It’s a good thing I’m used to this – or I at least remember this feeling from art school.
You do some piece of art, and as you’re doing it, it seems to be the greatest thing on the planet.
But then, it isn’t anymore, and then you really hate it.
And, there it is.
This time in concrete.
I don’t actually hate it enough to get the pic-axe and start swinging. I knew I was relying on my beginners luck in doing this vast mosaic project, and I wanted to try to do something figurative, because I admire old Roman mosaics, but… it didn’t expect it to look like something a seven-year-old might have done.
And of course, after having had the experience of doing a mosaic in such very small stones, I know what I would rather have in that big empty triangle that I filled with cement and a fish.
I should have continued the circles and triangles theme, and filled the centre with the concentric waves of many raindrops in the different colours of stone, overlapping, interfering with each other.
And now, I have to live with Wanda the fish. She took seven hours, and many expletives were uttered, and now my muscles are sore, and I wish she wasn’t curing under the plastic so I could give her nasty looks, and maybe try to convince myself she doesn’t look that bad. This problem doesn’t exist in writing because you can edit to your heart’s content until it’s as close to perfection as you can imagine.
It’s almost as bad as if I’d set Spongebob Squarepants in stone. I suppose I could put a nice big potted plant on top of her.
Maybe she’ll grow on me. I told my husband that I’ll let this mosaic wear out, and put the raindrop mosaic in after that.