I walked down the staircase of a parking garage, and at the bottom of the stairs--I will never forget what I saw. A young man lying on his stomach painting white lines between each black tile. He was painting between tiles in the entire floor! "This is incredible," I exclaimed, "Is this your job?" Briefly glancing up, he said: "Yeah, been at this a week now." "How can you do all this, is this your job," I asked. "Sorta. They pay me to do this. But I love doing it," as he remained focused on the floor. "What do you love about it?" I wondered. ("They make you do this in boot camp," I really thought.) What he said surprised me. "I imagine how this floor will brighten everybody's day who never knew there was even a design here." These stone shouted their design for this young man. He saw it and brought it to life. Then I thought to myself: whatever was work and sheer drudgery for others was artistry for this young man. He must have been aware of the design in himself to have found it in the floor. What do you see in this person's work--drudgery or artistry?
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