“If You Teach 10 Things, Get Rid of 9"

How narrowing my focus on my teaching mosaics unlocked more creativity, clarity, and connection than I ever expected

There’s a saying that’s floated around the business world for a while: “If you teach ten things, get rid of nine.”

I first heard it from Sam Ovens, a consultant best known in the business consulting world — not exactly the Roman mosaic niche. But something about it hit me harder than I expected. It was one of those sentences that rewires how you see the work you do.

At the time, I didn’t think I was teaching too many things. After all, everything I taught was within Roman mosaics — a focused niche, right? But the truth is, I’d splintered my efforts into too many strands. Different topics, different audiences, different outcomes. A guide here. A workshop there. A bit of geometric pattern work, a bit of tool use, a bit of drawing, a bit of history…

I was trying to serve everyone with everything I knew. And ironically, that meant most people weren’t getting what they needed from me at all.

A business mentor I’d started working with, Frank Lee, spotted this instantly. He understood the way I worked — a craftsman’s mind trying to translate years of practical skill into something others could learn from. But I couldn’t see the structure myself. Frank nudged me toward Sam Ovens’ work, and that’s where the “teach one thing” concept landed hard.

It made me stop. And look again.

What was the one thing I truly wanted to teach?

What did everything I was doing actually revolve around?

The answer, I realised, was Classical Andamento — the flow and structure of how lines are laid in mosaics. It’s the visual grammar of mosaic art. The foundation that every Roman mosaic, every good modern mosaic, quietly relies on.

And once I saw that, it was like I’d finally picked up the right tool.

From that one focus — teaching Classical Andamento — everything else unfolded more clearly. Ironically, it didn’t make things narrower. It revealed how much depth was inside that one thing.

It was like looking at a gemstone. One object, but with a hundred different facets. Depending on how you turn it in the light, you see something new — but it’s still the same stone.

That’s what Classical Andamento became for me.

It split into distinct, teachable aspects:

• A Crib Card that originally combined both flowing and discordant examples — which confused more people than it helped. So I split it into two pathways for clarity: one for modern mosaicists exploring expression and one for Roman copyists learning the strict rules.
• A Workbook teaching the “gold standard” of Classical Andamento — the cleanest, clearest version of the six key rules. It doesn’t go into Roman mosaics at all. It’s for anyone, especially beginners, who want to build solid foundations before branching off. It’s the kind of book I wish I’d had when I started.
• A Second Workbook that shows how Classical Andamento was used in ancient Roman mosaics — aimed at those wanting to recreate ancient work with historical accuracy.
• A Museum Guide that helps casual visitors see how the rules show up in original Roman mosaics — not from an academic point of view, but from the view of the hands that laid them.

And from there, plans for videos, live training, and a teacher’s pack — all radiating from the same core. All part of one gemstone, turned this way and that.

And I had to remind myself: I’ve done this for over two decades. The way I work now is second nature to me — but my students are seeing it for the first time. I was building really simple systems that work — but I was still trying to rush them through it.

I’d forgotten what it feels like to get lost early on and feel too embarrassed to ask.

It reminded me of being in my maths class at school, I lost the thread once, missed a key instruction, and never caught up. The teacher was terrifying. I didn’t dare ask her to explain anything again — so I just sat there, nodding, and drifted into a fog of confusion while everyone else (seemed!) to carry on without any problems.

I never wanted any of my students to feel that way. But by trying to teach too much at once, I may have created exactly that.

So I changed. I focused. And as soon as I did, I saw something I hadn’t seen in a long time: the people in front of me. What they needed. Where they were getting stuck. How I could help.

And the science backs it up. Research shows that multitasking doesn’t work. Deep focus leads to deep learning. And I’d add — deep teaching.

Mo Gawdat talks about using AI to offload the noise of intellectual work, so we can get back to “sitting around the campfire with our tribe,” doing the creative, human things. That’s what this process has felt like for me. Less chaos. More connection.

So if you’re a teacher — in mosaics, crafts, or anything creative — and you’re pulled in too many directions, try this:

Pick one thing.

Sit with it. Drill into it. Turn it in the light.

Because chances are, the thing you thought was just one small piece will end up being the whole damn jewel.

Thanks for reading.
If you’re curious about Classical Andamento or want to explore how these ideas show up in your own mosaic work, I’ve put together some simple resources and tools in my shop:
👉 https://roman-mosaic-workshops.ecwid.com/

(You’ll find things like the downloadable guides, and info about upcoming workshops.)

I’m also on Instagram @roman.mosaics if you want to say hi or share your thoughts. Always happy to chat with other creatives on the path.