BOUJAD | 350 x 170 cm

The Boujad souk has operated every Thursday for as long as anyone can remember. Traders come from across the plains — some selling livestock, some buying wool, some simply there to see and be seen. This rug was woven by a woman whose house overlooked the market square. She could not leave the house easily — her legs had been damaged in a childhood accident — but she could watch. For forty years, she watched. The orange is the color of the dust that rose from the market in summer. The patterns are the shapes of the stalls, the paths between them, the geometry of commerce. She sold her rugs through a nephew who never told buyers where they came from. She preferred anonymity. Her rugs did not.