Homage To A Floor

Fabiola dances on a tangent.






Today I took a few moments to scrub grout lines in the back hall. There are few times in life that can be as fufilling as being able to indulge oneself in dancing to Disco music at full volume, while maintaining the pristine condition of the grout lines in a tile floor. (Entire post on THAT subject sometime in the future).



As I scrubbed, I glanced up at the walls, then back down at the floor I was working on.


I love my tile floor. The man that installed that tile invested time on that floor, he placed, rearranged, stood back, contemplated and moved pieces until that floor was as harmonious as he could make it. In appreciation, when it was my turn to paint the walls over that floor, I used the same method, only using paint. Everyone that saw me working on those walls, splopping paint here and there, scrubbing and feathering, more splopping, more scrubbing ... you get the idea. Everyone declared me to be out of my mind. I didn't care, I created an homage to the craftmanship that went into my floor.






My homage to a floor.

Fabiola asks you. Have you ever decided to do something creative and despite the fact that everyone doubted you, you created anyway and surpassed even your own hopes?