It has been over a year and, one day, I might write about the time spent away, but for now I am happy to share the beginnings of a new project being undertaken by an inspirational friend of mine. The space in which this story starts has held many stories before this one,
but before very long, here, as you step through the door, your senses will be greeted by the familiar, intoxicating (and yet, surprisingly, still little known) world of all that is cocoa and chocolate.
It seems fitting that these walls will hold history, process and the magic of artisans learned over centuries, whilst providing a special space for everyone to relax learn, unwind, share and enjoy.
I have been very fortunate to be present at the beginning of several of my friend's projects and so look forward to seeing where this one will transport us all.
Eternally grateful to Blue Peter and having, for many years,
bemoaned the fact that some artisans refuse to make
displays for their work, I truly believed that this would be
a doddle. (The original idea of a beautifully carved
showcase had evaporated as fast as T could make it to
the garden).
Undeterred, the empty cardboard box beckoned,
accompanied by a 'eureka' moment!
Starting early (and envisioning completion within an hour or
two), things began to unravel around lunchtime. By 3p.m.
the glue was still drying and it was obvious some 'minor'
adjustments were necessary.
It is now 5p.m. the glue is still wet and I am drinking the
last of the wine.
In my mind I am diving down as deep as I can into the darkest depths of crimson damask, weighted with multitudinous froths of lace edged petticoats, breathing heady, smuggled, 18th Century Fragonard inspired scents of rose, jasmine and vetiver combined with the heat, sweat and dust of the Caribbean. I am still searching for the music that I know she danced to. I sink into the myth and magic of whispered tales from long ago.
Rarely do we get to watch art or craft programs on television.
T subscribes to the sports channels, being an avid cricket and
football fan and we have a basic package that brings us various
'reality' TV shows, CNN, God, cartoons, local 'news' and
advertisements that exhort us to purchase products unavailable
here. However, currently showing on Channel 44, PBS, is Craft in America. Wonderful. Catch it while you can!
One never knows when our cable provider will decide we
have seen enough and take it off without warning, as recently
experienced with the final episode of Survivor Philippines!
During a recent downpour a 'boli' came floating down the drain. T, knowing
a gift when he sees one, brought it home for me. Having been at a bit
of a loose end all morning the unexpected arrival of a 'found thing'
lifted my spirits no end. Not being able to find my hack saw, T's
electric jigsaw came to mind. Having drawn the circle I wanted to cut
and made the initial incision into which to slide the blade , cutting
the hole was a piece of cake. The boli must have been adrift for a while
as the exposed innards were a black mush. I meant to take a photograph
of this stage but they didn't smell too good and I was a bit hasty in
disposing of them, jettisoning them from out of the studio window to a
shady spot where hopefully the seeds will sprout.(More likely than it
sounds, most everything pelted from a window seems to grow, - lime
pips,avocadoseeds, papaya,blackeyepeas,passion fruit- all have sprung
happily to life from where they have landed, as opposed to all carefully
cultured and nurtured attempts which, more often than not, fail
miserably.) I digress. The inside of the shell needed a good scrape with
a spoon and then it sat in a sink of full of water with a bit of bleach
overnight. I'd been reading about the Amazon recently and with this in
mind and the tribal connections to river and Anaconda, the design took
shape. A friend had given me some lino cutting tools a while
ago,(lino.... does it still exist?) and they worked well, providing
texture and preventing me from being too careful and precious. This took
most of the day, such fun and I was pleased with how it came out,
especially the negative space which I hadn't thought about at all. The
idea was to make a salt holder, one that requires putting your hand
into the mouth of the beast. On reflection, I wasn't too sure how T would react to
this. There are no poisonous varieties in Grenada but historically, Grenadians do not like serpents. Over time, we have come to an understanding, regarding all those
that slither on their bellies.T is now able to resist the urge to exterminate them on sight and I am able to not be so dismissive about his cultural feelings towards them.
Now all that is required is to sand it and let it sit a while so it can tell me whether to paint it some, add shells, seeds, beads or just let the natural patina develop as it dries and matures. T likes it.
Having completed our monthly trip to town to pay bills, the heat got the better of me.We found a shady kerbstone and there, on the other side of the street, was this building. It is half way up St John Street on the left hand side. I wondered all the usual questions..... how old it is, who built it , who lived there, who designed and made the fancy facing board, who sat on the veranda, who sold what downstairs, what does it look like inside? The building held on to all secrets and T was getting irritated, so we made our way down the hill to the bus terminal and went home. If you know, please tell...........
