Rugs from the Journey

Rugs from the Journey

Nomadic Textiles in Stillness

I came across this during my trip to Morocco.
Fabrics that exude tranquility.

Morning light in Marrakech
The cold air of the Atlas Mountains
And the road to the Sahara.
In the breath of the land and the time of life,
The rug stood there quietly.

One day,
In the souk, surrounded by the scent of sand and mint tea,
The merchant and I laugh as we unfold each piece of cloth.

Another day,
evening.
As the prayers of the mountains slowly flow into the sky,
In the setting light, I was quietly told the meaning of the patterns.

The journey is not about the scenery,
It was a moment when I realized that it was an experience of experiencing silence.

Rugs are not about technique or decoration,
Fabric born as an extension of hands, prayer, and life.

Surrounding the tagine,
We shared the couscous,
As I spent time with people, I learned that

Beauty born to be used.

Now, the memories of that journey,
They are quietly lined up in the quiet space of BORDEAUX.

Not decoration, but memory.
Not luxury, but presence.