Molten Glass and Falling Snow

Route 579 at 523

14 February 2015

"Your destination is on the left,"  Google Maps said.

Chris, in from Boston, exclaimed, "This is NOWHERE!"

We were almost at the top of Upper Creek Road, deep in the snow-covered woods, at 10:00 on Saturday morning.

We turned onto a gravel driveway to Don Gonzalez's glassblowing studio. 

We were greeted by his wife and a handful of well-fed cats, and later by Don, who led us back to the house to show us his glass collection, a hefty amount of which had been picked up at flea markets for a small fraction of their worth.

These are pieces he made:

Their kitchen light (from Venice):

The studio:

Although the class was meant to be for six people, Chris and I had signed on. I was nervous.  What if I did everything wrong?  What if I had no aptitude for this?  What if I just plain didn't like it?

What if I'd just shut up, relax, and enjoy the moment?

So I did, and it turns out that, for a beginner, I'm all right at this stuff.  I especially like pulling on molten glass.

Don is a good instructor, and patient.  He had us do most of the work, although he took over whenever there was something too technical for us to attempt.  We each made four pieces from clear glass today.  They're annealing now, so I can't show them to you yet.

Here's the studio from the outside.  It's on 5 acres, with a handful of sheep.

Don had left a pair of gloves on one of the ovens to keep the mice away.  Forgetting they were there, he burned them, and tossed them into the snow to smoke and cool.

Here's Chris in the early stages of making a piece.  She's about to blow a bubble into the molten glass.

Now she's shaping it.  This will be a bowl in about half an hour.

Another bowl, later in the day:

Hurricane Sandy threw a tree onto the studio roof, caving it in.  The furnace still worked:

The glory hole:

One view from the studio:

Stringers in a vase:

Frit:

Snow started to fall in the early afternoon:

Trees, downed by Sandy, still in the sheep pasture:

Juniper:

More glass in the studio:

We stopped at the Sergeantsville General Store on the way home because one pretty much has to, bicycle or not.  Then I took a detour up 523 so Chris could see the view at 579.  I don't think it meant much to her, but I'm glad we stopped:

More tomorrow.