As the summer sun sets outside my apartment before I turn the key to enter, I contemplate its warmth and am reminded of summers past. When I was younger, I would sit with my siblings on the patio on the patio cushioned by weathered pillows on wicker furniture. It was never our furniture–it belonged to a grandparent, aunt or uncle–and that makes the memory all the more special. Woven furniture fascinates me. I’ve always traced the surface with my fingers and imagined the craftsman at work methodically sculpting its form from bundles of reeds. These fibers create such an interesting texture–like rolling hills. The best wicker chair is one perfectly worn–not so new that it’s uncomfortable but still sturdy enough that you won’t fall…