Monday, May 18, 2009
It's therapeutic. JFK had a bad back from a war injury, and had rockers everywhere he went, even on Air Force One. I imagine him reading the papers of state, or reading a story to his children, or just gazing at the Atlantic off Hyannis. The rocker is perfect for work (the laptop fits just right, the arms are wide enough to hold a notebook or a pad of paper) and for pleasure (I swear the view of the water can heal dyspepsia, not to mention despair) and for nostalgia (if looking back at Maine from just a couple of days' distance can properly be called nostalgic).
Sofas and soft chairs are no good for what ails our heads. Bodies, yes, but the healing of the mind requires an upright stance and gentle movement, the back and forth of emotion and remembrance. The rocker seems to force honesty, and courage. In profile, it proclaims peacefulness. Occupied, it gives energy.
It's also easy to get up from when you're stuck in cliche and need to wander around, look out all the windows, make some tea, stoke the fire, read the dictionary. Then it calls you back.