A long time ago, someone described my creativity as "a bit touched, but in a good way." Well, I have to agree about the "a bit touched" because I do have a warped, dry sense of humor that sneaks sideways into sculptures at times. This is one of those times.
If you could see me torching, you'd get it right away. I have a small artist's mannequin that I pose, but she's a stubborn piece of wood with funky joints and won't always stay posed. Even if she did stay posed, the truth is that the glass determines a lot of the shapes itself. Since I don't have three hands, I don't try to hold the mandrel with the glob of glass *and* re-pose the mannequin. What does that leave? It leaves me! Yep, I can stand up, move my legs this way or that, pose one arm while holding the mandrel of glass with the other hand, and even hold up one hand and move it into the desired shape. And I'm sure the fly on the studio wall is getting a darn good laugh at my contortions!
That little studio fly on the wall is often holding her breath, hoping I won't stick my hand into the hot glass to readjust a glob, too! Seriously, if you've ever melted glass, I'll bet you know the feeling. There are times when you get so involved in what you are making that you almost forget the flame is a FLAME and that it is VERY HOT and that the glass you'd like to nudge just a bit is SO HOT THAT IT IS MOLTEN. That's when the tiny voice in the back of your mind starts screeching and reminds you that you can't just nudge a bit of molten glass with your finger (although, I've heard some people say they've used a fingernail tip...sizzle, sizzle, flaming manicure).
All of that was on my mind when I made this Figure in the Sculptor's Hand. It's also a sly reminder that a glass artist works on the fly, without much chance for major revision after the fact. Now, there are glass artists who have the patience to reheat and mend cracked beads or sculptures, that's true. It's also true that I am not one of them...exploding glass is usually my result. For me, the sculpture in the flame breathes with life but can't be touched, taunts me with its choices of flowing this way when I'd like it to flow that way, sings a song of grace but shies away from any accompaniment, and makes me want to grasp it if only for a millisecond! Can't do that, can't do that, can't do that.
Sooooooooooo, I sculpted it-- sculptor's hand, lovingly cradling her creation, holding it this way and that. My warped way of seeing the world, sculpted in glass-- a bit touched, but maybe in a good way :)