Dave

In 'The Book of Dave', and the exact same thing has happened to me, Dave sees a sign for a 'Giant Golf Sale'. As I am sure all would feel inclined to do, both of us were intrigued and headed toward the 'Giant Golf Sale'. Unfortunately on arrival we were met by display cabinets and shelves filled with miniature golf clubs and other tiny golfing tackle. Anyone could understand the disappointment in being duped by toyist falsity. Mos of my adult life has been a largely futile hunt for authenticity. Seldom have I found it. Indeed, my initial interest in furniture was sparked not by the antique or a nostalgia for times when things weren't so scary nor by any study of the topography of the living room. Yes, in recent years, in attempts to negotiate expeditions around  the house I have drawn up complex maps which I study before my journeys begin. These adventures in to the wilderness can take many weeks, often having to make camp under the dining table or hold up in the wardrobe, sitting out carpet dust storms and other freak domestic meteorological conditions. The detritus left from these journeys, like the Everest mountaineers garbage mountain is often mistaken for fly tipping, an activity few condone. No, neither history nor geography was my inspiration. I saw in the early work of designer makers an almost superhuman attention to detail. Often the works only became clear in the flesh, so well executed they seemed without flaws. All previous furniture I had seen had either signs of entropy in flaking polish or peeling veneers or in lower quality work , splits or unmet joints, even glue marks. These all give the game away. Tell tale signs that they are made. Signs of fakiery. Signs of toyism. Just as the action man sized doll I had as a child that caught the likeness of Lee Majors was not the real six million dollar man but a mere likeness, an efigy, a false idol, a toy. The best of the work was close to the truth found in trees, animals, almost authentic. In recent months I have noticed an increase in plasticity, an increase in toyism. I went a whole day where all I heard were cover versions of songs churned out by the X factory, none of them real, all toyist constructs. In these days of increased toyism I find it helpful to carry protective tools to assess the quality of ones surroundings and the objects one encounters. A block plane is handy to remove the outer layer of flat surfaces revealing the core substrate or truth within. Paint is the invisibility cloak of the toyist, it hides a multitude of sins.
For two months, three weeks and four days I have been stuck in my encampment. The stairs alone took several days to ascend. Carpet had been tacked down with steel pins to a timber core. The overhang of each tread presented a gravity problem for a climber like me with only basic skills. Fortunately I found that at either side of the carpet covering each riser fibres could be pulled and unravelled from the main body of the weave providing ropes for purchase. These should prove handy for my descent where I plan to abseil.