
Shade of palm.
Monolithic parasols of sand and burnt salt line the palm path. The light does the rest.

Three days at Chablé Maroma. A wedding composed as editorial.
Chapter composed by The Wedding Book for Chablé Maroma
Salt from the sea around Maroma. Coarse salt on the plate. Salt in the hand before the rite.
Three days. Five movements. A long table beneath the palapa, an altar against the horizon, a fall of raw linen through the lobby. Nothing decorative. Everything necessary.

Monolithic parasols of sand and burnt salt line the palm path. The light does the rest.

Dinner under the palapa. Raw linen, black Oaxacan clay, dry palm. Above the table, a three-meter salt sphere lit from within. Nothing else.
Ceremony on the private beach. An arch of woven palm. Behind it, a bone-white inflatable, five meters tall. The horizon does the rest.

Coconut ceviche in black clay. Local catch with recado negro. Mezcal with worm salt served in conch. Three plates. One material.
Cascades of salt-white linen and gauze fall from the lobby ceiling. The stone, the palm, the water were already there. We touched nothing else.








Credits