Alizarin crimson
Appointments to keep in the past

The swish of her sari

Houndstoothsari
Colorful Sari cloth forms the lining of my Houndstooth jacket / New Jersey / Nov. 2008

“It is the sounds we hear as children that shape us.

It is the snap-crush of spices under the heel of my grandmother's hand. It is the slip-splash of her fingertips, sliding fish into turmeric water. It is the thwack of her palms, clapping chapattis to life on her flat stone, a perfect circle, every time. It is the swish of her sari, the click of her knitting needles, the tap-tap of the soles of her feet hitting the soles of her sandals. There lies my grandmother's Morse code.”

~ Sadia Shepard writing in her book: The Girl from Foreign, A Search for Shipwrecked Ancestors, Forgotten Histories, and a Sense of Home

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