Meandering in Place

Meandering in Place

Ellen Finan

 

Twelve thousand miles away on the Indian Ocean, jackfruit hung from trees, coconuts were grated into chutney, idlis swam in sambar and the air steamed everything and everyone in the hot South Indian sun. Covid 19 was far away. Planes bringing consulate people from Wuhan Province in China to my home in the Inland Empire caused only a blip of concern to my conscious mind mid-February 2020 as I worked on long tables in the Kerala sun, creating fabric resplendent in color and design.

 

I had signed up for an International Textile Workshop in Calicut at Tasara Beypore along with nine fiber people from around the world and several South Indian artists to experiment with surface design and tapestry weaving. Tasara, which means shuttle in Sanskrit, has been a weaving center since the 1970s and has drawn weavers and artists to its lush Eden-like grounds for residential programs. Days were long and full of outings to coconut oil and coil factories, tea and spice plantations, Hindu temple celebrations, visits to the river harbor and the sea, and city markets.  Our time was quite literally packed with movement here and there under the direction of Vasudevan Tasara, the director.

 

My trip had begun in Palm Springs in January, stopping in Boston for a few days, then resuming to Dubai on Emirates Airlines. Consciousness of the virus was more pronounced once we debarked in Dubai as most travelers now donned masks.  People seemed nervous and conversations were cut short. Eventually I arrived in Calicut, a hectic, overwhelming airport where people scuttled in every direction. My first impression of India was the cacophony of sound from every direction in every possible register. It was truly the antithesis of desert living where the wind was the source of most sounds.

For seven weeks I did not stop moving through a world of new sensations, thoughts, learnings, and friendships. Rich, wondrous, multilayered, confounding, and precious comprise my response to this environment where I met other artists, reporters, architects, textile designers, weavers, bloggers from California, a guru, a magician, environmentalists, entrepreneurs, and engineers. Kerala for the uninitiated possesses the highest level of education per capita in India. People are interesting and interested in ideas, people, and culture.

By the beginning of March, it was obvious that I needed to leave my Eden. Emails from home showed stores empty of toilet paper and basic supplies. Arriving in Boston where Covid19 had already made its landfall, I quickly realized I needed to get back to California. I drove to my sister’s in Connecticut and then onward the next day to JFK through Westchester County. Governor Cuomo had already brought in the National Guard to canvass for those possibly infected by the virus. I made my flight to Palm Springs on time.

That next day, March 12, I self-quarantined. On March 19 Governor Newsom announced shelter in place.  From that day onward my travels turned inward.

I turned to my loom and wove my journey’s abrupt ending: Meandering in Place.

 

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