There’s an old blues song that sums up how I feel about my life as an artist:
My studio is in the beautiful Puget Sound region, which is also the center of world class glass art. I blow glass on an island and on the way to work I look for whales in the water. I taught glass making in public schools for over twenty years and occasionally hold glass workshops.
I began blowing glass to make roundels for my art glass panels. Soon I was blowing glass for the excitement of creating glass art objects and the intense color. When I drop color onto a clear bubble, it flows over the surface and the glass just comes alive.
The photo above shows glass while it is still hot. I knew the colors I used and had an idea of what it would look like. But the colors aren't revealed until after a long slow cooling. When I develop a new series, that eight-hour wait to discover what works means lots of glass ends up in the recycling bin.
The Sedona Series was especially difficult because it uses so many colors that all melt at a different temperatures. Green quickly runs like water with relatively low heat, yellow moves slow like molasses with very high heat, and every other color is between these extremes.
Glass blowing takes a team to manage a heavy lump of glass on the end of a long pipe. I have a great team. We calculate every move and anticipate the torque of the weight. I work the initial clear glass form. An assistant blows and helps shape it. Another prepares the colors, designs and lip wrap.
With so much going on at the same time so quickly, it seems like a choreographed dance of crossing paths between the workbench and the kiln.
When a piece turns out perfect, I see it the next day and I think:
