Legend has it that every 500 years,
the crimson and gold feathered Phoenix
builds a huge nest of cinnamon and myrrh
in a tall tree, close to the sun.
Once the nest is complete,
the bird sings one final beautiful song
before the sun’s rays ignite both nest and bird.
From the ashes, a newborn Phoenix rises.
I don’t always live it, but I do believe it. We are presented with myriad opportunities for ‘rebirth.’ Each moment offers us the chance to choose and thus opens the door to new experiences. More often than not, these opportunities go unnoticed. It is not until we are faced with a catastrophic fire, and live through the flames that we are able to be ‘born again.’
It was at a local art show in 2003 where I happened upon a booth of boldly colored fused glass and picked up a flyer advertising local classes. One workshop later, and I was hooked. For about a year, I continued to create out of a studio in Eagle, Idaho until September of 2004 when my husband presented me with a kiln and start-up supplies for my own studio.
What I’ve noticed about my experience as an artist is that my critical perfectionist self must go up in smoke in order to fully live in the creative moment, and I have to be the one to light the match. It’s a painful process, but so worth it.
I am driven by the need for creative expression. When life gets busy, and I go a few days without running my kiln, I find myself experiencing withdrawal like symptoms. I once told a friend that my studio is the only place where I can lose myself. She replied, “Perhaps that is where you find yourself.” She’s right. It’s in the journey of choosing colors, cutting the glass, piecing it together and anticipating what it will look like when it comes out of the kiln that I find myself happier, more open to new experiences, more aware of the world around me.
In my studio, I lose that sense of chaos, and urgency that seems so prevalent in my life as a working mom of 3 teenagers. More and more, my work illustrates this. I gravitate towards simple, gentle lines suggesting peace and serenity. I continue to grow as a fused glass artist, experimenting frequently and delighting when a new idea works. When it doesn’t, I throw the piece into my ‘make-over’ pile for future use in a mosaic, and then… like the Phoenix, I add another stick, and a little more cinnamon to my next pyre of rebirth.