ve been talking about work for three days. Let’s talk about ANYTHING else.”

He grabs ARBA off the gallery floor and walks out into the parking lot with it.

I tell him about my bike wreck and my Facett sofa and he tells me a story. I’ll butcher it below as I cannot remember the names or ages of the daughters (I think):

“I was at Ligne Roset once and a woman approaches me after recognizing me and says, ‘we bought one of your sofas here because our daughter is rarely calm, but when she sat in this sofa, she was instantly calm, and we knew we needed to have it at home for her.’

I replied, that’s so nice to hear, what is your daughter’s name?

‘Mathilda’ she said.

I said, ‘That’s also my daughter’s name, how old is she?’

’14’ she said.

I replied, “that’s also my daughter’s age, when is her birthday?”

‘The 17th of February’, she said.

Erwan looks at me and starts to tell me, with wide eyes, about how bizarre that coincidence was. I interrupt him and say “Well to top it off, February 17th is my mom’s birthday as well.

Erwan stands up, grabs the chair, and walks back towards the event, totally freaked out by this.

Part 3: Paris

It’s never sunny in Paris anymore. I ride to Belleville to visit Erwan in his new studio space. It’s annoyingly wet outside.

I’m remembering that In Copenhagen we talked about Nirvana, and I tell him that I think that Kurt Cobain was very likely murdered. This also blows his mind. Pun very much not intended.

In my venture to have interesting people make me coffee in their private homes, Erwan offers me a coffee. Check that box off.

I meet Erwan’s puppy, Pata. Pata is a welcomed distraction and ends up being in a many of the photos.

Erwan tells me that he wants to hang up some paintings and asks me to join him downstairs.

Everything is green. I ask Erwan if green is his favorite color. Blue is the favorite color of all my friends who grew up in the south of France, and I ask him if green has any symbolism for him as a Breton. He surprisingly answers that he had not put that much thought into it before.

He hangs primarily green paintings from hooks in the beams above. Pata jumps onto one of the paintings which has been draped on the sofa, and Erwan patiently lifts him off.

Erwan shows me his creations and again explains entropy to me. There is a Cupie on the table in front of him as he does so, and the sound of Pata’s feet trapsing around the floors of the room.

I gather my things and head back out into the rain, think about how 17 years ago and my Facett sofa and chair, and how weird life can be.

Thanks, Erwan.