When I took my first stained glass class eighteen years ago, it wasn't so much that I had always wanted to learn how to do stained glass, I just wanted to get out of the house. My daughter was 4, my son was 12. For an hour twice a week I gave myself permission to be somewhere else, talking to other grownups, learning something new, making stuff.

About a year later, at the suggestion of my dogs' obedience instructor, I started doing pet portraits in glass and selling at local craft shows and dog shows.

The more I worked with custom orders, the more I felt the limits of what I could do with basic stained glass. Glass doesn't come in "brindle," for example, and I prefer portraits that are more representational than abstract, so my search for brindle glass ultimately led me to fusing. Now fusing is a whole other discipline entirely, and I could go on and on about it, but I won't. In a nutshell, it's fun to melt stuff. You can never be completely sure what you're going to get until you open the kiln (generally about 12 hours after you closed it). Every piece is different, and I'm always experimenting with new techniques and materials. (In the last few years I've gotten into traditional glass painting, and I'm enjoying developing new artistic uses for recycled glass.) I now often combine several techniques in the same portrait or project. Some portraits come out great the first time; others take 3 or 4 attempts. It's the challenge of creating something just so in a medium that changes as the light changes that keeps me at it. I love working with glass.

I do all of my work in my basement studio (aka "The Laundry Room") which opens conveniently onto my garden. I say conveniently because the my dog is constantly going in and out all day. (In the summer I just leave the door open.) Even with all of her busy comings and goings, she keeps an eye on me, reminding me when it's time to eat, or get a drink of water, or play tug. All in all, not a bad way to pass the time.