I have a very supportive and generous husband, Ted, my resident patron of the arts (patron of my art, to be exact). The hallway floor just outside my studio needed to be redone, so we bought some plain square tiles. However, knowing my love for mandalas, Ted dropped a tile (on purpose, of course) and soon found himself in a project slightly more involved than placing the original tiles down. All the pieces are hand cut. He also added pieces from rocks collected by our grandchildren, and a few extra tiles he bought for color variation. Let me show you a couple sections (the color looks different because of variable lighting):
Gorgeous? I certainly think so. I know it’s a cliché, but the pictures do not do the floor justice. Ted has never thought of himself as an artist. I beg to differ.
Lest you think this is a small floor: