As the deadline looms closer, I have become aware that I need to start thinking about composition. As I was making my pieces and after they had been fired, I gradually began to fully comprehend how heavy they are as a collective. I had origionally planned to have them all balancing on top of themselves in a spiral. However, I now realise that this will simply not work, as the bottom box will not be able to hold the weight of all the other drawers. I know that if I am to make a frame, it would need to add meaning to the piece, as it will inevitably become an integral part of the whole. As I was searching my mind for possibilities, my gaze fell upon this beautiful wooden chair. I felt that although it had been subdued into its form and smoothed and varnished, it still held many organic qualities. The shape was fluid and bowed and it was obviously constructed from wood. I liked how these factors contradicted one another; the taming of the wood but also its natural origins. The chair was also aged and torn, it felt abandoned and old. I envisioned (above) how the chair could be further manipulated to cradle my boxes and drawers, the ceramic and wood contrasting but also harmonising in their natural roots and tamed natures. I felt that this structure would also be seen as potentially precarious and unstable, requiring great feats of balance and care, when the drawers were added. This further heightens the messages of my concept which may not have been so apparent if the boxes had just been stacked upon each other. The wood also adds a closer link to the cabinets used in museums to store and catalogue insects. This helps I feel to bring out the qualities of a vintage study, the ordering and numbering of insects no longer alive. I also felt that the wooden chair frame would centre the piece and by using an everyday common place item, make the exhibit appear more familiar and inviting for the viewer to touch.