Circles: only for my sister
No one can lay down a sumptuous mosaic floor of diamond-shaped porphyry, gilt glass and marble scraps as I imagine pleasant Venetian monks, drinking water-cut wine did over 500 years ago. As I slide sage-green ceramic micro-tiles side by side into a mortar bed to form yet another long necklace-like arc of glistening tiles, I remembered. Over 15 years earlier I had tried. I had given my sister, Joyce, a book, The Decorative Floors of Venice, for Christmas. As daughters of an Air Force officer, we had grown up surrounded not only by a calming and ubiquitous Air Force blue, but by uniformity. Blue military uniforms. Blue military vehicles. Comfortable but identical base housing. In response, we both grew to be attracted by generous palettes and sparkling surfaces.
After Christmas, I had offered to spruce up a large rectangular concrete slab located outside the back French doors of her new enchanting Tampa home. It was the only drab feature, with brickwork of, maybe, a simple basket-weave pattern. I had recently taught myself masonry while constructing a brick side-garden at my Tallahassee home after the nearby hospital bulldozed some brick houses to accommodate its expansion. Joyce, with a history of exquisitely appointed homes, had a better idea. Pointing to a page in the book I had given her, she asked, “Could you do this?” Laughing, I explained those jewel-like floors were made of pink Verona and yellow Siena marble chips, recycled green porphyry and chalcedony, even semi-precious lapis lazuli stones. Joyce shrugged. “By skilled monks”, I continued, “and trained traveling artisans, some hundreds, some thousands of years ago”. Silence. As much as I wanted to please my sister, I knew the limitations of masonry. I drove home. Then it occurred to me: clay can do anything. Maybe, with clay, I could mimic the geometric shapes and colors of the precious marbles and stones inlaid into the decorative floors of ancient Venetian basilicas and churches – the half-moons, crescents, triangles and diamonds; the roses, pale oranges, sky blues, sea greens and shades of honey.
I spent the following month’s hand-rolling, cutting and glazing kiln-shelf
