Not much to blog about today as it was fairly uneventful. So instead, I shall present to you a picture of a knitting project I completed a while back.
Roughly a month or two ago, I purchased some recycled yarn at Powell’s Books. It was stranded together by old Hindu saris and Tibetan robes. The colours put a kaleidoscope to shame and I desperately wanted to knit something out of it. The end product — a new medicine bag.
My medicine bag is very personal as it has evolved with me over the past decade and change. But never once have I had the skills or the know-how to make one. All past pouches were bought at new agey stores or at authentic Native American Powwows. The colours I chose to knit for this one are deliberate, as is the charm hanging from the flap. That charm was gifted to me ages ago by a very dear friend who told me, “This is one of the rock drawings found on the Columbia Gorge. She was a Native American Chief and her name was She Who Watches. When I saw it, I knew it was meant for you.” This was before years of magickal and spiritual studies and, gosh darn it, he nailed it before I knew my Self.