Guiding Hands

There are angels among us, of this I am certain.  I actually met my Guardian Angel once, at the airport in Vancouver.  He's an older, well dressed, wispy haired gentleman with a soft, kind voice and an ethereal quality about him.  Remind me to tell you the story sometime.

This may seem an odd introduction to talk about my shop, but indulge me.  I've just spent hours cleaning and reorganizing the space and I'm not referring to the dark, dingy workshop in my basement (which remains in pristine condition following the purge in January, I might add.)  My shop is a bright, airy room in my garage that my Dad built as a place to do his wood working.  A lovely little work space, completely wired, full of windows and light, with lots of storage cupboards and great, expansive work surfaces.  My Dad was an amazing wood artist working in a medium called intarsia. Using different types of wood for colour and grain, he created intricate pieces that fit together precisely like a puzzle.  Before he passed away last year he said he was going to take the shop down.  I told him not to although I had no idea what I would use the space for.  When he passed, his equipment was given to friends as he had promised.

Fast forward a couple of months.  I have a friend whose husband was a beautiful stained glass artist. When he passed away shortly after my Dad, my friend declared to me that I needed a new hobby and offered me all of her husband's stained glass equipment.  I'd never considered doing stained glass but the idea appealed to me.  Doing glass work would be an expensive hobby to start from scratch but she gifted me with everything I'd need, including more glass than I could possibly imagine using.

I took a class and was hooked.  It was kind of like the intarsia work my Dad did with wood, or a quilter for that matter -- cutting and fitting pieces together to create something new.  My class project turned out good enough for me to want to hang it up on display.  Feeling pretty cocky, I decided for my first solo project to make my friend a gift to thank her for her generous gift.  I cut and ground the glass, foiled and soldered the pieces together, patinaed and polished the finished work.  It couldn't have turned out more perfect and I was proud to give it to her.

The secret of my early success?  I truly believe my Dad and my friend are with me in the shop, guiding me as I work.  It's comforting and I talk to them, sometimes out loud, mostly in my head, and always in my heart.

Now if I could only get them to pick up a broom or dust rag, I'd be all set.

On another note...Direct your eyes to the right, to #16 on my list of books I've read this year.  You won't find Chasing the Dragon's Tail in any book store or in any e-format...yet.  I had the pleasure and privilege to read this novel as a peer review for the author, Brock Clayards, my friend and former colleague.  It is a wonderful tale set in Victoria, B.C. at the dawn of the first World War.  I'll be sure to post when he publishes.