famous first words 'ya know, its pretty hard to fuck up a cork floor'. this was what dan said to me as i prepared to work on the cork floor for the first time last week. i did just a little and scuttled home. it was draining physically and mentally as i looked at his perfect curvatures of cork like tiny lifeboats lined up one after the other. perfectly.
then i went back and worked solo and oblivious to what lie ahead. happily nailing with the nail gun piece after piece. dan wanted every now and then for us to put a colored cork as a marker of sorts whereby we then put a clump of 'dated' corks. see a colored cork, go to it and there a small mass of same year corks reside. nice. how hard could that be?
the thing is, when you do something over and over and you aren't that familiar with it you are bound to fuck up. and knowing that its pretty hard to fuck up something makes those fuck ups all the more stressful. the fuck ups can also be culled into the dionysian category as long as it isn't terminal. dionysian meaning it aint perfect but it works. dan loves dionysian when appropriate and leaves the apollonian aspect to plumbing/wiring/foundation and structural aspects. the other stuff....there is room for imperfection. all i can say is thank the god on that one or else its time to move on and not even bother learning anything about home building.
so i had a good day that 2nd day. fingers were numb from pushing in/down on each cork as i nailed it to get it as tight as possible next to the others. you get the feel for it and after awhile a small bit of confidence comes. slather some adhesive stuff on the floor, pick corks, dan likes to call it 'interviewing the cork', and then place it down and nail that puppy in. tod had worked on the cork floor too and by the time our area ran into his area a bottleneck was in full swing. you can see in the first photo on the left that some finesse was called for as corks weren't fitting anymore and needed to be cut and shaped. the lines were not meeting up. dan said this was fine and expected as much, i couldn't help but to hear fuckup fuckup fuckup. i also noticed that some of the nails were sticking up a bit. they were too angled and not really flush. at times nothing was fitting or working and i found myself prying the corks out but the nails couldn't come out as they had no head. it felt like some mini disaster just waiting to explode. i realized i could push a cork over the nail and redo it. it was messy. i had white creamy adhesive junk all over my hands and the hammer. frantically hammering the corks over the nail or pounding the hell out of the nail and laying it flat. its embarrassing to recall. i just kept hoping no one would drop by and see me trying to save the floor.
then the colored corks and same year dates.....guess who put all 1990's in but also a 2000? that would be ME. how hard is it anyhow paula? i mean REALLY???!!!! it scares me some. i know that i never do anything right. ever. EVER. its exhausting. but i keep trying and keep willing to risk utter embarrassment and ruination of anything that i touch.
yesterday dan was there and said he sharpened the pocket knife so dont cut yourself. the minute he said that i knew i would cut myself. and i did. thats why i like to go there on weekends when few people are around. its embarrassing how moronic i can be around the simplest of commands. if you tell me to do something i wont be able to and if you tell me NOT to do something, well its as good as done.
so. i worked my fingers to the bone this weekend almost finishing the floor. i couldn't bring myself to go there today. i was beat up yesterday. dan says he likes the floor. he walks in and takes it all in and makes delightful sounds, saying isn't this wonderful. he loves those floors. he created them. the whole process. its amazing. i look forward to WATCHING next week when it comes time to grout and then finish them with a resin. not sure i should actually partake in that, i might end up permanently embedding myself or something.