My name is Kt. I was born and raised in Kentucky, and spent the last three years living in British Columbia, Canada. In 2012, newly married and 7 months pregnant, I moved  to B.C. with my husband to live on his family farm and to have my daughter. We lived there for several years, in the woods somewhere between Vancouver and Banff. We raised pigs and chickens and one beautiful daughter, and I tried to immigrate, but failed. Unable to work in Canada, I kept myself busy playing, hiking, art-ing, and reading with my daughter. It was a beautiful, quiet time, full of love but also loneliness. Fortunately, loneliness can be full of lessons and one thing I learned during my time there was that color and creation bring me joy. Learning to make rugs was a way for me to both play with my daughter and create something tangible that made my heart feel happy.

I was partly inspired to make rugs by Emily Carr (1871-1945), a Canadian artist who made her living by making rugs until her painting career finally took off in her mid-50’s. My true art-love is oil painting, like Ms. Carr, but that is definitely not recommended for children under the age of three, so painting was out of the question for me with my little one always at my side. My other inspiration was my Kentucky roots. Rag rugs, or twined rugs, are a traditional appalacian craft, and learning to make them helped me feel a little more connected to home. Once I had the idea to make functional floor art, I learned the technique of twining by watching YouTube videos (Thank you Shelia Honeycutt!). I made my first loom with the side of a baby crib and some curtain hooks. After some trial-and-error, I came up with one that was totally toddler-proof. As a bonus, my little lady loved helping me rip the sheets to shreds, because who doesn’t love a little destruction?

Speaking of destruction, I was quickly self-destructing in Canada. I truly felt helpless living there with my husband away at work or school all the time, and me mostly alone on the farm with the baby. I was unable to make immigration move more quickly, and thus was unable to help support my family financially. That was incredibly frustrating, but at the same time that I was so socially, financially, and physically uncomfortable, I also felt incredible amounts of joy and inspiration from my daughter and my gorgeous Canadian surroundings. It was a confusing time, to be sure, and I was compelled to make art. I found all forms of art comforting, but the simple, repetitive movement of rug-making was theraputic, even meditative, for me. Plus, while my hands were busy tying knots, I listened to all of Bréne Brown’s books, and I am pretty sure that her kind words and deep insights may have saved my life. Another way my rugs helped (and are still helping) me heal was that I gifted them to people who had a positive influence on me and helped me through those dark times. And I still have many more to give, which reminds me- I need to send one to Bréne!

Initially, I jokingly called my creations Rage Rugs because I made them to keep busy and to distract myself from my misplaced rage and discomfort. But it wasn’t really a joke. I had truly started to feel like a trapped animal in Canada, so far away from my people and civilization in general. I felt like I could do nothing right, and my self-worth was at an all-time low. Making rugs gave me a tangible way to say to myself: “You are still here, and you are okay.”

I am home in Kentucky now, and am thankfully in a much less rage-y place, but I continue to make rag rugs because I love making them, and because they are still helping me to process the pain and confusion of the past few years. Accordingly, I have renamed them Sage Rugs because I recognize that, as hard as the past three years felt, they were also full of important lessons that I needed to learn (and am still learning!). With every knot I make, I weave my profound thanks for the wisdom I have gained from Canada and motherhood and this crazy-wonderful life I get to live. Each rug is full of little errors and imperfections, and, just like my life, the imperfections are part of what make them- and me- so beautifully real. Thank you for visiting. -kt