The Universe Chair

For Armchair Philosophers, Scientists and Theologians

When I moved into my current house, I bought a pinstriped armchair at a thrift store, assuming I would sit it in and contemplate the mysteries of existence and all things Universe. While exploring the interludes between sleep and wake a few years before the purchase, I had experienced a brief vision of what I interpreted as one of the many realities of our state of being – an image of churning colors, as though a massive dough hook were folding infinitely multicolored pinstripes into themselves. The colors were in constant motion, but never mixing. The image was so pertinent to me that it showed up in my first subpar novel, nearly all of my digital art and, of course, the fabric of the Universe Chair.

It’s been six years and I have come only a parsec closer to understanding what is going on in this universe, this simulation, projection, hallucination, reflection, dream…life or whatever you want to call it. But that doesn’t mean I’ve lost interest. A few days ago, I had another sort of phantasm while just on the edge of sleep. This time, I was dying. No, maybe I was dead. It was a spiritual death, one where I realized I’ve been living half asleep. I saw my sons puttering around me in an alternative ether, monitoring my vital signs as I took on a completely different form, one that looked a bit like one of my monster concoctions in the art world. My body was big and heavy, a not-so-elegant lump, very colorful but subdued by years of living half awake. As I lay there, dead in this world and in some sort of coma in the ether, I made the decision to come back to life.

I woke up renewed and reborn, then ventured out of my primordial cave to take a walk in the bright snow with my bright dog. I now sit facing the Universe Chair. The cushion is ripped, the arms are threadbare and I haven’t taken advantage of it’s perfectly cozy width to wedge myself in for a long time. It’s become a TV stand and a repository for cords, children’s art projects and window envelopes for utility bills that I save just in case I need them one day, even though I pay the bills online. But an armchair philosopher might find it poignant to not actually be sitting in the armchair while philosophizing. Thus, I humbly ask you to join me in navel-gazing wonder at the nature of existence. I will meander through concepts, communities and creations that provide meaning to me, with the hope that you will share those that speak to you as well. Welcome to the Universe Chair.