My Marrakesh

Peacock Pavilions: and signs of spring

She was worried about being a mother.
She was worried that she wouldn't know how to care for them.
How to protect them.

She was worried about what her in-laws would say, what her neighbors would say.
How they would tsk-tsk over her moments of forgetfulness.

She was worried that anything, anything, could happen at any time.
And she would be held responsible.

But in between her worries, she had those flashes
of anticipation....
of their upturned faces, of their baby smell,
that mixture of
black shining eyes and freshly mown grass ....

Oh, the blossomy air.......

Zagora: and a desert tale

Did they ever make it to the Sahara desert, you wonder?  Oh ye of little faith, of course they did.  There were a few detours along the way. (Aren't there always?)  But in the end, there was sand in their hair, sand in their pockets, and shhhh...... sand in their underwear.

But let's back up and start at the beginning.... 

A man in blue wearing a turban (yes, a real turban) who spoke  none of the 8 languages that they collectively spoke, motioned to the group that they were to follow him.  They did as they were told -- they were very polite.

They stopped for victuals of dubious quality along the way and met a genuine nomad (the fake kind just wouldn't do). His purple turban was divine and he wore the most remarkable footwear. Wouldn't you agree?

Frankly, their own footwear paled in comparison. 

They drove and drove and drove.  And then they stopped.  They had arrived in the Sahara desert.  There were real tents.  Well, sort of,  anyway.

Their Czech friend with a multi- sylabic name decided to dress like a desert bedouin.  She looked most charming.   

They unpacked and made themselves at home in the Sahara desert.  There was no electricity or running water.  (Well, of course there wasn't.  What kind of wussy desert dwellers did you think they were, anyway?)  It was soon time to conquer the dunes. The blogging girl peered at the path before her.  Oh my, very high.

Mothers slathered sunburn protection on now-bedouin children, and they all set off with enthusiasm.

They climbed up and up, huffing and puffing but pretending they were all in frightfully good shape.  Then they ran down and down, making loud, foolish whooping sounds, limbs flailing. 

Just before the sun set, they uncorked and made a toast:  To the Sahara desert!  they cried.   clink, clink.

Then they lay back on the most comfortable pillows.  Sand was everywhere.

....and all was right with the universe somewhere in the Sahara desert. 

The Sahara Desert: and let the dunes begin....

The six-year old girl's card to her grandfather was simple and straight to the point:

Dear Grandpa Joel,
I feel happy you are coming to Marrakech.  We are going to go into the Sahara desert!  We are going to ride real camels! We are going to sleep in real tents!  We are going to have fun!

xxoo,
Skylar

See you back here on Sunday.  I anticipate tales of runaway camels and runaway sunburn.    oh dear

Image by Dan Laskowski.

Marrakech: and the Leica D-Lux 3

She found that her camera had secret powers......It could see in the dark....

P.S.  Hungry?  The world's most beautiful breakfast right here. 

Marrakech: and the Leica D-Lux 3

What did Santa give me this year for Christmas, you wonder?

ooooh goodie, the Leica D-LUX 3.

Or perhaps it is the Leica D-LICIOUS 4.........
Or the Leica D-LIGHTFUL 5........

Hmmm.... glad Santa wasn't looking when I was being naughty.......

P.S. Do take a peek at a vintage Moroccan wedding blanket that I sent to Mary in Australia here.  The fashion editor from a famous media outlet just contacted me for one, too.:-)  I sell these - so pls do let me know if you would like one for yourself or someone you are especially fond of.

The muse goes Danish....

oh I literally almost fell off my chair when I saw this.  Look at what my Norwegian friend Katarina has made (with her own two bare hands.......!).  Why it's my muse.  How very perfect. And perfectly matched with the black ticking fabric.

And she has also made this bag with yet another Lehnert print.....

Why, oh why, don't I know how to make anything beautiful and useful?  I don't cook well.  I don't sew....at all, I don't knit....at all.  Hopeless.......

Moroccan Slippers just for you......?

Dear Friends,

I was so very touched by all your support and encouraging words in comments and emails about the Peacock Pavilions Shop.  Thank you or Shoukran.  It means so much to me.  I can't even begin to tell you how excited I am about it all.....

I will be traveling to the US on business the week after next and wanted to see if I could bring a little Marrakesh into your homes, particularly for those who are not planning to come to Morocco any time soon.  For those living in the US or Canada, I wanted to offer leather Moroccan slippers for sale, much like the ones shown here.  Deliciously soft and rather glamorous, they are perfect to lounge around the house in or to wear for your dinner parties at home.  They also are all entirely handmade - a simple luxury in today's manufactured world. 

A pair for you or your wife?  For your sister?  Or perhaps your mother or mother-in-law?  So pretty and exotic -- they make for such memorable Christmas gifts, too.

If you are interested, please do email me [maryam at mtds.com] for pricing.  I would then pick the slippers out myself in your favorite color and size. The white is beautiful and the deep peony pink is also lovely but many other colors are available, too (red, black, orange, several blues....and more!).  Since I will be sending them from the US, you would save on shipping.

But act quickly, because I am leaving soon........!

Fond wishes,

Maryam in Marrakech

Nick Bantock's collaged Morocco

The brilliant and hilarious Persephone (How can you not fall for a girl with that name?) of the blog , What Possessed Me, dropped me line about Nick Bantock's new collage work. 

When I was young and still impressionable (she says, pretending things have changed), I was enchanted by his Griffin and Sabine books.  They were very Narnia in a love story-y kind of way.  I remember the clever interactivity of the books, with all kinds of letters tucked into collaged envelopes that could be pulled out and read.  Oh, the romance, the intrigue, the craft...My young heart hoped it would never end...

Well, ahem, it seems that Nick Bantock is all grown up now and has moved onto naked women of the lovely variety.  Rather Lehnert & Landrock inspired, Bantock's collages are said to be based on postcards from Algeria, Tunisia and Morocco and represent Nick’s fascination with turn of the century North Africa. Layered with varnish, bees wax or transparent film it is often difficult to see exactly how these unusual pieces have been created.

But perhaps you would like to see for yourself........?

See the rest of Nick Bantock's North African collages right here.

Morocco: and visual journaling

To visit Morocco here and there,  to see it with fresh eyes. 

To record it so you won't forget, as memories cloud and dim. 

A pouch of pencils in your purse, a notebook in your hand. 

And in the drawer will lie the door, to the place from once you went.

Images from Victoria Vreeland's visual journal on Morocco.