Originally, I had planned to support the shade with a rising brass pipe. To test the height, I temporarily placed a sofa leg that happened to be nearby and set the shade on top of it, leaving it that way for a while to observe.
When I finally replaced it with the finished brass pipe, something didn’t feel right. In fact, the accidentally used sofa leg felt far more fitting. Its block-like form — almost like a wooden toy — held a curious charm.
So I decided to embrace that form, born by chance, just as it was.
For the shade, I chose undyed cotton, spun by hand in a Laotian village using traditional methods. The humble wood base and the texture of the fabric overlap to create a distinctive world of their own.
Left unpainted, the wood reveals its grain and knots exactly as they are — no two pieces are alike. Within its simplicity lies a subtle edge, a quiet sharpness that gently yet firmly defines the space around it.
