My little flip phone at the top there gives it some scale.

In 2010 I was living in a teeny town in Florida, renting a rickety old house that had an awesome, enclosed front porch. It was cute, but it was green.
Who the hell paints a porch green?!

So, being the little vandal that I am, I decided this was a perfect canvas.
And see that rug rolled up in the left corner there?
That came with the house - it was there when I moved in, meaning I could cover up my awful graffiti if the landlords ever came over and they wouldn't look twice.
You can even see the clean spot where the rug typically lay.

That created a perfect boundary line for my artistic destruction.
It was practically an invitation!
"Come on, just paint a little, no one will ever know..."

I started with a very loose pencil outline of what I kinda had in mind (honestly, besides swirly stuff, I don't know if I had anything in mind) and then began to paint.

I didn't use stencils on this one. The basic square shape of the brush created its own "tile," even though the edges were rounded and each one looked a tad different.
Some of them look more like slanted lines than squares.

This was my favorite view.

It took me a couple of weekends to finish, and every time I left the house I would cover it up with the rug, just in case someone popped by for a surprise visit.

I enjoyed this little project. It started me on the path of bigger mosaics, and I discovered that I really enjoyed the idea of secretly painting where I wasn't supposed to.

When I moved out, I left the rug covering the mosaic.
It still brings a smile to my face to think of someone lifting up that nasty old rug and discovering what was underneath. More than likely it was painted over, but who knows... maybe it's still there?