Author's note:
Chapter 5 of 13. Thank you Tim413413 for selfless editing.
The Perfect Pieces - Chapter 05
"We'll start you with a suncatcher," I said excitedly. We were in my workshop and I had a willing apprentice. It didn't hurt that she was also gorgeous and liked the Grateful Dead. I went to the file cabinet where I stored patterns. I was way past using store-bought myself, but never threw them away. Sometimes they even offered ideas, things I hadn't thought of myself. I pulled out the simple ones, where the cuts weren't too complex and the project could be completed somewhat quickly. Nothing is worse than not getting that sense of completion on your first attempt.
"Okay," Amber agreed. She stood by my side as I spread out a bunch of patterns on the table. She picked a few to examine more closely. "I think I like this one," she said, holding up a flower pattern with five, almost heart-shaped, petals. Her smile told me she had cemented her decision.
"Now you need to choose your glass," I said.
"Already," she said surprised, "no lessons or anything."
"The best way to learn is to do it," I informed her as I moved to the boxes that held my glass. Some of the glass I had ideas for. Things I was going to make that would be difficult to part with. I looked at Amber's inquisitive face, those wonderful lips and I remembered how her eyes looked in the shower. Screw it, she was worth more than any idea. "Pick out the glass you want to use for the petals and the center," I said, waving my hand over all the boxes. The ideas fled for the moment. I could always find more. I pulled one box over on a whim. "There's a bunch of purplish glass in this one."
"For Lizzy," Amber said with a determined tone.
"For Lizzy," I agreed, nodding. Amber started going through the glass, pulling out and examining some of the sheets more closely before placing them carefully back in the box. I saw her eyes light up when she saw a foggy white sheet with smoky waves of purple meandering through. She had a good eye.
"Can I use this one?" she asked. Her smile already paid me for it. I had had visions of using it as the higher portion of a sunrise scene. Her smile was worth a hundred sunrises. I had never had something supersede my art before. It was a phenomenal change.
"It will be perfect," I answered. She was giddy when she kissed me. She wasn't feigning interest for my benefit. She was truly excited which, of course, increased my excitement.
"What do I do next," Amber prompted.
"You have to decide how get five petals out of it," I said, leading her over to one of the work tables where I usually cut my glass. I grabbed a piece of scrap glass on the way to give her something to experiment with first. "When you cut, you have to go from one edge to another and you can't make your curves too tight. It's not like using scissors," I instructed as I pulled out a cutter and uncapped a small well of oil. I dipped the cutter in the oil, placed the scrap on the table and scored the corner about an inch deep. "That crackly sound means you're doing it right. You don't have to push too hard, just listen for the sound." I grabbed some glass pliers and snapped off the corner easily, exactly where it was scored. I put the scrap back down on the table and handed Amber the cutter. "Your turn."
I was surprised when she dipped the cutter in the oil first. Usually, a new person would forget the simple things. She went a little slowly as she scored the glass, pushing harder than she needed to, but she did go from edge to edge. She looked up at me when she was finished.
"Snap it with the pliers," I said, pointing to the glass pliers. She carefully positioned the pliers and bent them until the glass snapped along her score line. It was like Christmas. Her face lit up as she examined the cut. "You're an expert," I exaggerated. She quickly tried a few more cuts to raise her confidence.
"What's next?" she asked impatiently. I couldn't believe how infectious her enthusiasm was. Glass had always been so private before and now I wanted nothing more than to share it with her.
"You have to cut out the pattern," I said, reaching for the copper foil shears. "We use these scissors and cut along the center of the lines. It creates a space for the copper foil that needs to go between the pieces of glass." I was getting so excited, I almost forgot pattern safety. "First, we need to make a copy in case something gets screwed up." I walked the pattern over to the desktop copier and ran off two copies - better safe than sorry. "When you work on something complicated, you actually have to label all the parts, but I don't think you can get lost with this since all the petals are the same." I handed the pattern back to her, and she began cutting. I watched as her mouth moved as she cut, almost as if she was chewing through the paper. Adorable.
"You're making me nervous," Amber said, smiling. I was standing too close, poised to jump in at the slightest error. I kissed her cheek and went to my own unfinished panel. I began setting up to finish covering the foil with solder. I plugged in my solder iron and retrieved the flux and a brush. I waited before starting, knowing she was almost done with cutting. It was a fairly simple pattern. A good one to start with.
"Now what?" Amber called when she finished. I hurried over with my knowledge.
"You glue the shapes on the glass," I said, as I reached for the glue stick. "Lay them out so you can liberate them from the glass separately. It will take many cuts to get the curves right, and you don't want the other pieces to interfere." I placed the unglued pieces down on the glass, shifting them so they could be easily separated by single cuts. "If you want certain color grains in the petals, now is the time to work that out." I watched as she shifted the petals around trying to maximize the purple in each petal while still leaving room for liberating cuts. She was a natural.
"Now glue them down," I continued when it looked like she was finished laying them out. "Make sure all the corners are glued down tightly." I reluctantly went back to my own work. Even a kindergartner knew how to glue so I resisted the temptation to help her with the first ones. I wanted to do all the work for her.
"Now I start cutting?" Amber asked. I almost went running over. I stilled my desire, knowing that the creation needed to be hers. She had to learn on her own.
"Yep," I replied, "first cut a petal free from the others, then begin to trim the excess, cut by cut. It doesn't have to be absolutely perfect - just close. The grinder will take care of the smoothness." I pointed to the grinder, a white boxy thing with a metal spindle poking out of the top. Amber nodded and moved the oil closer and grabbed the cutter. She remembered the oil. I let her work and learn on her own.
I walked over to my stereo system and plugged in my phone. I fired up the streaming, selecting Dido once again. The music started, Amber smiled at me and we went to work. There was something soothing about working with glass. It would be hard to explain it to someone who has never done it. The colors were wonderful and detail was implied, but never implemented. You never had to sweat the small things. A painter had to worry about every stroke. A sculptor, every cut of the blade. In glass, simplicity mattered. Errors were easily corrected and most problems could be avoided with adequate planning. The art lay in the choice of glass and how you laid the grain. Simple choices in my mind, more difficult for others.
I got lost in the work that some would find tedious. Tinning the copper foil with solder is not everyone's cup of tea. I found it soothing and the image of what I was creating always urging me forward. My brain would wonder and contemplate life. It also allowed me to forget that which should be forgotten. It was my meditation.
Her kiss on the back of my neck was a good sign I was lost in my work. It startled me, but I recovered quickly. I put the soldering iron in its cradle and turned my attention to Amber.
"I'm done," she said smiling, talking loudly over the music. I walked over to her work and examined the petals. Damn fine job for one's first cuts. I could tell by the scraps she had overdone the necessary number of cuts trying to achieve perfection, but experience would cure her of that. I walked over to the stereo and turned off the music.
"They're perfect," I said.
"I had trouble with the tops of the heart part," Amber explained, "I'm not sure it's right."