Round, rough and irregular.
Cork sea floats have always been used to buoy up fishing nets.
Now they stand proud on a tall glass case, a noble sculpture in my living room.
I live in St. Feliu de Guixols, last southern outpost of the Baix Empordà in the Costa Brava. It is a place I love for its present and its past. For its naval and fishing history and for its history regarding cork.
(The cork industry was one of the principle factors in the development of the region during the 18th and 19th centuries – particularly the mass production of wine corks – as can been seen in the Museum of Palafrugell, just a stone’s throw away from here).
The area still produces corks but they are likely only to grace the finest Chateau Latour bottles of wine.
And if such wine were shipped to England in the eighteenth century, it would have been on majestic ships such as those from St. Feliu.
The port was then the centre of Northern Spanish naval operations and had a fishing and merchant fleet of no less than one hundred vessels.
My cork sea floats, arranged neatly in their three lines, communicate exactly what I try to achieve in design: harmony, sensuality and functionality.
When I look at them, I want to touch them, run my fingers along them, feeling for their rough but vital imperfections.
When I look at them, I see how they complement each other in their unevenness and irregularity of texture and colour, yet forming a unified sculpture enriched by history.
When I look at them, I feel that they are made to be admired, made to be touched and made to be here.
My name is Sonia, interior designer with twenty years of experience and this is my first blog entry.
I invite you to follow me and to discover each month the harmonies of sensuality, sensitivity and functionality that inspire me…