The last time I saw my futon was, I think, early last year when I temporarily removed from storage all my bits and pieces before dispensing with three-quarters and putting the remainder, minus futon, back into storage. Prior to that, the last time I had slept on my own bed was late 2004, almost five years ago, before I went to the Taipei Artists’ Village in Taiwan. In fact, looking back through my blog to find out when I left, it was mid-October, earlier than I thought, so give or take a week or so, it’s been five years since I had my own bed.
My perfect bed is a four inch thick futon, filled with natural fibre, and wrapped in thick white cotton or linen sheets, with duvet and pillows similarly avoiding synthetic materials. I am, of course, going to spend much of my life in this place, so tend towards a particular strain of ascetic hedonism. Yet to procure, are thin tatami mats, as I also enjoy sleeping close to the floor, but having spent a wincingly large amount of euros on such an austere bed, I may have to wait a little before fulfilling my somnolent indulgence.
Panda however, is profoundly happy after all this time to have acres of white to snooze in, though wonders where the bamboo is, will it snow soon, is it time for a snooze … ?