The Adventures of Kerriann: Scrap Fabric and more!

It has been a long time since I last wrote a blog … life in general has been busy, the world has changed in ways I could never have fore seen and a lot has changed in my life.

Over the years my Blog has changed in writing style as I grew and learnt new things each year but The Adventures of Kerriann was primarily written in a sort of diary format. A way for me to look back over my various adventures in chronological order as I reached old age and my mind begins to mix the years, countries and experiences.

It was also written to hopefully inspire others to live outside the boundaries we place upon ourselves. If I could do it with limited finances and training so could anyone else and so I am going to endeavour to fill in the blanks of the last two and a half years....

In December 2018, armed with my new mantra, (see previous Blog) Peter's motor bike (as Peter was now back in the UK), over 20kg of accumulated belongings, including my sewing machine, I moved out of the house with the garden in South Cliff leaving them in charge of my growing lufas and into Steve and Emma's old flat at Borneo Mukk, Varkala.

The rent was paid until February, they were happily living in the house over at South Cliff so I had the whole place to myself!!

I had no responsibilities, no commitments, no one to look after or worry about … it was just me!

As no one had been staying in the flat for the past few months a fine layer of dust had settled through out so the first job was to clean everything!

It is only a small flat, two bedrooms, a living area, kitchen area and bathroom but it was all mine to do with whatever I pleased.

Happy with the cleaned results and having settled my belongings into the various rooms I headed down to see the Tailor man and pick up my first big bag of scrap fabrics.

Each time one of the transient tourists ordered a made to measure garment, the remaining scraps of fabric were bundled into a bag at the back of his shop. Once full this fabric was taken away to be burnt!!

BURNT!!!

They actually had to PAY some one to take it away!

Scraps of silk, polyesters mixes, rayon and cottons of the most vivid colours were burnt to ash to make way for the next bundle of scrap fabric that accumulated weekly during the high season.

That was until I found out and offered to take anything and everything away for free!

I returned to the flat with my backpack crammed and set to work sorting my new treasure.

Soon the floor of the lounge disappeared under my spreading hoard and this was only the first load!!

I gazed in wonder at the fabulous colours and wondered what to make first!!

Where DO ideas come from?

Imagination?

Past experiences?

Universal influence?

In Polynesia, when you arrive, you are given a garland of flowers to welcome you onto the island.

The garland of course shrivels and dies but while you remain in this paradise you will see the same flowers everywhere you go and if you want, you can get another garland any time you wish.

But when you leave the island, you are given a garland of shells. The shells will last forever, a tiny piece of paradise to keep with you.

In India too garlands of flowers are given as a gift, a blessing, a reminder of the beauty that surrounds you.

I looked at the piles of fabric …. what if you could have a garland of India's colours to keep forever?

I Googled fabric garlands, scrolled my way through YouTube and then began work.

Strips were cut and ripped.

Knots were tied and cut.

As the knots accumulated they were placed into sweet like piles around the room …

....... tiny pyramids of colour that needed to be re sorted every time a big gust of wind blew through the open windows.

When the pyramids grew large enough I would lay out symmetrical designs in long strips, mixing the colours until I liked what I saw.

Seven knots of each colours were set out in tiny groups along the floor, with experimentation this later moved to ten.

Tassels were made for the centre and then armed with my trusted tipi sewing needle and strong fishing thread I began to sew.

Running the needle through each knot I worked my way to the centre, threaded the tassel on and then progressed along the symmetrical colours of other side.

Garland after garland was made.

They soon draped every window,

hung from every door

and still the fabric kept coming!!

When I had filled the flat I gave them to friends. I made them for the yoga hall, I made them for strangers,

I made them for the lovely lady in the shop I walked past each day as I collected more and more fabric from the Tailor man.

I made shopping bags,

stuffed bean bags with cotton scraps,

then I made a sunflower!!

By sewing two edges of a rectangle together to make a square and then turning it inside out I could gather the two remaining sides into something that resembled a petal.

These I sewed by hand onto a circular base before covering the centre with another circle.

I made more flowers making smaller and smaller squares as I neared the centre even filling some totally with petals.

When I had too many flowers I made them into a wall hanging using a broken hammock...

..... that took two days of pain staking hours to de-knot.

From the carefully de-knotted surplus of hammock string I made a dream catcher covering an old bicycle wheel …

..... which allows great spacing as the holes are already in the rim!

and still the fabric kept coming!

Ramesh and Balu lived in the flat below Steves and I shared their big fully stocked (with pans, cooker and fridge) kitchen.

My kitchen upstairs had no cooker so was more of a salad and fruit preparation area!

When the boys went home to Tamil Nadu for Pongal I had the chance to clean not only the kitchen

(It took TWO days to defrost the fridge and that is in INDIA!!!)

but also the balcony and rooms until they shone.

I opened up Balu's shop each day happily sewing flowers and carrying home yet more fabric.

When the boys came back I continued my yoga with Ramesh.

And so my life fell into a fabulous routine of swimming, sewing, yoga,

helping in Balu's shop and collecting fabric.

As the season progressed the fabric pieces got bigger and bigger until I had one full bag of pieces too nice to be ripped into strips.

I sent a parcel to Singapore for the dressing up box and stored away the rest until an idea presented itself.

.......and then I started to draw mandalas....

lots of mandalas!!

I set up a chill out area in Steve and Emma's room where I could look out of the balcony door onto outside world and each afternoon, as the sun made it too hot to sew, I would draw.

In the end I drew nearly as many mandalas as I made garlands.

but I wont bore you with them all!!

In the mean time Peter and I had been talking about our new house.

The roof ideally needed fixing before the next rainy season but Mohamed’s friend was using the place and fixing the roof would be noisy.

We also needed a place to live once Peter came back in February.

I briefly thought about staying on at Steve's place but then a new plan presented itself.

I met up with Mohamed to ask if we could fix the roof before the rains.

He said he would talk to his friend and before we knew it the friend had offered to move out for 2 months while we moved in to do the work!!

On January 29^th 2019 Rasi Manzil was vacated and at 12 noon I headed down from the flat to clean while Mohamed supervised the cleaning of the well

(all our water comes from the outside well).

Now I can clean and I also have energy levels that leave most people standing but 7 hours of solid back scrubbing work later I still felt I was only half way through.

Mohamed however was amazed at the transformation.

Windows had been opened, walls had been washed, floors had been swept, scrubbed, mopped and washed again this time on my hands and knees.

The fridge had been stripped, soaked, washed and reassembled plus light bulbs had been changed.

I had originally planned to move in the next day, January 30^th which would give me the 31^st to clean Steve's flat before I handed the keys back to the landlord but as I looked at the cleaned house I asked Mohamed if I could move my stuff in that night.

Mohamed happily agreed and gave me the keys.

Despite my tired state I returned to flat and packed the last of my belongings including the now ripened and dried lufa!!

I called Sandheev (my faithful rickshaw driver and 2 years later very good friend) to move my cases and the heavy stuff while I loaded the bike with the rest, including my clothing rail that I carried upside down and over my head in true Indian style.