My route to glass art has been a fascinating and convoluted path along many creative pursuits. Beginning with crayons on the bedroom walls as an incorrigible infant, graduating to watercolours or oils on canvas at around twelve, treading the boards at seventeen, video production in my twenties and thirties, heritage building renovation, 3D animation and design in my forties, and, at last, the glorious world of glass in my fifties.
One might think I’ve been a tad indecisive, but whilst sampling the spices of life, the accumulation of seemingly unrelated skills has turned out to be invaluable now that I have finally found my true vocation. I’ve always loved and collected glass; I was brought up only a spit from Stourbridge where I have fond memories of watching the blowers at work as a child. Alas, that was in the days when Stourbridge was in its heyday.
I was unexpectedly brought back to glass when tasked with designing a sculpture in steel and glass for a concept artist. I needed to better understand the glass making process in order to achieve the design, so observed some wonderfully talented glass artists at work. I was utterly captivated and there the obsession began.
I attended fusing and casting courses to learn the basics, but after I evicted the car from the garage and bought my kiln, my glass making skills largely emerged in the University of Trial and Error. Happily, some of the mistakes I’ve made along the way morphed into useful techniques. I’ve learned much, but I’m still a novice in the scheme of things and every day brings another delicious opportunity to experiment. I enjoy dabbling with diversity and indulging a myriad of ideas and styles – fulfils the nomadic disposition – but most importantly, a half century on this planet has determined the focal point of my real passion; the artistic representation of some the most fundamental, beautiful and threatened organisms on Earth.