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.
Today, the last day of naphopomo, began with a smile
whilst meeting up with a best friend and reading the
names of the boats at the fish market.
'Doggy Style' caught my eye!
'T', having finished selling in town when we caught up with him,
was selling for other people and behind him, through the wire
fencing, I saw
another time, lives lived before on Melville Street.
It has been enjoyable, this daily posting of 'something'.
I have not always risen to the ocassion, but the naphopomo
challenge was interesting.
Our 'day to day' (isolated within a frame) spoke of inner
things that we were unaware of, attuned to a moment
that otherwise may have passed by, unnoticed. Thanks
again to Karen aka Chookooloonks who brought us all here , to this wonderful space where many lives,
lived in numerous places,that have been shared through a lens,
with lessons loved and learned, united creative souls
of many persuasions.
It takes a special kind of person to do this, a person
who can see beyond her own boundaries to embrace,
inspire and include one and all.
Much love Karen and thank you xxx
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.
Deep in the forest something stirred , broadcasting far and wide
a song for all who chose to hear. The call to return tugged hard
at a skirt hem, speaking of rewards for the soul.
With #naphopomo being all about photography month, I thought
I would 'try a thing' and experiment a little, while T transferred
some basil in the beds above the river.
Ever since Dad gave me a Brownie 127 when I was about 5,
I have always enjoyed taking photographs but I am not a
photographer. I like to play with composition, record people,
places and things that interest me and on occasion manage to
capture a special moment in time. With almost everyone having
a camera phone nowadays, it is even more fascinating to
observe what professional photographers achieve through their
lens. The magic worked in a dark room beneath a red light, the
alchemy between eye, camera, creativity and knowledge is
nowhere better seen than in the work of Lee Miller and then,
the contemporary work and delightful voice of Joann Verburg
cannot fail to inspire.
Last but not least and from the heart, thank you Chookooloonks .
I am truly enjoying this voyage of discovery which I would not
have embarked upon were it not for you.
First proofs drying, dough rising, sun shining. Finally
worked out why the first 2 photos for #naphopomo
failed to send and reset my security settings, I now
find all is getting a bit 'precious' and am second
guessing everything! Not going to be deterred though,
I really want to see this through.
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.
Coconut flower stalks, coconut flex, banana straw and raffia.
Between projects and a little out of sorts, I spied the bag of
booty I had brought down from Corn Buck a few weeks ago
and looked inside. Play, the doing of something for the sheer
pleasure of it, is a pastime that I have forgotten to indulge in.
Work is worthy, as is cleaning, cooking etc. but play, as with
sticks in mud or a stone skimmed, has somehow become
something that I find myself either never having the time for
or feeling guilty about.
The very word 'indulge' suggests a secret vice.
I was surprised to realise this about myself, surprised by how
serious and earnest I had become about 'the work' and even
more surprised by the fact that I was surprised that the flow
of creativity had dried up.
Being allowed to nose around in other peoples' work places
is one of my favourite pastimes. To be invited to peek into
a private, creative and intimate space of those artists I admire
is such a treat.
That is one of the many reasons I invite you to visit Jackie Morris
who is hosting "International Desk Day: or, nosing around other
peoples' spaces" on her blog. There, not only will you be able to
see her wonderful artwork, kittens, cats, bears, dragons and
home but also the delightful desks and work of others. You
can also join in the fun by posting your desk on your blog.
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.
I started working on some ideas for a still life painting this morning. I like planning things out in a sketchbook. Using watercolour and with no particular discipline or end result in mind at this stage, I usually stick on some music, (it was The Incredible String Band today) and dive in to see what happens. It's a lovely feeling, there is no pressure or expectation as the water and paint mingle freely. I am besotted with the combination of Paynes Grey and Burnt Sienna, oranges with crimson, deep blues and emerald green. El Diablito, who believes that my work table is his, came to see what was going on and lend a paw. I imagine he'll work his way into the painting too.
While BP is busy painting its' very own 'portrait in oils', and as worthy as the winners of the BP Portrait Awards no doubt are, please spare a thought for those artists who are doing their best to create a Ripple.
( with thanks to Surfrider for the wave photo)
I started working on some ideas for a still life painting this morning. I like planning things out in a sketchbook. Using watercolour and with no particular discipline or end result in mind at this stage, I usually stick on some music, (it was The Incredible String Band today) and dive in to see what happens. It's a lovely feeling, there is no pressure or expectation as the water and paint mingle freely. I am besotted with the combination of Paynes Grey and Burnt Sienna, oranges with crimson, deep blues and emerald green. El Diablito, who believes that my work table is his, came to see what was going on and lend a paw. I imagine he'll work his way into the painting too.
