My wife and I went to Ikea today. I agreed to let her buy a few things off of my to do list; a dresser, shelving, curtains, etc. Things that have been on my list for years, and are no closer to being started now than they were when the list was made. Lately I've gotten to the point where my time is more valuable than my self respect. What, with twin 4 year olds, a newborn, a new job started earlier this year, and a part time teaching gig that just started this week, I feel about as thin as the shavings from my favorite Japanese hand plane. I miss my favorite Japanese hand plane...
I love Ikea. We walked through there like kids in a candy store. We are both trained as architects (small "a", no licenses...), and love good design almost as much as we love to ridicule bad design (really, that's not as arrogant as it sounds...). Ikea is filled with both. Mostly, it's filled with interesting solutions to the problem of Life. I look at unique, pre-packaged furniture, and see a bright office filled with Designers, pouring all of their creative energies into the Everyday. Spending endless hours redrawing details in an attempt to maximize aesthetics, ergonimics, and efficiency.
I'd bet that they have never even touched their own creations. If they did I'm sure these Designers would be disgusted by the flimsy pressboard doors, the sloppy fit of the prefab drawer sides. It's a stark contrast between attention to detail and inattention to material.
I see the throngs of people pushing carts stacked full of prepackaged uniqueness, patiently debating with their significant other over the merits of an unfinished pinewood shelf, vs. a laminated paper shelf, vs. an exposed edge plywood shelf. Most visitors seem to appreciate the design work and the established prices, even as my wife and I discuss quality control or cost-to-build for each item. Even the children are enthralled by the experience, gleefully jumping on an endless row of mattresses or hiding in the thin cloth of the curtain display.
We walked the meandering aisles of Ikea for nearly 4 hours, emerging from the sensory deprivation of the Big Box shortly after dark, and well past dinnertime. We quickly loaded our loot into the back of The Big Red Minivan, grabbed some fast food, and headed for home. All told, we spent $16.22 at Ikea today. We got a pair of plastic storage bins that just happen to fit perfectly in the kids' toy storage shelving unit that I built last year, and a few throw pillows that were on sale. That doesn't count 2 cups of coffee, 2 chocolate milk cartons, 1 piece of chocolate cake, and 1 ice cream cone shared by 4 of us. (The newborn opted out of all of the treats, but did enjoy a few ounces from the ol' bottle.)
Having left for the store with the best intentions of making my life easier, we have somehow added a few new ideas to my to do list. My wife has kindly offered to review the list, to help me re-prioritize my assigned tasks. She has even offered to minimize complaints if I were to actually spend some time in the shop. Now that the twins are old enough to "help daddy" in the shop (they know the difference between flat head and phillips, hammer and mallet, dovetail and finger joint, and many other tools and terms that make a father proud), all I would be missing is the pleasant conversation with my wife and the excited but clumsy smile of our newborn.
Sometimes, I miss the sense of accomplishment that comes with a finished project. Sometimes, I resent the sense of urgency that comes from an oversized to do list. Sometimes, I feel too schizophrenic to know what to do next. And sometimes, I try to look around as a simple observer, to absorb what I can, and try not to worry about what else I'm supposed to be doing. Like sleeping; right now I'm supposed to be sleeping.
-MJ