Before I sail too deep into the blogosphere with you, there’s something you should know. When I’m not parking cars at the Hotel Murano, I can probably be found in the workshop/garage belonging to the father of Tad, my best friend. I like to weld chunks of steel into abstract shapes and call them sculptures. And, though none of my work is quite ready for prime time, if you really, really, really want to see them, I’ll see what I can do for you.

The point is, these sculptures are heavy, chunky and virtually indestructible. Yet, here I am in TACOMA, the blown glass capital of, like, the world or whatever, pursuing an art form that is pretty much the opposite of everything glass stands for. Glass art is pretty, delicate, translucent and ethereal. My art is frankly brutal, sturdy, opaque and earthbound.

So, here I am in Tacoma, zigging where the rest of the (working, paid) art community is zagging. Go figure. Hold on, I’ve got to get back to work….

Comments Feed