Sage House Glass

Tag: writing

  • June Commissions & Happy Pride!

    June Commissions & Happy Pride!

    I absolutely love the way that summer announces itself in a wash of rainbows.

    My first commission for June is a perfect Pride coincidence. My sister and I were working at a market back in March when the patron “C” and their partner approached my booth. They loved the sunshine arch panels I was selling, but gave me the best feedback in the world: “Where’s the purple in your rainbow arches? If there was purple in there, that would be Pride. I would’ve bought them in a snap.” It was a brilliant critique–I hadn’t even realized my sunshine panels didn’t include a crucial color of the rainbow–violet. As a supporter of the alphabet mafia, but not a card carrying member, feedback like that was so helpful.

    C reached out to me on Instagram to commission a pair of sunshine arch panels with all the colors of the pride flag. We went through several iterations where the sun was drawn with a half smile, but realized it was too busy. The simple lines of the original sunshine arch paid homage to the textured glass, so we kept it clean.

    After a few weeks of conversation, and a delayed start from me–life can really get in the way of art, right?–the rainbow panels are polished and ready to head home with C. Here comes the sun, just in time for Summer storms. Below are a few more images of the set before I wrap them up for the journey.

    As June winds down, I’ll be adding several pieces to a storefront in Asheboro, North Carolina, called Minkology. I’ve been working to create a Summer-inspired collection for the storefront, all butterflies and flowers in pastels. I’m very eager to do a write up about that process, so more to come about that. I’m so excited to one day walk down the street and see a piece of mine hanging in the windows of a store–that’s truly the dream!

    I’m also looking forward to July commissions–I’ll be designing some new pieces and working outside my comfort zone with new soldering techniques. I’m working on a pair of Romantasy-inspired bookends for a patron’s birthday. I’ll possibly be repairing a sentimental set of glass pieces for another lovely person I met at a market. More to come on those commissions! And if you’re interested in a commission from me, please reach out via the website or my Instagram and we’ll get it on the books.

    Happy Pride, everyone! And happy summer break, to those who have kids out of school. As a children’s librarian by day, this is our busy season, so please be kind to your local librarians–we’re in the trenches!

  • Recreating Home: The Emotional Power of Stained Glass Art

    Recreating Home: The Emotional Power of Stained Glass Art

    My earliest memory of being enamored with stained glass comes from my childhood home in California. The house was owned by my paternal grandfather, built in 1959, and the front door had a stained glass panel of a bird flying through cattails in an ocean sunset scene. The light would carry the rippling sunset hues down the entryway and across the hall.

    My family and I lived there during my formative years, from early grade school through junior high. I can reconstruct the living room from memory. I have a vivid nostalgic recollection of sitting on the extremely brown couch (all furniture was extremely brown in the 1990’s) and watching the colorful refraction from the stained glass window as it moved across the carpet. I loved watching light move as a child. It’s a largely known fact that our generation had the best kid’s television, but watching light dance was a pretty popular pastime for me. It seems like no matter what era we grow up in, times will always be “simpler then” in regards to our collective upbringing.

    I’m not sure I’d be able to recreate the stained glass panel itself from memory, but when I think of home, that’s always the first image that floats to the surface. Dancing motes traversing beams of faded orange light. It evokes that comfortable feeling of “home” that’s so elusive as we grow older and move from place to place.

    Due to deeply regrettable circumstances, we moved out of that house in the early 2000’s when I was in high school and my grandfather chose to sell it. My family still lived in the area so it was easy to drive down the street from time to time and track the incessant “flips” that seemed common for that neighborhood. I moved to North Carolina in 2015 but whenever I’m back in town visiting family in SoCal I’ll take a tour of the area and it always leaves me with that specific heart ache.

    From a cursory glance on Zillow today, the house is still various shades of beige. They removed the lemon tree from the front yard, for some unimaginable reason. When we lived there, neighbors had free rein to pick lemons from the tree whenever they wanted to prevent an abundant crop from going to waste. I’d like to believe the flippers removed the tree because it was old and rotten instead of the more likely scenario that sharing free food with the community wasn’t in fashion. The gorgeous climbing hibiscus bushes are also suspiciously missing, but there’s no accounting for taste. The front door was removed long ago, replaced by a more modern silhouette you might find at any Lowe’s hardware. I’m not the first person to complain about the atrocities of snuffing out beautiful unique fixtures in older homes, but I can’t imagine what I would pay for a door like that today. Like all ephemeral things, it’s a priceless memory now.

    There are so many places that will only live on in our memories. Someday I might have the ability to recreate that stained glass panel from old pictures if I can find them, but I’m not in any hurry to try. What I’m able to achieve with the stained glass pieces I’m currently designing— it’s bringing that same feeling from my memories to life all around me. My home is filled with that same light, diffused through colorful glass, dancing along the floor and the walls, alive and ever-changing as the sun moves across the sky. The feeling of “home” comes back to me with every piece of glass art I hang in the windows here.

    It’s the same feeling I’m hoping to bring others with my stained glass art. I’m still that stereotypical artist that’s flattered beyond human comprehension that anyone might want something I’ve made, but more than that, I’m honored by the opportunity to bring light to someone’s memories through my art. What a cosmically amazing thing. So thank you to anyone who has ever purchased a piece from me, big or small—it’s truly an honor.

    And please, with love and kindness, if you have a stained glass panel in your door, keep it.

  • Gratitude for Sisters, Our Biggest Champions

    Gratitude for Sisters, Our Biggest Champions

    I want the first words that fill this space to be about my sister. Anyone who has a sister will tell you they’re your best friend and most cutting critic, but mine has never been anything less than endlessly supportive and without judgement.

    My sister is a stunningly talented photographer. It’s more than just a business to her; she sees the world through a Kodachrome film. Anything can become a beautiful photograph in her hands, that’s what makes her so gifted. She doesn’t take for granted the way the setting sun hits the tops of buildings in an abandoned alley, or how delicate a flowering weed looks emerging from a crack in the cement. She looks at the shapes of the clouds. She watches for the light diffusing through branches in the trees. My sister is mindful of the beauty all around her, and that’s helped me to see it too.

    She took nearly every picture you’ll see featured on this website and that’s honestly the only reason I have a website at all. The self-esteem she conjured by taking the most amazing product photos of my glass art gave me the gumption to even start my small business. And more than that, she’s my business manager, my go-to market partner, my product stylist, AND she’s got the big car to fit all the tables, chairs, tents and market supplies. She helped me make my first Etsy account, she drew my first logo, she made my first sale when I was too shy to speak.

    She also held my hand through the worst periods of my loss. She encourages me to pursue my art, in whatever form it takes. She’s a constant passenger, along for the ride wherever I may be going. She’s the Anna to my Elsa. I have a lot of sisters I love, but she’s the sister I chose. I’m grateful for all she’s done and for everything she is.

    If you’re reading this and thinking “wow, I’d love to have a photographer in my family to document my life, bolster my self-esteem, and be my greatest cheerleader” then I’m sorry, she’s taken. But if you live in North Carolina, you can still hire her for product sessions, weddings, parties, real estate photography, and practically anything else under the sun— reach out to SavvyBPhotography. She’s a real girl’s girl, so don’t be surprised if you suddenly become best friends and addicted to having her camera along to document every occasion.