The Magic of Armenian Folk Charms
Lucky me—I got to spend a sunny February afternoon in Yerevan with not one, but two Armenian folk art masters, learning how to make and decorate traditional Armenian charms.
It was February 2026, and Yerevan was finally shaking off winter. After the long cold stretch of December and January, the sun felt especially generous that day—one of those afternoons that quietly nudges you out the door. I planned to stop by briefly, just to say hello to friends who were teaching a class on Armenian folk charms. I had missed Part I the week before, so I told myself I’d pop in for a few minutes…
…and that plan lasted about five minutes.
With warm encouragement from everyone in the room, I stayed—and I’m so glad I did.
The classroom buzzed with welcome. Students gathered around tables, hands busy and spirits light. One participant, a singer, led us in Armenian folk songs as we worked, filling the room with music that felt as old and alive as the crafts themselves. At the center of it all were two folk art masters guiding us step by step.
Hasmik Mirzabekyan, founder of Narenam Art and Craft, is best known for her mastery of Armenian carpet and rug weaving, but her knowledge stretches across many traditional arts—including these Armenian folk charms. Alongside her was Tsoghik Voskanyan, founder of Colour Harmony, who specializes in felt artistry and clothing. Together, they led us through the process of creating felt balls—charms—from scratch, dyeing and decorating them with colorful threads. We also worked with walnuts, which also play an important role in this tradition.
These charms are more than decorative objects. In Armenian folk culture, they are made with intention and believed to offer protection and well-being. They can serve as:
- a symbol of protection and wellness
- a guardian of warmth in the home and family
- a wish for success and abundance
- a bearer of love and positive energy
Each felt ball was prepared using traditional methods, then decorated with symbolic patterns and colors chosen by its maker. What struck me most was the silent intention behind each piece. Every charm carries a wish, a hope, a silent prayer—something deeply personal, yet rooted in shared tradition.
This is how culture continues: through hands-on learning, generosity, and time spent together. It’s a transfer of tradition, yes—but also an exchange of energy, from heart to heart. That afternoon, two kind-hearted teachers shared not just their skills, but their blessings, and for a few sunlit hours, we all became part of something much older—and very much alive.
