Back to the Glass

I need to continue my work on stained glass, so have taken a class from a new studio - not because I didn't like the first one (I did) but because they didn't have classes available that fit my schedule. Besides, I think it's helpful to learn from a variety of instructors.

This studio uses a different approach to cutting glass. I was previously taught what I now know is called the "English Method" which uses a Sharpie marker to trace the template pieces directly onto the glass. In this new method, we cut the template out of bristle board and then cut the glass using the bristle pieces as a guide. The theory is that this will result in a more accurate cut.

Pencil Cutter showing the cutting wheel.
This scores the glass so it can be broken
cleanly,

Different types of glass cutters. They all
have oil reservoirs to keep the wheel lubricated.

Cutting out the template pieces is an extra step, and I can see how if one was doing a copper foil project it might result in more precise cuts, but with lead came I'm not so sure (the lead is more forgiving, since the channels can cover a small nick or chip on the edge of the glass). Anyway, that's they way they teach, and that's what I'll do.

My last project was composed entirely of straight lines, so this time I'm looking for curves. I've chosen 4 colours of glass (yellow and three shades of light purple) and also some clear textured pieces.

Our instructor is very specific about how each piece is cut (has to be perfect) and every single piece is ground (which was different again from how I first learned; namely to grind only the pieces that need it).  Even with these stringent guidelines I end up having to recut two pieces (the half moon and the clear texture on the upper right) since they just don't fit correctly. 

Curving the came is not too difficult, and things are going along quite well - until I reach the top of the "flower" and piece number 5 decides to give me a hard time.  It takes some fancy grinding, but eventually we come to terms, and it and the came decide to work together! 

pesky piece #5

After some reshaping, the lead and the pieces
finally fit tightly together

The pieces are held in place with horseshoe nails and it's very important to keep all the pieces pushed tightly together since the whole panel is sort of a spring-loaded "puzzle".  If  the nails don't stop the pieces from moving, it's possible for everything to slide out and that would mean starting over (which would be heartbreaking).

After all the pieces and the lead came are in place, it's time to solder the joints.  The solder gun is plugged into a rheostat to keep the temperature from fluctuating. Each join is "fluxed" before it is soldered. Flux is a chemical compound that helps the lead and the solder bond together.

Solder gun and small cup of "flux"

My soldering technique is nothing to write home about, but it'll do.  Eventually the joints are all soldered (to the instructor's satisfaction), putty has been added to all the edges of the lead came, and the whole piece has been polished with "whiting" (powdered calcium carbonate; a safe inert fine white powder) to absorb the oil from the putty and to polish the lead and the glass.

finished piece

soldered joints

It will take a couple of weeks for the putty to totally harden, and at that point the panel can be lightly washed, and the edges cleaned up even more.  But for now it's done, and I'm feeling confident that curves and I can work together.  

Hopefully spring will arrive soon and
the leaves outside the window will be green!

Next project - a stained glass window for my bathroom (a project with an actual use).

A Pause

My creative bug journal (and journey) has recently been about concrete works and examples, and less about reflection - which is not necessarily a bad thing (productivity and all that) - but perhaps this is a good point to pause for a moment.

I've explored many different avenues over the past year - my first post was April 1, and I had no idea where I was headed.  Since then I've explored silversmithing, drawing, watercolour pencils, flower arranging and stained glass.  There's so much more I want to try - actual watercolours, acrylic, more drawing, oil painting, mosiacs, more silversmithing ... now that I've started, I can't seem to stop. How fun is that!

So in this (brief) intermission, I thought I'd share a few quotes and ideas about creativity and art that speak to me.

From Leonardo da Vinci: "Art is never finished, only abandoned."

Pablo Picasso has many expressive thoughts including: "Art washes from the soul the dust of everyday life."
and
"Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist after he grows up."

Some others:

"Remember the great adversity of art or anything else is a hurried life."   Robert James Waller

"If you can't make a mistake, you can't make anything."   Marva Collins

"Creativity is a natural extension of our enthusiasm."   Earl Nightingale

"What art offers is space - a certain breathing room for the spirit."  John Updike

"All true artists, whether they know it or not, create from a place of no-mind, from inner stillness." Eckhart Tolle

"It is the spectator, and not life, that art really mirrors."  Oscar Wilde

"The artist is not a different kind of person, but every person is a different kind of artist."   Eric Gill

And finally, from Picasso:

"God is really only another artist. He invented the giraffe, the elephant, and the ant. He has no real style. He just goes on trying other things."

from the web: National Geographic (giraffe/elephant)
 and M.Plonsky (ant) with original copyright God

Here's to trying other things!

The Challenge of Cherries

Dry on Dry Technique - that's what our next exercise is about.  And cherries - not Bing (which I think might have been an easier project), but Rainers ... grown in the Okanagan, excellent for eating; challenging for drawing (in my estimation).  That's because the skin colour is a yellowish red blush when ripe, and for us that means layers - lots of them, and pencils - lots of them also.

I'm saying this now - and I want to go on the record - that one or two cherries would have sufficed.  But no - we get a bowl full (insert appropriate Erma Bombeck book title here).

Again, we're not drawing the cherries from scratch - we transfer the image to our hot press paper, then the layering challenge begins.  Each cherry will have seven colours - starting first with yellow - everywhere.

After two different shades of yellow, we move on to the mid tone colours which will be orange and red-orange.  The colours are feathered on lightly, and as we move away from the light course the shading can become a bit heavier.  They don't really look like much at this point, but I have to have faith.

About this time in the process I am starting to doubt my ability/patience to complete this project.  Each x!# cherry takes a lot of time ... it seems to be a process that can't be rushed. I'm also looking longingly at my brushes and water ... with just one fell swoop, my cherry could be complete - shaded, blended, game over.  But no - it's a technique we're learning ... and so I persevere - lightly shading, shading, shading ...

When I began, I was planning to do each layer of each cherry before moving onto the next one.  But I see now that actually completing one cherry, with all it's many layers, has some benefit.  It establishes the darkest tone, and makes the other relative tones easier to see.  

So finally I move onto the "local colours" - two different shades of red (numbers 421 and 142 in the Faber-Castell watercolour pencil palette) and I lightly sketch in the stems because I'm feeling crazy!

It's now days in the making, and as the cherries outside the bowl loom before me, I feel a sense of something ... it's not peace, really, but it is a contentment of sorts.  A sense of wonderment, and a bit of satisfaction, as I actually see these little lovely pieces of fruit come to life before my eyes.

During the process of shading the many layers, my mind is totally focused and is almost in a meditative state.  When I put down my pencils to take a break, I feel rested and rejuvenated.  Wow.  For the first time in this whole endeavour, I like the artistic process.  It's not necessarily that "I get it", but I do get something ... and I'm enjoying myself.  So here they are - my cherries completed (with the addition of the "dark accents" - number 263 for those of you following along).

This would be a good time to call it a day ... but for the bowl and shadows. 

"But I love my cherries - I don't want to wreck them."  No matter.  Time to face the monster head on. Courage. Be bold. Just draw the darn thing.  So, armed with my Blues (#63 and 247 for the edge of the bowl), I press on.   

Here it is.  That's it.  Rainer cherries in a bowl.  Done.