sifting through pebbles to find softened and dull, tumbled pieces of glass is my favorite way to relax. sitting at the very edge of the lake with the waves continually moving the pebbles and soaking my legs, deafened by the sound of the water and focussed like a hawk on the beach, is my perfect escape. i've carried home countless buckets of glass. glass that could be hundreds of years old. they are so lovely and each one is entirely it's own. i store them in mason jars piled in my front porch, corners of the living room, in the bookshelves, at the studio......anywhere i can stash a few jars. i used to catalog them by date, enclosing a note in the jar with the date and what the day had been like. but what i really want to do is gather the glass, and although i cataloged for years, that extra step became bothersome. i can usually sit by the edge of the lake well into october without being too cold. and the last few days have been like summer so it's perfect. but i remember gathering glass on new year's day once.....the lake must have stayed open that year. and in winter when i crave the touch of the glass and it's music, i pile glass on the dining room table or in a big basin and run my hands through it, finding special little pieces. visual and tactile.
Giving Up Acrylics But Not Playing It Safe
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