Glass of the Past

This morning the sun hits my latest work sitting in the window and I am reminded of some of the glass in my past.   

Broken windshields at the dump.  Sifting up the glass and letting it pour out of our palms slowly to the ground, eerily saying, “Jeeeewwwwweeelllllllsss” like pirates at a treasure chest.


Beach glass found on the shore.  Lunch bags full of it stored under my bed.

Shot glasses in Mexico.   Brown, green, and blue rims. Bought with my allowance money to add to my windowsill’s collection.

Glass, the material that pulled me full heartedly and passionately into a career, a business, and reminds me everyday that, yes, I am, an artist.


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