This is a short description of three objects I have either found or bought in my specific location. A seed from a Jack Fruit, the star of my page for the Rough Guide. A swatch of fabric bought from one of the market stalls. And a photo of an artists work who practise's in Brixton, and whose glass fronted studio is inside the market.
Jack Fruit Seed.
The seed is rather large, and almond shaped, though bigger than an almond. It is a sandy colour, with tinges of green and a burnt sienna colour near the top end. At the top end, the skin has broken and a sprout has errupted from the gap. At first this sprout was a fresh green colour, like the smooth bean inside the skin, but now it is a very dark brown and rather shrivelled. The seed has been carted around with me so much, that it has been flattened by my sketchbook and is now a very funny shape and resembles a squished bug. It also has tissue paper marks, from where I wrapped it up whilst it was still covered in juice.
When I look at the seed I think of the lovely man who gave it to me. We were walking around the market, and we spotted a very odd looking fruit. It was larger than a water melon, and bumpy all over. Geraldine shouts out to the man, 'What type of fruit is this?'. To which he replies, 'It's a Jack Fruit! Do you want to try some'. So we go inside, and he asks us what country we are from... And seems a little shocked any of us are English. First, he had to wipe his knife with vegetable oil because the Jack Fruit stains metal, which I feel is a bit weird. He cuts it right down the middle, and exposes the inside of the fruit which looks a bit like a pineapple through a kailedoscope. He cuts it again into a little wedge (little in comparison to the rest of the fruit, but still pretty big) then pushes the skin forward so that the chunk splits itself into segments. Each of the segment reminds me of flower petals, and I think it has the same sort of texture, kind of rubbery. It tastes like a mixture of bannana and pineapple. To finish off, we then have to wash our hands in oil to make sure the sticky and sweet juices don't stain our fingers.
It also makes me imagine the tree. He told us it takes a hundred years to grow, and that one would never grow in England because it's far too cold. The trunk of the tree is huge, telling us it would fill his shop. I am intrigued to see this tree, and as himself and a customer (a lovely lady who told us we could also eat the seeds of the Jack Fruit by boiling them) were convincing us to go to Jamaica because its beautiful, I'm considering saving up.
The material is really light, and slips quite easily through your fingers. It always feels cold. The background colour is a striped grey, and on top, the patten is black and made up from lines forming diamonds. The pattern repeats on the fabric, and makes your eyes hurt if you look for too long.
Despite the material being only grey and black, it makes me think of vibrant colours. Another shop that sold fabric, more variety than the stall i bought this from, was full of frightfully bright, contrasting and clashing colours. It was just rows and rows and piles and piles of fabric folded. The images on the leaflets were of voluptuous dresses made from fabrics swamped by these already busy patterns.
It also makes me think of tradition. These are very traditional fabrics, being worn, I would expect in a very traditional way. I'm always a fan of tradition, so I really like the idea that these fabrics are still being worn and appreciated. They also make me think rich. These fabrics are lavish and expensive, and reserved for special occasions. And there is a sense of occasion in the shop, it seems to be a family day out when people go to buy the fabrics.
An artists shop, with paper dresses in the window.
The dresses were made of old yellowing maps, folded into little triangles and squares and pieced together to make one delicious and long dress trailing along the ground. Another odd shape hangs in the window beside it, which looks a bit like a cage or a claw. This time the shape is made out of old newspapers, twisted and folded to become stiff.Despite the material being only grey and black, it makes me think of vibrant colours. Another shop that sold fabric, more variety than the stall i bought this from, was full of frightfully bright, contrasting and clashing colours. It was just rows and rows and piles and piles of fabric folded. The images on the leaflets were of voluptuous dresses made from fabrics swamped by these already busy patterns.
It also makes me think of tradition. These are very traditional fabrics, being worn, I would expect in a very traditional way. I'm always a fan of tradition, so I really like the idea that these fabrics are still being worn and appreciated. They also make me think rich. These fabrics are lavish and expensive, and reserved for special occasions. And there is a sense of occasion in the shop, it seems to be a family day out when people go to buy the fabrics.
An artists shop, with paper dresses in the window.
These remind me of little origami animals stitched together to make a confusing and intricate web, emphasised by the scribbles on the map and the minute writing on the old newspapers. They are really crispy looking.
They also remind me of the open day I went to at lcf. Foundation students first project is to make a dress out of paper, and in my old A level class our first project was to make paper hats.
I love the way the shop/studio looks (I never saw it open but Geraldine informs me the woman was in there sewing away). It's pretty much empty, and I saw it quite late in the day, it looked greyish and dusty, like the dresses. Despite being glass fronted, the roofed market doesn't permit much light through the windows, and it looks a bit like an old attic. It's a little creepy, in a very good way, I like it.
(photos to follow)
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