New work on the way.  Getting ready for Show/Sale November 19 & 20- 11am to 4pm

Me, shaping glass at the bench

Balls to the Walls

Blow Pipes and Puntys in pipe warmer

The ends of the pipes are perfect at an orange glow….not too yellow, not too red.  

Today was a “balls to the walls” (B2W)  kind of day in the studio. 
Big macho energy….mine.  
Big fresh ideas….mine.  

My B2W attitude brings me more of what I already know.  It is big and tough and not to be messed around with.  I think it’s what it takes for me to step up to my ideas.

Not today.  Not recently.  

And less and less is this attitude of bravado working for me.  I can be grateful to see how the competitive rush- that I rise to so easily- is loosing it’s edge.  That the strategies that chop and cut- sharp and definite are not taking me to where I want to be.  

Just because B2W got/gets me through some interesting jaunts and intersections, it isn’t much of a journey.  It is, like I said, big and tough, and today… it led to “floor models”- a term coined by the person who taught me how to blow glass-Ed Broadfield.

Notice the plural of “floor model”?  This is one….  Of a few….  That I dropped today.



Today I blew glass.  

I sculpted glass too.  

Massive equipment using huge amounts of electricity and gas. 

I struggled with the newness of the environment, the different temperature and quality of the glass, the heaviness of the annealer door, the furnace door too.  The height of the marver, the height of the bench.  New to me and yet not new.  It feels foreign and familiar.  A skill that I reacquaint myself with like riding a bike.  Sort of.  But 2100 degrees.

Struggling today, until the very last piece, in which I felt I was beginning to get my chops back.  Gather right on center.  Blown out with the first breath.  No fighting the temperature.  A centered punty which let go of the piece with the slightest tap.  And the annealer door didn’t feel like a ton of bricks to lift.

Tomorrow is a new day- fresh with a returned skill and most likely ideas from my sleep state tonight.

I think of Susan Ford, who I apprenticed with in Mississippi, everyday before work, she would light a candle and say, 
“I thank God for everyday that I get to blow glass!”

Bates Beach

With the urgency of the surfers running down the steps racing out to huge, loud, tubular waves.  
As the chill of the Pacific cuts against my shins.  

I turn my back to the sun and excitement and feel a deep familiarity rise up through the shadow cast before me.  

The hang of the arms and hands.  
The tilt of the head.  Or the same haircut?  
Weight on one leg.  
A pointed toe digging in wet sand, especially in the movement….
I notice….
Me meeting me.

In the shadow today on Bates- 

In a photo taken 46(?) years ago- 

A future 46(?) years from now.

Me meeting me.

One Hand and The Other

To be here -present- in my breath feels a luxury to me on one hand and on the other……
The other hand, muscular from use -strong.  The one willing to reach out to the wild horse. The one that can snap it’s fingers crisply and sharply without thought.  The one that gets “R” done.  

On that hand I place my judgement.  I set it high, where it can see the full stage.   Cringe with the discomfort of what drama unfolds. Chat, cough, “uhhhhum”, unwrap candy wrappers, text, laugh where it wants, not budge- while the one hand gets full stage.  Deep breaths.  All the way to the belly. Many deep breaths.  Deep breathing.  FINALLY!  (Notice which gets the last word!)