Hot Mess Part Fifty-Three: Nothing to Lose

 

Iron Maiden helped me with this one.

11 January 2026

After a few weeks off, we were back at it this week. 

Loading the car on Tuesday night for Wednesday night's trip ended up being more complicated than I'd planned. First, I had to put one seat up for the carpool. Then, after loading the plastic poster tube I use to hold my pipes, I discovered a trail of tiny glass shards all over the blanket I have that covers the bed of the car. I pulled the tube out to look for a hole in the bottom, and in doing so, irreparably jammed the telescoping upper section into the lower half.

There was a hole in the bottom. In a hurry to leave the studio on our last day in December, I must have put the punty in the tube before it had thoroughly cooled.

There was glass in the car, in the driveway, and between the hallway and back door too. When was the last time I'd emptied this tube? There's always a thin layer of residual glass on the pipe even after it's cool enough to pack away. Over time, the pipe cools more and the glass cracks off. That's why it's in a tube and not sitting out. The glass has a tendency to fly off the pipe. I've been dinged a few times.

Because I transport my bikes when I'm not transporting my glassblowing tools, I had to be thorough with getting the tiny flakes off of the blanket and driveway. Then I had to find something to use to contain the pipe tips while my new tube was on order. Fortunately, a friend had given us a small, square tin of cookies for the holidays. I wrapped the pipe ends in foil and rested the pipes in the tin.

I met GGP and Low Key in Yardley late Wednesday afternoon and drove them down to East Falls. They set up on the middle bench before I knew what was going on, leaving me alone on the bench closest to the door. Part of me took it personally, but then I remembered that GGP doesn't like the far bench.

I didn't like it in the beginning either, but now it's where I'm most comfortable. Sure, it's the longest walk from the furnace to the bench, but that helps me not try to shape the glass too quickly, which is something J2 told me to do when using this glass. Anyway, they were set up in the middle and I was by myself on the end, waiting for Iron Maiden to arrive. He's always late because he's coming from work.

I put some rods in the color box and laid out frit to work with while the rods warmed up. I wanted to experiment with a three-color combination, and I didn't care what happened.

My mantra for the night was "there's nothing to lose."

It was relaxing to be off to one side, with nobody watching and nobody waiting for their turn.

Low Key jumped in to help me transfer. I decided to practice pulling and trimming the lip. I always mangle the top when I do this. Iron Maiden arrived as I was finishing the un-mangling. The lip was still thicker than I'd have liked, and slightly uneven. The color reaction I was hoping for was mostly on the bottom. The punty didn't come off cleanly either; it left a deep gouge in the bottom. But the gouge is out of the way and not sharp. I've been using this as a drinking glass since I brought it home on Friday.

Iron Maiden put rod in the box and told me to go again while his color heated up. I picked up two pieces of rod sequentially. One was a color I dislike, "Hot Pink," that's too fleshy for my taste. The other was from a scrap pack, a light violet. "I have nothing to lose," I told him as I twisted the colors together.

One problem (among so, so many) that I've been having is that, as I'm blowing thinner with this new glass, the bottom of my pieces are also thin. I asked Iron Maiden to bring me a bit for a "button," a little glob of clear to work into the bottom to shore it up for the punty. 

Things went sideways as I was opening it up after the transfer. One side began to bulge when we were paddling the top flat. Iron Maiden apologized for pushing too hard with the paddle. "Eh," I said, "Nothing to lose. I'll swing it out."

It looked like it wanted to be a straight vase. Some of the punty came off  with the vase when we put it away. No problem. I could grind it down later.

Once upon a time, Pumpkin Master was using the flat wheel sander in the classroom. He ground the bottom of his uneven piece for a bit, looked at it, and said, "This thing has more planes than the Philadelphia airport!"

That's what I was thinking when I was trying to sand this one straight. I started grinding it one way and changed course. When I got home, I realized it was still wobbling. I didn't like the thing enough to bring it back to the studio and pay for more time on the sander, so I dug out my Dremel and a hand-held sandpaper holder and went at it for a while until it was finally stable. Turns out that a diamond-coated drill bit held sideways does a good job removing extra planes.

To make things even funnier, on today's ride, Rickety complimented me on a cup I'd given him for Christmas. "You're getting better," he said  "You didn't even have to sand the bottom flat. It was perfect."

"That one was from last semester," I told him. Then I explained the pink thing.

I still don't like the pink thing. The shape and color are icky. But, as Our Instructor used to say, "Someone will love it," so it's down on the discard section of the display case, among a growing number of other pieces whose color, shape, or weight isn't working for me. None of those pieces are good enough to give as presents, and now that there's no student sale, I'm not sure what will happen to them.

I made Iron Maiden go twice. Then it was my turn again.

Canary Yellow. I've now used up an entire rod at East Falls and have nothing to show for it except two failed floppies, a messy planter, and a cracked drinking glass. I picked up another piece. "Nothing to lose," I told Iron Maiden. I have two rods of this color.

This piece was at least a decent shape, even, and thin. But another of my many problems reared its head: when I went to fire-polish the punty mark, the bottom began to crack. I put it away quickly instead. The vessel stayed in one piece. At home, I ran some adhesive along the crack to be safe. So, technically, this one was a fail too.

For my last piece, I put Iron Maiden to work. I taught him now to load a bit of glass with frit. I showed him how I shape the bit into a point, then handed it back to him. He got the bit droopy hot and brought it to me. I guided it around a clear glass core, a freehand thread. We did this three times, each with a different color. 

It was late and I was getting tired. I looked at what I had and decided I had nothing to lose by attempting a giant ornament.

That was fun!

Over at the middle bench, Low Key was working with rod and GGP with a pumpkin mold. I didn't get to see what either of them made. Low Key is very good with creating swirls from two half-rods at once. GGP has figured out how to use a mold with this glass.

At the far bench, M was guiding a family group through paperweights and cups. I hadn't thought about it before, but giving someone help verbally is so different from having one's hands on a student's pipe and guiding their hands as they use the tools. "It's like blowing glass backwards," I said to him later. "Upside-down and backwards," he replied.

I'm having enough trouble rightside-up and forwards, thank you very much. This is why I roll my eyes when non-glassblowing friends tell me I could teach this stuff.

Anyway, even though what I made on Wednesday is still not what I was able to do last spring, I had a good night. I hope I can have some more as I continue Wednesday nights through January. I have nothing to lose and a whole lot of color to get rid of.