“You are the boss of your rug.”

This is perhaps the anthem of the Adobe Wool Arts Guild of New Mexico of which I am the current president. You will hear it whenever any one of us is working a rug and asks the others for advice. That means you and anyone within hearing distance will hear these words:

• at guild meetings and retreats;
• at Albuquerque’s Botanic Garden in the BioPark where we demonstrate twice a month (in non-Covid 19 months, that is);
• whenever and wherever any of us gather together to hook; and
• whenever any of us teach – formally or informally.

The guidance can be in regard to most anything involved in rug making.

• What color(s) would look best ?
• Monk’s cloth, linen, or rug warp?
• Wool strips or alternative fibers?
• Which frame is best?
• How high should my loops be?
• Should I use quillies*?
• Did I draw this right?
• What do you think about _______?

If you’re a rug hooker, you know that the list is endless. Although our rugs are generally solo works of art, we often seek input from others, often those more experienced than ourselves.

We are a small and close-knit group. We are also not shy about expressing ourselves or our opinions. This means that when a hooker asks how he or she should finish their rug, they will often receive 10 or 15 differing opinions. Strident opinions. Discussion will ensue. The poor hooker might be overwhelmed. (We made someone cry once; it wasn’t our finest moment.) But, in the end, it all comes down to the same thing every time: “You are the boss of your rug.”

Being the boss of your rug  – or your painting or your quilt or poem or whatever type of art you might make – means that you ultimately choose a design, colors, techniques, and so on. You make the piece with your own hands. And when you’re done with it, it is yours. Hopefully, you share it with the rest of us.

And we are proud of that person’s efforts.

Individually, I might think the rug needs improvement. Maybe blue would’ve worked better than black. Perhaps some of the loops fell out. Hell, maybe I hate the whole design. But it is NOT my rug. It is someone else’s rug, and I respect everything that he or she put into that rug. Or that short story or that piece of pottery.

We are proud that the person cared enough to make a rug. We are proud that he or she put themselves and their ego out there. That they felt safe enough to express themselves artistically in front of us. That they were able to say no to even the most vociferous of us and create their own rug.

Maybe you’re wondering why I bring this up.

In March, I wrote about my yearlong #RibbonRugJournal project. Basically, every day I hook an entry on a 3-inch or so length of a burlap ribbon roll. The image – more like a sketch – has to do with something from my day. It’s not a Picasso by any means. Burlap ribbon, I’ve found, sucks to hook on. Strings often break. It’s also a small space, not good for a lot of design definition, but I’ve made it over five months so I’ll keep going.

Little did I know in January what kind of year 2020 would be. Holy crap, Batman! Hence, in March the Coronacootie started showing up in my journal. And then in the last few weeks, #blacklivesmatter has dominated the news. As it should. And as we all know, that movement’s collision with politics has been cataclysmic for the country. Naturally, this has also made it into the #RibbonRugJournal.

What do I do with the journal? Every evening after I hook an entry, I take a picture and load it onto High on Hooking’s Instagram. This keeps me honest, plus some folks are following it. (Love you guys!) All of my Instagram posts are automatically loaded onto High on Hooking’s Facebook page. From there I  share it on my personal Facebook page.

Tuesday, June 2, I posted a simple image. It was indeed politically motivated. I am not a fan of Mr. Trump and was fairly incensed to see him silently hold a Bible aloft in front of a Church he does not attend after his minions forcibly removed from the church area peaceful protesters and the clergy of that church. You can see that I also made textual comments which you can read.

Later in the evening, I saw that folks had commented on my social media. I’m good with that. But one woman had posted:

Is this the right place for politics? I come here for a break from reality for a bit.

I was taken aback. High on Hooking is my company; it’s Facebook page is my page. While I leave overtly political posts and memes and such for my personal page, this was just an element of another hooked rug project. And I’d posted other occasional political entries before. I explained much of this to the writer. A bit of a dust-up ensued as others came to the defense of my self-expression. I thought that was the end till I turned on my phone Wednesday morning to another comment:

No politics please!

Note the exclamation point. Although I didn’t agree with the first woman, I could understand where she was coming from. But this chick was telling me to not post political content on my own f-ing page! Really! Guess she doesn’t like her rug hooking or her art making her uncomfortable. Or she can’t handle people having a difference of opinion.

My response:

______, this is my page. I don’t compartmentalize my life, especially not my art. Rug hooking allows me to process all of life, not just the easy and good things. Please read responses below.

Lady, and anyone else who didn’t like my #RibbonRugJournal Tuesday night, feel free to pass over my “political” posts or to stop following me if it bothered you that much. You have no right to tell me or to even intimate that I shouldn’t integrate my opinions into my art that I show on my social media. I am the boss of my rugs and my pages!

Beth Miller of Parris House Wool Works wrote a great blog post back in 2017, called “Shut Up and Sing” – A Guide to Why Those in the Humanities Will Not Be Silent. I encourage you to read it if you worry about our rights and needs to self-express.

Whether you paint or hook or write or sing, remember that

YOU ARE THE BOSS OF YOUR ARTWORK.

*I defy anyone to show me when a quillie is a good idea. Just saying.