Waves lap over sands along the eastern coast. Wood, polished by age, touched by hands we will never greet; they stand, framed by buildings, fading in the decades of sun & salt. The humid coastal air breathes past me, as my feet pass over these cobbled streets. Swahili words pass over my ears, as Swahili lives speak to me, through aged streets, grown places, touched and lived. These chaotic mains break into quiet alleys, with these busy patterns taking form in my mind. This old town speaks to me, by the sea with rough palms. I do not know the people, but this place whispers. I do not know the meaning, but in this space I feel. The old stones, old town, stand beyond me, turning into sky, and sea again, and I am here, until I have moved on.
Old Town, 2016
bracelet : fine silver . ankole horn . cotton
'Old Town' is based on this unnamed patron's love of the atmosphere of the streets of Old Town, Mombasa, and other such spaces in East Africa bearing Swahili histories. In this, it was not necessarily the town itself that is important, but his memory and imagination merged, bringing to the fore a part of himself that feels peace at the thought of exploring these spaces.