Lesson Zero

I call this lesson zero because it really wasn’t meant to be a lesson, but rather a visit to meet an artist who might consider taking me on as a student.  After researching glass studios in Michigan, I called those less than an hour from my home.  Most just referred me to their website for a list of classes.  Given my irregular work schedule, attending a class that met at the same time every week would be difficult.  I pondered my options, trying to re-arrange my schedule so I could sign up for a class, but it looked like it just wasn’t going to work out for me.  Then, I found Baron Glassworks. When I called studio, the owner answered.  Her name was Annette.  For those who know me, you know I am partial to that name.  It belonged to my mom, to whom I owe everything, and perhaps the only right-brained member of my family.  Naturally, I wanted her to be my teacher.  Annette told me to stop by her studio sometime so we could meet.  Not wanting to seem to anxious, I waited a full 15 minutes before calling her back and asking if now would be a good time.  "Sure!" she said.  I hopped in my car and headed her way!

I knew nothing about glass, and had no idea what to expect when I arrived.  After introducing myself to Annette, we talked for a while, she showed me around her studio and I watched her work with a few other students. Seeing my unbridled enthusiasm, she quickly realized she was stuck with me as a student and began capturing every teachable moment, directing her words of wisdom not only to her apprentices, but also to me, the apprentice-wannabe.  Like the newbie that I was, I held onto every word like it was gold.  I must’ve looked like a hungry and penniless child who just wandered into a candy shop, and, the goodhearted soul that she is, Annette couldn’t resist giving me a piece.  “Would you like to make a something?” she asked. She wasn’t going to have to ask me twice.  I have been waiting to hear those words since I was eight!

First, a quick safety lesson: safety glasses are a must, hair must be pulled back, never wear acrylic clothing, never walk backwards in the studio (this is harder than you would think!) and never pick anything up off the floor; it is likely to be sharp, hot or both! After a few dry runs with cold tools, we grabbed a pipe and headed for the furnace.  Given the inherent dangers of this process, she guided my every move, standing beside me, directing my grip on the blow pipe and, even more importantly, standing in front of me as I approached the furnace of molten glass.  Looking inside it for the first time, I could almost believe she had stolen for herself a piece of the sun. Now, just a few feet away from a blazing vessel of molten glass, I was going to steal a piece for myself.  She guided my pipe into the vat, dipping and twisting it into the viscous fluid, and, soon, I had a glowing orb at the end of my pipe.  It was beautiful! She walked me through the process of blowing my first bubble and dancing with gravity to shape my first piece.  In the end, we marvered and blew, jacked and paddled, and, in the end, she succeeded in taking me through the steps necessary to create a glass.  AMAZING!  

Armed with a healthy respect for the process and a basic understanding of what it would take to gain even a basic level of competence, I signed up for my first private lesson.