Sweet Serendipity
There are times when a piece at an estate sale seems to speak to me. This chair is a case in point. The sale was a distance away in Wisconsin, but the house had a stunning quilt studio and a great deal of art so I had to go. Kay Sorenson, the owner, had been an early pioneer in quilting back in the 1980s, and amusingly, she seemed to never throw anything away. Wandering through the small, crammed house was a bit like walking through a quilter’s time capsule. 1980s quilted clothing? Check. Amish style quilts? Check. Modern art quilts? Check. Fabulous vaulted sewing studio chock full of supplies, yarn, old quilts and treasures? Check.
This chair was sitting forlornly in a family room space, and the price tag was a tad steep for me at $150. The chair tried desperately to convince me to cart it home, sparkling in the sun and showing off its stunning hand painting. I refrained, both due to price and the ever present question of just what the heck I would do with it. I got home, still pining for the piece. Sigh. A dear friend told me she was stopping by the sale on the last day so I asked her to look for it. The sales people said someone was buying it. However, that sale fell through and my friend was told it was now available. She called to ask what I thought, and I told her to give them a lowball offer…which they accepted! She kindly delivered it to me and I brought it inside with no clue where to put it.
The piece is remarkable. The armchair is likely vintage 1940s, well-constructed and covered in a striped silk fabric. Then Kay Sorenson painted the ENTIRE thing – legs a variety of shades of green, and the silk fabric with wonderful sprays of huge flowers, front and back. I am not sure what type of fabric paint she used, but it is soft and very permanent and the chair promptly landed in my bookcase hall, where it has been endlessly admired by my art appreciating friends.
Recently I finished a major ‘overhaul’ of what had been a guest room space connected to my sewing area. When I mentioned I was thinking to remove the large bed, my husband joked I was simply looking for more room for my sewing stuff. Duh. The bed, frame and all, was donated to a women’s shelter, and I began moving things around to open up my small and cramped sewing nook. Years ago I had a small armchair in the space, which got removed when I added a trunk I refinished ( ericas-heirloom-treasures/a-place-for-everything-in-1947). My husband often sat in that chair when visiting with me while I worked in my sewing room and I was inspired to move Kay’s painted chair to the spot where it fit nicely. However, the artwork I had on the wall clashed rather badly with Kay’s painted chair, so I began moving art around. This is not an uncommon occurrence mind you. For those of you familiar with children’s books, it’s a bit of ‘when you give a mouse a cookie” situation.
Tucked in the back of my sewing nook is a painting I have had hanging for many years, a charming still life of a vase of flowers done by my son. When that son was born 33 years ago, he spent a month in ICU due to a severe crisis at birth. Thankfully he survived unscathed, though for 4 or 5 years after, the doctors tracked his development. At one point he underwent multi-day testing at Northwestern University for his school-readiness, determining he was ‘dyslexic’ though that word was out of favor. As both my father and I had struggled with dyslexia (Dad’s was diagnosed, mine was not) it was not clear this was caused by his early birth crisis. However, I will forever be grateful to a doctor who suggested finding him some other art form to help him express himself as words would not be his strength. I enrolled him in guitar lessons until he ended up getting electrocuted (long story but again he managed to survive unscathed). And, at one point during his elementary years, I had him take an art camp at a local art center. Art, and later photography, became a passion for him, and I framed and saved many of his works.
This little painting, done at that art camp, I have treasured. It reminds me that even through difficulties flowers will bloom, and life will work out, which it has for him. When the lovely painted chair moved to my sewing space, I relocated the flower painting and was astonished by how complimentary the two pieces are. The serendipity of the two works meeting makes me smile every time I enter my (new) open sewing space.
