Blowing Glass

Before we came to Orlando, I had to come up with something to do on my birthday. (This is part of the deal for Birthday Week--no matter where we are, the three birthday kids, David, myself, and Sara, have to set the agenda for the day of our anniversary.) Having discounted the central Florida usuals (D-World, S-World, and golf), I searched the internet for what artsy stuff was going on in the city of Orlando.

"Keila Glassworks." That sounds interesting.

I clicked on the link (you can, too, at the bottom of this entry), hoping to find a cool hand-blown glass gallery to peruse and enjoy.

I found what I was looking for--and so much more.

On the Keila Glassworks website I saw a link to "Classes." Classes? You mean, I might actually be able to try my hand at this ancient craft? Yes! I clicked a couple more times, the heavens opened, I heard an angelic choir, and I found my birthday activity: getting a lesson in glass blowing and creating my very own piece. Awesome!

Charlie, one of the head honchos at Keila, met us at the gallery with a smile, a firm handshake, and lots of jokes about his long dredlocks ("this bear on my back"). He led us behind the studio to the work shop, where he gave me a tour of the process by which glass pieces (in this case, a drinking tumbler) are created. Then, with Sara and the in-laws looking on, he sat me down to do some of the hand work of shaping molten glass into a gorgeous, usable piece. Charlie's generous demeanour and genuine hospitality made our time there a joy.

Now, to be honest, I only did a little bit of the work. But, as Charlie told me early on, glass blowing is not something one can learn in one lesson. He said, "If I do 80% of the work and you do 20% of it, and you come out with a basic knowledge of how glass is made, then we've been successful." And that's about the ratio of effort: 80% Charlie, 20% Emrys (hm, maybe 85/15). But in that one-fifth of the process I got to feel how gentle and soft is molten glass; I got to test my hand-eye coordination by trying to shape a blob of glass on a rolling steel pipe; I got to feel how hot the glass really is coming out of the furnace. (I got a mild sunburn on my right forearm from being within ten inches of the glass while working it. The glass really is like lava.)

There will be pictures in future posts, since the peanut gallery watched and documented the whole show. (And they kept their heckling to a minimum.) But more important than the pictures--and even than the glass I now have as a souvenir--was the chance to set my hands to this ancient art, to feel the heat, to try the skills, and to learn first-hand about something that until Sunday was just a mysterious curiosity.

To Charlie, Meg, and Charles (The Second) at Keila Glassworks, great thanks. I raise my glass to you!

To y'all who are reading this post, I ask you for a favour. Even if you have a persistent distaste for glass (who on earth would have that?), help me in promoting the enriching experience of Keila Glassworks by clicking on their link below.

http://www.keilaglassworks.com/index.html

~ emrys