"Artists don't make objects
Artists make mythologies" - Anish Kapoor
I wake up from a strange dream.
I was swimming hard upstream, against the current. There were many other fish swimming like me. All trying too hard, sometimes pushed back way behind to start all over, some landing somewhere with a loud thud.
Yet, their shimmering bodies glisten with the moonbeams. Sun rays make rainbows. I am enchanted.
I am exhausted. My throat is dry. A gush of water like a huge waterfall, frightening, yet my only quench of thirst wakes me up.
I get a drink of water. Analyzing my dream I came to the conclusion that I was probably worked up inside, thinking how to survive in this home business. How are we going to pay the huge medical insurance when it will soon be all on us. Where would I sell my jewelry. If I don't sell them how will I carry on with this passion?
Then also I felt so small the other day when I went to see the Art fair last weekend. Am I there yet?
I try to think of my style. I want it to manifest itself. I don't want to stamp a brand too hard. No, I never feel satisfied working from a given pattern or kits. I mish mash many ideas, inspirations, experiments and come up with my own hodge podge.
Looking deeper I see that it has a trace of past - my style, I mean. Memories of my mother's, aunts', even grandma's jewelry- that have the touch of antique India in them.
Then it is mixed with wire work, recently learned, bead chips, Bohemian and Czech glasses, swarovski crystals, all that I take from the new age and the new world.
We have come such a long way- I was thinking as I had been crimping the last bead for my necklace the other day. I name this necklace- Mythology
I wanted to make this necklace piece to go with my Chevron danglers.
It shook me up. The story of the Chevron bead- that it used to be traded to buy slaves.
Then strangely yesterday I came across an interesting article, flipping through an old Bead and Button magazine. Here, Melody Mc. Duffy, an American beader is writing about her experience in Ghana where Krobo beads are made.
Of course the Africans villagers did not greet her with open arms in the beginning. It started with a lot of suspicion and doubt but gradually the spirit of Art brought them together and from a common interest of beading they shared their passion, knowledge and helped each other. The Soul of Somanya was born. Visit www.soulofsomanya.org to know more or help in this project.
