Light, Air, Satisfaction

It’s interesting that we now have to be able to speak to people in other rooms while we chop vegetables. Prep, by the way is what it’s called.

There was a dark period in our recent history during which in order to speak to someone who happened to be in your house you were required to relocate to whatever room that person was in. This was inevitably a conversation which needed to take place while you were chopping vegetables (or prep) and they were having a nice glass of wine. Thankfully we have discarded this grim ritual and consigned it to the polished stainless steel trash can of spatial dynamics history.

I, as head vegetable chopper, need to be involved, capable of seeing and speaking to people who happen to be in my house albeit another location in my house, a location which is remote from where the pivotal task of vegetable chopping is being carried out.

Not only does the space have to capable of accommodating such interfacing but it must also be light and airy. We must all commune in light, airy spaces. This is the most fundamental prerequisite of modern living. This and a shared hatred of china figurines and woodchip wallpaper. You must insist upon lightness and airiness as a minimum, a threshold level of sensibility.

It is up to yourself at this point if you want to go on to develop an appreciation for feature walls, textured wall coverings, exposed beams or polished concrete floors. These are optional extras for the particularly discerning.

Not being versed in these areas will not preclude you from getting into the party in the first place but be warned that your ignorance of them will certainly lead to a few awkward silences while you’re there. No, the host will only seek to validate your light and airy credentials on the way in but do yourself a favour and avoid a minefield of potential faux pas by at least learning a few salient points about radiant heating beforehand.

It is also important to understand the concept of flow and how one space relates to another space. You may be likely to overhear something like “there is a very pure, organic relationship between these two spaces which is important in preserving the flow and allowing you to sit and have a nice glass of wine and read a book while having a conversation with whoever is in the kitchen and enjoy uninterrupted views to the garden. In fact the glazing along this wall has the effect of bringing the outside in. Don’t you think?”

There can be no doubt upon hearing something like this that you are in the presence of people whose virtues are beyond reproach. They want to involve whoever is doing the donkey work in the kitchen and not make them feel isolated. This means they are caring, considerate and compassionate. They are quaffing fine wine while reading a book. This means they are educated, urbane, sophisticated and intelligent. They want to gaze upon the garden, they love nature and appreciate the great outdoors. This means they are gentle, conscientious and contemplative.

And you look around and acknowledge the ease with which the space is accommodating the sixty people who have been invited for the grand unveiling. Sixty people who will never again find themselves in the same parish, never mind the same room.

And as you fondle the velvet curtains or snort a scented candle you begin to tabulate in your head all the ways your life sucks. How these paragons of virtue and incontrovertible taste have brought your inadequacies into focus. Your naked bayonet light bulbs, oil fired radiators, formica worktop, laminate flooring, carpet, eight foot ceilings, under counter fridge, super ser. A super ser for fuck’s sake.

You quietly put down your glass on the soapstone mantle piece, retrieve your coat, slip unnoticed out the front door and stumble sobbing towards the bus stop.