April 14th, 2020 | 1 Comment
A friend writes to me, wanting to buy a gift for her sister, some earrings I’ve made, but she’s not sure what I have in stock, so she needs to describe a design. She wonders if I have a pair of “simple, faceted glass beads in green, amber or blue.” I spin through my wares on the spinner rack in the studio, and there, yes, one pair tinkling in the sun seem custom-made for her sister: simple, faceted glass in green *and* amber *and* blue. I wrangled them a few weeks ago on a March day I remember—it was the kind of dark gray day (you know exactly the kind) when you grit your teeth and say it’s going to be okay, it’s going to be worth waiting for, it will take some time but it’s not the end, spring is coming, darn it—a day when biting sleet turned my dog Luke and me into popsicles as we hurried out trying desperately to find any bits of daylight between storms, bits that sparkle here and now in these earrings in April weather (I call it Lukewarm weather, as he lies undaintily spreadeagled on the porch). Just past Luke I see the sun beams down through spring trees in faceted cut-glass patterns in green, amber and blue.