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 crisscrossed knots were undone layer by layer, the anticipation of unveiling rivals the beauty of the hanbok. 

 

Pojagi, a traditional wrapping cloth often the remnants of clothes is also used as a 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 there was a small thrill uncovering it, and finding the neat arrangement of dishes prepared with care. 

 

From an 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