Cleaning is an art form

I know what you're thinking.

"No, a clean home is not a Matisse, a Picasso, a Michaelangelo".

I'm going to prove you wrong. Dead wrong.

When we think of our homes, we think of comfort. We think of memories, perhaps of a discomforting nature. We think of food. We think of beauty. We think of what we don't have, what we just bought, what we used to have here, or there, or in the basement. We want to move this, change that, paint this, declutter that.

It is very rare, if ever, that I walk into a home and haven't found it to be an art form. The style, the textures, the way everything flows together, or doesn't. Is it Bohemian minimalist? Is it messy? Is it busy with fingerprints and footprints and doghair and food spills? Does it have a good vibe, or a depressed vibe? Does it love to cook? Does it play music? Does it watch television? Does it write poetry? Does it garden? Does it party? Does it play poker? Is it divorcing? Does it have scabies? Lice? Cancer? HIV? The list goes on...

I've been in more homes than I can count. There is no home I have been in that I don't remember or couldn't recall readily. And I completely integrate each of these homes into who I am as a cleaner.

I've cleaned for hoarders, for a man with OCD so terrible he couldn't get off his couch. I've cleaned for neurotic mothers and Bi-polar college students. I've cleaned for East Indians, Africans, Dutch, English, Chinese, Mexican, Australian, and one woman I could swear is a spy for the Canadian Government and I have no idea where she is from, but she's been everywhere.

I've cleaned for business professionals, including very successful escorts. I've cleaned for rub-and-tug owners, single mothers, single fathers, pregnant newly-weds and a married couple in their 90's, and watched her trim his nails while I vacuumed around them.

I've cleaned in cockroach heaven. Drug heaven. Alcoholic heaven.

Every home is different. Every experience is different. When I walk into a home, it wants something different.

That's what we do.

When I walk into a home. I don't clean it. I paint it using rags with love, integrity, sincerity, sharing, and sometimes a bit of Mr. Clean.

Our homes are the very essence of who we are. It is where our character is formed, nurtured, and sometimes destroyed. It's where we play, cook, build, create, cry, relax, yell, laugh, work, raise our children, and so much more.

I don't clean homes because you pay me to do so. I clean homes because everyone should have the time to dream and spend their downtime pursuing those dream. I don't clean your home, I care for it, like you do.

So, if you think cleaning is not an art form. I beg to differ. I believe cleaning for you allows you to spend your time building a better you. A freer you. A more loving you. An available you. A jogging you. A painting you. A writing you. A baking with your children you. A building a deck in the backyard you. A chef you. A peaceful you. Whatever you, you want to be.

And you're right, its not a Matisse, A Picasso, or a Michaelangelo,

but it is a pretty picture.