When my daughter's hanbok arrived, it was carefully wrapped in a beautiful pojagi made of ornate silk as precious as the dress itself. As the crisscrossed knots are undone layer by layer, the anticipation of unveiling rivals the beauty of hanbok. 

 

Pojagi, a traditional wrapping cloth, often the remnants of clothes is also used as table covering. When I was a child, my grandmother prepared our meals early in the morning. She gently covered the food with a pojagi until it was ready to be served. Every morning the menu was the same, but every morning there was  a small thrill in the uncovering, to find the neat arrangement of dishes prepared with care. 

 

From heirloom of riches wrapped in silk to tattered rags quilted for hasty evacuation during war, the image of pojagi is intrinsic to Korean history. Pojagi is a gift, filled with mystery and anticipation. Wrapped, bundled, swathed in precious fabric, stories of family, folklore and history unravel in the paintings of Gatherings.

 

Leeah Joo