Thanks, rugs acrylic on wood 12x15 (no longer exists)
We had a lot of rugs in our house growing up. Just about in every room. Swimming in their patterns, the cats (or "puds" for the initiated) would rotisserie themselves in a slowly spinning, sprawling square of afternoon sun. There's something dazzling in a rug's pattern. From afar they seem intricate, bold, and deliberate, yet fairly straight forward. But as you get up close, the tight structure dissolves into a beautiful array of pixelated color. In many ways, they reward patient observation. So I made this guy to show some appreciation for what they provide: warmth, quiet, and hours of a certain kind of learning and entertainment.
To be sure, the rugs in our house also contained a rich cultural history imbedded in them that both fascinates me and escapes me. Since many of the rugs we had have been donated or shared with family and friends or pitched outright, their particular mysteries may be hard to remember or interpret. But that doesn't mean I can't do some digging at the local public library to learn more about these patterns and motifs in a general sense. What I do know about them is what they've given me. And I'm grateful for that.
sidenote: This painting is a paint-over of another "painting" called Range from a series of sanded panels I did a while back. I often recycle old work that has dutifully served its purpose and yet thankfully still has potential for something new.