"Imagine yourself on a winter afternoon with a pot of tea, a book, a reading light, and two or three huge pillows to lean back against. Now make yourself comfortable. Not in some way which you can show to other people, and say how much you like it. I mean so that you really like it, for yourself. You put the tea where you can reach it: but in a place where you can't possibly knock it over. You pull the light down, to shine on the book, but not too brightly, and so that you can't see the naked bulb. You put the cushions behind you, and place them, carefully, one by one, just where you want them, to support your back, your neck, your arm: so that you are supported just comfortably, just as you want to sip your tea, and read, and dream." (Christopher Alexander, The Timeless Way of Building (New York: Oxford Univeristy Press, 1979), pp. 32-33)

I've been reading about the idea of Comfort and Home recently in Home - A Short History of an Idea by Witold Rybcynski, a book my brother-in-law gave to me at Christmas. He quotes Christopher Alexander, the architect who wrote A Pattern Language as well as The Timeless Way. These books talk about patterns of ease and comfort and useability and beauty, not only in how homes are built but in how entire cities could be built. He presents various problems, then the solutions in a way that brings ease and beauty into people's everyday lives. For example, one of the problems is that in a household shared by a couple there may not be much opportunity for solitude or privacy for each individual. He addresses this by talking of ways of bringing private spaces into a home for each individual - perhaps just a corner, or an alcove, or even a room where a person can feed their own soul through their own pursuits before returning to common areas in the house. It's such a beautiful and dignified way to talk about architecture, but also, about people living in and using everyday spaces. Sarah Susanka, an architect who talks about "building better, not bigger", based her Not So Big Movement on Alexander's work.

I'm thinking of ways to make my own space more comfortable - a space where I feel I easily belong and feel connected to. We moved into our 1958 bungalow two years ago and we haven't done much to the place yet. My husband built a closet near our side door (which we tend to use more than the front door since it comes off the driveway), and we've pulled up some grungy 1970s carpet that was in the basement - that's about it. There are things we have in mind - some are large (entirely taking down a giant non-functioning chimney structure that takes up half the living room) and some are smaller (a patio door to the back garden) with everything in between. I'm hoping we can make changes slowly and purposefully, all the while being guided by patterns of comfort and beauty.

The picture above (I'm sorry! I can't remember where it's from!) really jumps out to me as an example of comfort. It might not to everyone, but to me I just sigh with contentment looking at it. Not because it's visually simple, or fairly monochromatic. But because the wood and linen and wool just scream "comfort" and "warmth" and "rest" to me. It's not necessarily in that particular chair, or that particular colour, but it certainly is in the touchability of the picture - I can imagine the soft pillow, the nubbiness of the embroidery, the scratchy warmth of the wool, the smoothness and strength of the wood. All textures, all homey.