A mosaic floor at Ostia, Italy. November 2001.
Spend some time prepping the floor to paint, but mostly a lazy day spent knitting, napping and reading. I've been saving a book that I got in December to read when I had a nice stretch of time to go slowly and savor what I was reading.
It's Finding Beauty in a Broken World by Terry Tempest Williams: "Looking up, you find yourself standing beneath the brilliance of a night sky, a dazzling deep blue background of mosaics that hold an ordered constellation of stars that literally tinkle silver and gold as incoming light dances across the surface of the glass tesserae. Small white-petaled flowers hang delicately between the stars. Red, yellow, and silver-crossed mandalas create the vision of other orbs floating freely in the universe. The mosaic ceiling shimmers even under the cover of clouds. With the doors open, it is as though the face of each glass cube is emanating light."
Thinking about the sun as a star, the song "We Are all Made of Stars," by Moby (which had me reading about quantum physics), and wondering what if little pieces of fabric were used to create a mosaic? And what if we are all made of stars?