Monday, April 27, 2009

A Berber goes to Venice (and other unwritten stories)

A Berber Goes to Venice

You know that I am having a blue revival, something for which I've been blaming New Zealand. No matter that I have just recently uncovered evidence that the combinations of blue and green also factored as a most favorite in my early years. Nevermind, I just want you to know that this magnetic blue attraction continues unabated and has even led me on a bit of a blue binge throughout the souks of Morocco.  

Take lapis lazuli, for instance. In its purest form, this semi-precious stone is a rich cobalt blue shot with gold iron pyrite and sometimes silvery inclusions. Found primarily in Afghanistan, it was so prized by the ancients that trecherous trade routes carried it over the backs of mountains and across burning deserts to grace the necks and hands of many a noble person. Occasionally I am noble-spirited so surely that means I should gather a few stones for myself? 

Unfortunately, my bare-faced color lust made for stiff bartering in the souks since I couldn't quite feign the disinterest which is part of the barter game. At my best, I look shocked at the opening price and stride away while the shop keeper lowers the price to manageable proportions. Bartering is an act as well as an art. But I digress. Where was I? Oh, yes, the lapis. Let me sum it up: me wants, me gets.

A world of wonders

So, home I came with my treasures, silver-encased lapis pendants, thick polished beads of the bluest of blue. I held them lovingly thinking of the history behind such a hue, of how it had been once powered down to paint that dabbed the richest color on many a master's canvas. How could I do them justice?

Much care needs to be granted to a necklace containing such gems, I thought, yet I really didn't have much that connected the elements. I did come across these Murano milleflori beads which had been given to me by a jewellry maker in Venice and mixed those elements up with yellow agate rounds found in Spain, tying the whole thing off with silk ribbons to keep the weight down and—voila, la necklace! And, the story of my travels encircle my neck, so it seems. Only this one's off to market.

I am calling it a Berber Goes to Venice, if only in my heart. The pendant is very much a Berber piece whereas the Venetian beads are so obviously the art of Murano. This makes me think of a novel where a young Berber tradesman arrives in Venice circa 1509, falls impossibly in love with a noble woman (who may or may not be a coutesian—the lines were thinly drawn in those days) thus straining the binds of both culture and heart. How romantic. Big Sigh. No, I don't plan to write such a thing but I feel like I've already read something similiar…

In the meantime, as much as I'd love to keep the Berber Goes to Venice to wear and remember, this little trader is off to put it up for sale.

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