This is my treat to myself: the Indigo Furoshiki I bought from a fabric dealer in Japan.
You can see the cloth has been made with widths of homespun fabric, like kimono garments, which goes right back to the Tilke conversation I was having in this post.
The writing on the corner is the label, a Saki brand I think.
Look at the beautiful wear and tear where the stress has been on the corners, the torn off knot is intact on the left side, like a full stop after years of lugging. The broken edge has worn so thin through hard work, I can sense the repeated tying and untying and the weight of the load and, as with all used workwear, I feel the presence of the worker. In this instance I think the feeling goes even further back, through the fingers of whoever stitched it together, patched and mended it, right into the hands of the weaver who was likely working at home.
I'm not sure what to do with my Furoshiki right now, maybe I'll stitch it onto a heavy linen sheet and make a bedspread, one thing I know is I want it to carry on working in some capacity.
... and if you peer hard enough you'll see a lovely spot of darning diagonally up and left of the price ticket.