miércoles, enero 08, 2014

Miércoles Mudo - Bolso conejito

   


Bolso conejito, con una mola, mi sobrina armó este bolso y le puso una borla de hilo de colores.


Las molas, provenientes de la cultura Kuna que comparte el territorio de Colombia y Panamá, son confecciones decorativas de telas, trabajadas al revés con la técnica del llamado bordado aplicado, elaboradas con vistosos textiles de diferentes colores.
Las molas, trabajadas tradicionalmente por las mujeres de la comunidad Kuna, no solamente son prendas diferentes e irrepetibles. Las molas son toda una filosofía, una tradición conservada. En ellas, las mujeres se visten toda la vida y con ellas se hunden en la tierra, cuando llega la muerte.
Miércoles Mudo” es un carnaval de blogs o blog hop iniciado por Maybelline de Naturalmente Mamá


¡Feliz Miércoles!
Visita los blogs que participan en el Miércoles Mudo haciendoclick aquí   




16 comentarios:

  1. Respuestas
    1. Gracias por decierlo, Marietta, mi sobrina es muy cuidadosa y hace las cosas muy bien y bonitas. Un gusto recibir tu visita.

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    2. Love

      Soft and warm
      Sealed with care
      Sweet and kind
      Will ever share
      Brave and strong
      Yet so fair
      That is her
      She's always there

      Sensitive
      to despair
      Harkens to
      others welfare
      Delicate
      she's elsewhere
      Beautiful
      beyond compare

      If you meet her
      Best Beware
      She'll steal your heart
      unaware
      Her name is Love
      This I swear
      There's none like her
      anywhere

      Eliminar
  2. Precioso conejito, me encanta esa composición con espirales!

    ResponderEliminar
    Respuestas
    1. Si las molas son hermosas, las diseñan las mujeres de la cultura Kuna y lo hacen con la fauna y flora de su entorno. También aplicándole mucha imaginación.

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    2. El tema que se suele repetir en la mayoría de las molas, es la imagen del laberinto. Los indios Kuna creen que el hombre, la exuberante vegetación tropical y los animales son constantemente reunidos a través de caminos complejos.

      Eliminar
    3. What you mean to me

      My mind is longing for love,
      A love my heart just found.
      Words will not describe!
      The emotions I feel inside.
      When we are together,
      I need to hold you close.
      Heart to mind, or lips to lips.
      I love your smile,
      your sexy charm,
      Your valiant walk,
      your long flowing hair,
      All these things sets alarm.
      To each day I walk alone,
      No one can fill my heart… your home.
      I think about you all damn day,
      But mostly when I lie awake.
      I never dreamt much in the past,
      Now I do and it's for you.
      I will stand by your side,
      Through thick and all,
      To see that gorgeous smile,
      That always makes me fall.
      When you think you have nothing left,
      I SWEAR to you, I'll be left.
      Your gentle lips and your beautiful glow,
      An angel I have, from head to toe.
      I know these words,
      my heart has shown,
      To you I vow these words alone.


      Love,
      Me

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  3. ¡¡Qué bolso tan original!! No conocía este tipo de artesanía. ¿Dices que se llama Mola? Es muy original y colorido. Gracias por compartirlo.

    Un placer conocerte. Feliz MM. Un saludo.

    ResponderEliminar
    Respuestas
    1. El tema que se suele repetir en la mayoría de las molas, es la imagen del laberinto. Los indios Kuna creen que el hombre, la exuberante vegetación tropical y los animales son constantemente reunidos a través de caminos complejos.

      Las hacen las mujeres de la cultura Kuna.
      Las MOLAS se tejen manualmente en telas de algodón de formas cuadradas o rectangulares y de variados colores, telas que al ser perforadas y superpuestas dan como resultado un producto de significado especial y simbólico.

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    2. Lost Love

      Void, empty, hollow inside
      My dreams have fled, my hopes have died
      Existence has no reason
      Life's just passing with each season

      She was my life, my hope, my love
      All is gone, passed by thereof
      The hurt is such no one should bear
      What's to life, why should I care?

      I weep all night for my love gone
      My heart is sick, for death I long
      Mine eyes well tears for love that's lost
      I'll mourn always for the great cost

      But in each day Lord give me hope
      Strengthen me so I may cope
      Grant me wisdom to help me see
      Thy great way and not just me.

      Eliminar
  4. No conocía lo de las molas, es muy bonito
    .
    Besos

    Raquel
    .

    ResponderEliminar
  5. Si mi sobrina tiene mucho cuidado con las obras manuales.

    ResponderEliminar
  6. Respuestas
    1. Maybellini, agradezco tu visita y mucho más tu idea del Miércoles Mudo. Estoy encantada.
      Ana María -Penélope

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    2. The Revenge Of Love

      Oh! Rukmoni, are you listening?
      How can you listen!
      As you are living in a far away land
      By chance if you listen this poem
      In the sky or air, take it for granted
      That it has been written
      For you and if you have time to spare
      Go to the silent bank of the river
      Or listen to it closed door ever.

      Oh! Rukmoni,
      I have taken the revenge
      Not against you
      But against me,
      The job why I had not got
      In the proper time why I had not.
      So when I was breaking the steps
      Of the heart of yours
      And the houses and the doors.
      The steps were trembling
      The stars of the sky were whirling
      In a fear as if the things might go in a wrong way
      Your parents would come out and say
      That it would not be possible for them to keep the promise at all
      Though to me they would be extremely polite humble.
      Suddenly all the hopes would get their wings
      Flying like a thread less kite all the dreams.

      The job I have got today
      And beg to you to pardon me
      Why in the proper time I did not!

      So you are away from me …apart
      Still I feel you in the corner of my heart
      And in my every dropp of blood red
      And in the every soft touch of the wind.
      Just remembering the name of you
      I get an immense pleasure in the world of dream
      Like a white cloud floating in the paradise
      When I am in the ocean of sorrow of my life.

      So many brides I have seen
      So many brides I have been shown
      I have rejected them all
      Saying ‘'I am very well alone''

      They will not feel the stone
      They will not feel the feather
      Of my heart and soul
      Which I feel lying alone
      Looking at the doors of my dream
      Tearing down of all the bondage
      My love is coming….!
      Even though living in the reality
      I don't understand why
      This is not a truth, it's a lie.

      In the multitudes
      I am alone and bitterly lonely
      With a delirium mind and a heart full of pangs and agony
      The eyes are in the sky, I walk down the road
      And in my imagination I draw your face in the cloud
      Who are sometimes laughing!
      Who are sometimes crying!

      What is that to me?
      Even you are away from me
      I got you in the clouds of imagination
      In every pose and in every position
      Just like that, come to me
      And sit down to say sweet or sad story
      I promise, I shall not end the journey.

      To make me forget your memories
      The virtual road ends in my house
      I could not do anything but to stand up
      In the wall of your picture to draw up
      Which sometimes crying!
      Which sometimes laughing!
      Playing the flute of the dolorous
      The nectar of my heart glorious
      She talks with me like a mad woman
      And saying that I became a mad man.

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  7. Qué hermoso trabajo manual. Admiro mucho a las personas que saben hacer esa cosas. Yo solo sé firmar... jajajaj
    Saludos desde Aruba
    M.M.

    ResponderEliminar

Qué rico las opiniones son bienvenidas.
Gracias,
Ana María - Penélope