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MARIAGE LA

 _ 2013_ Silk_

Another beautiful day in Kona, Hawaii.  What could be bad?  (Answer:  Nothing)

A calm breeze wafted through the open lobby of the hotel which had a splendid view out to the Ocean and I could hear the waves crashing up against the shore.  I grabbed some water in the lobby,  stuck it into my bag that included a wooden tjap which I'd picked up on an island off the coast of Ecuador a short time earlier, and jumped into my mud-covered rental which I'd unceremoniously driven through washed out roads through the center of the island on a previous day of photographic exploration.  I programmed my GPS to locate the home of Deborah, the host for the workshop.  I was excited. 

When I arrived, I was greeted by several hens running through her front yard in and out of the bushes. They didn't have a care in the world.  Neither did I.  I still had work to do on my red-footed booby,  a reminder of my time in the Galapagos.  Every science major,  every person I believe,  has heard of the Galapagos Islands,  and of course the blue-footed booby.  But how many have heard about the cousin, the red-footed?  I hadn't!  And I was determined to change that and propel the red foot and give him his due by memorializing him in a painting.  I loved the way he looked in silk with the rich deep saturation of color he was glorious.  The workshop was worth it for that alone!  

What I had not counted on was having time for a second piece.  Unlike oils where I can be wild and free when I paint,  the silk required a good deal of planning and precision.  (The other side of me would have to show herself!)  You had to know about the resist the gutta and you had to think ahead -- if not,  you couldn't go back and replace that blue with yellow.  You can not fix a multitude of color errors the way you can with oils or acrylics. So the booby had been planned in advance of the workshop.  I even did a rudimentary drawing (While studying my own photos of the bird taken on my last adventure) and I did all that in advance of the workshop and when I got there I was raring to go.  But when I finished with the booby and was told to start a second piece -- i was at a loss.  The workshop leader looked at me as I sat there staring at the white silk on my stretcher bars - frozen and confused.  

"Is something wrong?"

"Sort of," I replied.  "I don't know what to do."

"Just draw something.  Anything," were the instructions.  

I looked up and responded,  "But,  . . . I don't know how to draw."

So I sat there for a moment longer, staring alternately at the white silk in front of me and then at the chickens running around in the yard just beyond the patio where the workshop attendees were all busy with their own designs. None of them seemed to have my same predicament.  In the back of my mind was the upcoming nuptials of a family member, so the idea of "twos" kept at me.  And I looked at my tjap,  the one with a primitive design of a turtle that I'd found so charming.  I was only planning to bring back my photos and my memories from that particular adventure,  but the tjap reminded me of the dive,  the one that almost landed me in hot water!  I'd seen this magnificent sea turtle swimming by while snorkeling with a group.  We were supposed to be paired up, and I had been paired with a nice older gentleman.   I seem to recall that his name was Norman.  He was elated!  We were supposed to stay close to our buddy.  But while Norman was busy shooting underwater photographs of one thing or another,  this massive turtle caught my eye and mesmerized me.  Stroke,  Stroke,  Stroke,  as he slowly and confidently brushed by me.  He seemed unplussed by this giant sea lion in the black wetsuit with a human head, a GoPro strapped to my forehead.  I was so in awe, I forgot all about Norman -- not to mention turning the GoPro to "go" - and headed out in pursuit of the turtle. . . breast stroke,  stroke,  stroke,  off I went into the deep blue,  breast stroke,  leisurely stroke,  mesmerizing stroke,  . . . . I can't say exactly how long I was out there, in the middle of the Ocean, moving further and further away from Norman . . .  stroking along without a care in the World.  All I know is that suddenly,  I was miles offshore,  alone in the vast Ocean, the sea turtle pulling away as my arms started to fatigue, and the drop boat a little black dot off in the distance.  So I started to head back in the direction of the black dot.  Norman was nowhere in sight and neither were any of the other divers.  What WAS in sight however,  was a huge shadow directly underneath me.  A whale, i thought,  a little surprised when I suddenly noticed it blocking view of the other fish of which (fortunately) there were many.  But as I turned my head,  I realized that this was no whale.  It was in fact a shark.  (NOT on my bucket list!)  I immediately surfaced,  too afraid to look down,  and estimated the distance to the dive boat, still just a small dot in the distance.  I would have cursed the turtle for luring me unsuspecting all this way,  but there was no time for that.  

Well,  I am here.  I am writing this story.  So obviously the shark was well fed and I did not need to resort to anything like punching him in the nose to send him packing (I saw that once on some shark documentary - what to do if approached by a hungry shark. NOT the way I want to go.  But if it had come to that,  though I am a huge animal lover,  you'd better believe that I would have punched away)

Anyway,  when I saw the turtle tjap, it made me smile, reminding me of my escape from being devoured by a wo-man eating shark. And I purchased that tjap and - just in case - had brought it with me to Kona. 

The turtle was primitive, so the image matched my inability to draw anything at all,  and I started sketching out pairs.  And the head of the workshop came by and shook his head at my primitive drawing.  (I suppose he realized I was telling him the truth.  I don't know how to draw!)  But then I started to add color and voilà things started to gel.  And when the head of the workshop walked by a second time, he stared at what I had titled MARIAGE LA and smiled.  

"Wow! Didn't expect that!  It really is lovely."

"Yeh, right?!" I replied,  myself delighted with how it was turning out.  "Color compensates for a whole multitude of sins, including inability to draw!"

He laughed and so did I. 

Post-script: 

Somewhere (still in my possession) is the original.  It's lovely!  And I had three reproductions done - one in cloth and two on steel.  The steel ones I had encased in glass, got a fabricator to drill four fastening holes,  custom made a set of handles and turned them into serving pieces.  The cloth I brought into Hollywood, where I found a costume maker from the film industry with some serious chops working with all sorts of materials.  I had her quilt the cloth in an array of vibrant colors, turning it into a cover. The cover and one of the trays became a wedding gift, hence the title (from the Portuguese),  MARIAGE LA.    

*  Original Not For Sale at this Time (because I'm not certain where exactly it is!) *