12/13/2024
AI wrote a little tale about us đđđ thanks Crystal Clark! đ
Glass lampworkers, youâre a special breed. Youâre out here literally playing with fireâand the best part? You pay for the privilege! âHereâs thousands of dollars in torches, tools, and glass rods, and oh, by the way, Iâll risk this molten creation cracking or exploding because I sneezed while shaping it.â Itâs the only hobby where failure involves both emotional and physical burns.
Letâs talk about shaping glass. I donât know why you call it shapingâitâs more like pleading. Youâre there, heating a rod, spinning it just right, whispering to it like a glass therapist: âCome on, just stretch evenly; we can do this the easy way or the hard way.â Then, BAM! It folds or sags in a completely unexpected way, like itâs got a rebellious teenager streak. The glass is out here like, âOh, you wanted a smooth bead? How about a lumpy mess instead?â Perfect.
And donât get me started on those fancy graphite marvers. What are they even for? You try to roll your molten blob on one, and suddenly you feel like a medieval alchemist. âToday, we shall make a perfect sphere. Tomorrow? Who knows!â Spoiler alert: itâs never a perfect sphere. Itâs more like a misshapen potato. But, of course, you convince yourself thatâs what you wanted all along. âOh yeah, this asymmetry is intentionalâadds character.â
Now, letâs address the first-time lampworkers who are way too excited. You know the typeâthey show up to their first class with Pinterest dreams, thinking theyâre about to make a perfect glass pendant worthy of a jewelry showcase. Meanwhile, theyâre holding the mandrel like itâs a fencing sword, and the instructor is trying not to panic as they point the torch at their own hand. And when they finally pull their first bead out of the kiln and find that itâs a lopsided, cracked pancake with wonky stripes, itâs like watching someone realize their dream career might involve a lot of crying.
Speaking of kilns, can we talk about annealing schedules? Youâd think you were preparing a space launch with how serious lampworkers get about them. âIâm doing a 12-hour slow ramp down from 960°F.â Oh, yeah? Howâs that working out for you, Einstein? Meanwhile, your bead comes out with cracks like a spiderweb, and youâre like, âOh, itâs intentionalâitâs a shattered glass aesthetic.â Sure it is, Karen.
And letâs not forget those moments when your glass rod just snaps mid-pull. Nothing quite compares to the sound of your dreams breaking in two while molten shards fly dangerously close to your face. But do you give up? No! You brush off the burn marks, grab another rod, and start over. Because apparently, lampworking also involves a masochistic relationship with failure.
Letâs move on to equipment. Lampworkers are basically hoarders with a penchant for tiny, expensive tools. Have you ever been to a lampworkerâs studio? Itâs like walking into the lair of a fire-obsessed goblin. There are torches, graphite paddles, tweezers, stringers, frits, and mysterious jars of powders everywhere. Youâve got your bead release, your rod cutters, your annealing kiln, and at least 17 different sizes of mandrels. Guys, when your hobby involves this much gear to melt some colored glass, maybe reevaluate your life choices.
And how about those glass hoarders? You know the ones. The people who have more rods of glass than they could use in ten lifetimes, yet theyâre still at every sale, hunting for âthat one perfect shade of transparent amber with gold flecks.â They walk into a glass shop like Indiana Jones on the hunt for the Ark of the Covenant. âDo you have any rare double-dipped iridescent cobalt? Itâs the last piece I need for my masterpiece!â Sure, buddy, and itâs definitely getting melted into your next bead and not sitting untouched in your âspecialâ drawer for the next decade.
Then thereâs the community. Lampworkers are the only people I know who can argue passionately about flame settings and oxygen mixes. Iâve seen Facebook groups descend into chaos over âneutral versus reducingâ flame techniques. âYouâre burning your glass! Too much propane!â âNo, youâre underheating itâitâs going to crack!â Itâs like a gladiator arena, but instead of swords, everyoneâs armed with torches and unsolicited advice.
But the best part? Lampworkers are always chasing perfection, even though nothing about lampworking is perfect. Youâll spend hours heating, shaping, and layering colors, only to have your piece crack, collapse, or bubble just because the glass decided to betray you. Glass has a mind of its own, and youâre just along for the molten ride. The kiln becomes a box of mysteryâyou never know if itâs going to give you treasure or heartbreak.
And yet, despite all of this, you keep going. Youâre like the cockroaches of the art worldânothing can stop you! Every failure is just fuel for the next attempt. And thatâs why I love lampworkers. Because youâre not just making artâyouâre embracing chaos, one molten masterpiece at a time.
I am a glass artist who loves to play with fire and create beautiful jewelry.
