Eric's Metamorphosis

Fall break is next week and I will give a full digest of architectural happenings then. That is after I clear my thought-cicles. In less than a half hour, my Environmental Controls class will present, in small groups, our personal “Thermal Oasis”. This is a place where we feel in harmony with ourselves, and we must explain the architectural and thermal elements that make it so. Here is mine:

Hastens Bed

Comedian, actor, and musician Jamie Foxx once flowed, “Baby, if we leave the club, won’t be nothing but good lovin’, cause I got a warm bed.” The notion of the warm bed is cliché and familiar enough that it may be unabashedly used for the seduction of some potential lover met in a club. A combination of the implication that Foxx and the woman aren’t familiar with each other, understood via references in the song, and the calmative and tranquilizing hint of his intentions for the night, suggest that the warm bed enchants the masses who have experienced it.

For me, it’s not the laying down at night that charms me, which is probably undervalued. It’s the experience of a morning, typically on the weekends, and typically in the cooler months that constitute my thermal oasis. This involves a combination of things to make for a perfect warm bed experience. My face, as it remains uncovered, stays chilled, especially my nose. I can almost feel the cold draft rolling down from my inefficient windows. But for this moment, that’s just fine.

A down comforter on top and a feather bed under the fitted sheet are ideal for this situation. Running my hand over the sheets and subconsciously noting their appropriate thread count and the benefits of quality fabric softener and washing methods, my opiate receptors are engaged. While supreme comfort and tactile bliss are important, the surrounding elements are ideal in large part for their heat conduction. The natural materials – feathers and cotton – allow my swaddled self to breath, yet still retaining warmth that radiates back on my skin. I will often fish around my bed, eyes closed, for a new pillow. Fully chilled by the cold air and producing an ephemeral, yet delightful sensation with the heat of my face, the frigid pillow helps regulate my facial temperature.

These thermal properties, of course, are only part of the experience. My occasional ability to wake up sans alarm clock and with my body’s own volition is wonderful. With my translucent eyelids, I notice the effulgently gratifying light, peering between my blinds and reflecting infinitely on the white walls, ceiling, and duvet. And so the furious act of coming to is pacified. The global luminescence makes the room feel lighter, almost seeming to give the air more oxygen.

This is my thermal oasis. While it can only realistically last a few minutes, its effects will last all day. The sense of being coddled by my bed, like a good hug or a meaningful kiss, has a transitive power to induce day-long emotional inebriation.