The basis of our pattern-language is the folk ornamentation of Central Europe, and especially of Hungary, because the most important feature of ancient Hungarian folk art is that is represents life itself.
The symbols and emblems of folk art have universal meaning. Starting from ancient times, people shaped their objects and tools to be useful, and not just useful, but also beautiful, and, more than that, to express something higher.
The desire to connect with holiness was fundamental in cultures of early human communities through thousands of years. Practice, aesthetics, and sacrality were inseparably linked in each object. Thus, these everyday tools and other objects helped people to create sacred space, time and environment.
We strive for this triad as well. A baby-carrying woven wrap for us is not just an object of utility which satisfies our desire for beauty: carrying is not just an everyday activity, but it is already a sacred act.
Folk art does not exist alone in folk traditions, but is in union with folk poetry and folk music. Associated texts make it easier to interpret the meaning of the images. Each pattern is an old prayer, song or story woven into the wrap. Our themes are linked inseparably to motherhood, to birth, to love – to life.
Our wraps are not just useful and beautiful, but they have meaning: They are Magic Wraps.
“Heaven gave birth to Earth,
Earth gave birth to Tree,
Tree gave birth to Branch,
Branch gave birth to Bud,
Bud gave birth to Flower,
Flower gave birth to Saint Anna,
Saint Anna gave birth to Mary,
Mary gave birth to Christ, our Lord,
The Savior of the World.”
(Hungarian folk prayer)
“Graceful bird, soaring high,
Not a bird, but an angel in the sky,
Under its wings a holy sanctuary,
On its altar true faith blossoms.”
(Hungarian folk prayer)
Spring wind floods water, my flower, my flower.
Every bird chooses a partner, my flower, my flower.
Well, who should I choose, my flower, my flower?
You choose me, I choose you, my flower, my flower.
Green ribbon, light clothes, my flower, my flower.
Because wind blows it easily, my flower, my flower.
But the veil is a heavy cloth, my flower, my flower.
Because grief pulls it to the ground, my flower, my flower.
(hungarian folk song – part)
Legend of the Leading Wondrous Deer:
“I am a leader, a leading-deer,
A thousand riders behind me.
Running long and far since dawn,
Running through the froth.
Rushing through everything in their path,
No rest, no stopping.
The knights do not stumble,
Spurring on their steeds with a vengeance.
They think they hunt me,
And delight in the promise of blessing.
They do not know that I am hunting them,
I bait them at a hundred borders.
I will hold my banquet
When the dawn comes again.
There is no way back, they will be stranded,
They will never be able to return.
I have given them a new land,
The game will be plenty.
They celebrate me as their king,
They bathe in milk and butter.”
(Jordanes, goth historian from the 6th century)