lo and behold

“Lampworking allows me to be a ‘writer’ or ‘poet’ or ‘painter’ in glass because it is possible to give so much detail precisely.” - Gianni Toso

Many, many, many years ago, I got an MFA in poetry.  I struggled with actually calling myself a poet, but I spent 2 years of my life practicing, and it was a very worthy endeavor for me.  I had a few poems published (the first was actually published BEFORE I got the MFA which had been a wild hope for me – I was immensely proud and excited when it happened. ) And then, I started to write for money,  and I had children, and yada, yada, yada; I haven’t written a poem in years.  Unless you count making beads . . . .

I have described my attraction to working in glass as going from “black and white to color,”  and in some ways, it feels like an 180 degree turn in my creative life, but look at that, Maestro Gianni Toso thinks it’s pretty much the same thing – and suddenly, I totally get what he means:  the small form, the compact canvass, the weight on each word, as on each drop of glass, each minute spin or tilt of the mandrel.  It’s the same practice.  Getting into the zone and making something small and perfect. 

The quote came from the Carlisle School of Glass in an email I got last week.  They are hosting a class with Toso, what they are calling a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.  I didn’t even know who the guy was, but I gotta love someone who can talk about language and glass that way.   Turns out he’s a glass master from seven generations of Murano glass masters.  And he’s Jewish – or at least he makes ceremonial Jewish glass art, so I assume he is.  That’s very cool, to me. 

Here’s how the class is described: 

This class will focus on developing each student’s personal glass language by building a vocabulary of glass techniques, and exploring its use in developing one’s personal glass language. 

How awesome does that sound?  I’m not going to take it; it’s very expensive, but even more so, I don’t feel ready to take a class with a glass master.  But maybe I should . . . .it’s probably filled by now anyway.

In the meantime,  I’m going to remember that quote and think about it often, let his words guide me.