Marrakech: and a tale of a cocktail party

It had all the elements, you see.  

It was a cocktail party at the Marrakech home of an antiquities dealer...

and his wife, a very favorite jeweler of mine...

As you would expect, there were strange and special things, scattered here and there.

The guest list for this party was small but impressive.  There were Moroccan art dealers and retired financiers.  

There were also beautiful girls...

There was even nudity! (A little scandal always improves a party, don't you think?)

Thankfully the King of Morocco turned a blind eye.

The youngest guest was my own Skylar (wearing a combination of leopard, stripes and ikat).  And the newest guest was Michelle -- a brand new intern at Peacock Pavilions.

There were delicious things to drink and eat.

And the cake was heavenly....

So much so, that I could have sworn I was touched by an angel.....

PS How was your weekend? I want to hear.

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Mirleft: and a tale of a wave

I had pushed away the memories of saving him (or almost not saving him), and it had gone back to being my favorite beach.  I collected piles of shells, I followed seagull tracks, I gazed lazily at passing clouds.  It was, in short, perfect.

I was sitting in a beach chair, my head buried in a book and my toes dug in the sand, when I heard my daughter's shrill 11 year old voice.  A wave! she shouted.  I looked up and saw it -- the wave.  It engulfed the beach -- the whole beach -- suddenly.  And then just as quickly, it was gone.  It took with it our two ipods, my sandals, my daughter's skirt, our picnic.  The wave washed the beach smooth, leaving no traces.  No, no! cried my son.  No!  His many megabites of music, gone just like that.  My daughter sobbed, distraught.  I held her then, thinking of those who many miles away and several years before had seen a wave and lost everything -- including their homes and the people they loved.  

My husband's camera, now a cadaver, winked at me far down the beach.  

That night, I proposed dessert and a second bottle of wine.  I then tucked my daughter into bed -- her hair fanned out on the pillow beneath her.

Marrakesh: and a tale of becoming and the bejeweled girls

It all started in Paris.  

Oh dear, I'm lying.   

It really started in the Marrakech jewelry studio of Jewels.  I was there waiting.  The other women were waiting with me.  They were beautiful but unadorned.

Until me.

Suddenly, I had become a jeweler of sorts.  

{What do you wish you could become? Maybe your becoming is just right around the corner.....}

Marrakech: and a tale of my still curious home - Part 2: my guestroom

And the tour of my curious things continues....  Today the guest room in my home at Peacock Pavilions. For friends and family when they come to Marrakesh to visit.  

A lamp made by an American artisan from my own Buddha hand, ceramic bird and religious charms.  Moroccan roses in a vase that doubles as a Moet champagne container.

A wool pom pom blanket of my own design as well as a vintage Moroccan flat weave cushion (soon in Red Thread Souk!).  One of my vintage Moroccan wedding blankets, known as handiras (Scroll down to see those for sale here).

Old curly shoes bought in Pakistan. A book on Diana Vreeland given to me by her son and a book on Mary given to me by my father.

A vintage motorcycle model found in the Marrakesh souks rests on an antique Tibetan chest.

Pillow I made from Egyptian fabric with Arabic calligraphy.

A vintage suzani with a crocheted & sequined border bought on assignment in Kyrgyzstan.  A glimpse of the stenciled floor -- a Moroccan bone weave pattern I found -- that was created into a stencil by Royal Design Studio.

A brass bowl with a bird, purchased in Cairo. In the backdrop, old tribal earrings I bought in Yemen.

An 18th century Buddha given to me by my parents.

Vintage Moroccan baskets resting on old tassel hanging from Afghanistan.  I made the table with tiles from Popham Design.

A lamp I made from an old beaded Afghan hat.  A vintage toy car found in the Marrakech souks.

Antique mirrors and santos halo from Peru.  Feather donated by my peacock, Maurice.

What strange and curious things are in your guestroom?

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