He pulls it out of a huge oven. There’s an orange ball at the end of his stick — it looks like a flaming sun. It looks dangerous. I wonder how hot that ball of glass is. He handles it delicately and efficiently, like he’s done this a thousand times. He probably has, he obviously knows what he’s doing.
He’s in a very industrial-looking room, surrounded by tools. He dips the ball into what looks like a big plate of candy, and swirls it around, and sticks it back in the oven. He pulls it out again and dips it in a cauldron, spinning the pole like a magician in a circus show. It’s true artistry, almost like a dance. I’m mesmerized.
He blows into the pole, and then swirls it around on the candy plate. And back in the oven it goes. He repeats the whole process. He spins the stick quickly as he manipulates it with giant pliers and a paddle.
The fireball is transforming into a work of art right before my eyes, but I still don’t know what it is. I watch intently, eager to find out.
He blows again, and spins, shapes it. It slowly opens up, like a flower blooming. Is it going to be a bowl? A vase? And back in the oven it goes. Obviously, if he makes the tiniest mistake, the whole thing is ruined. He is precise, and methodical. He shapes it again, pulls at the rim. A sprout forms.Oh, it’s a pitcher,I think, excited.
There’s a young guy who’s helping him. He tips a pole with what looks like a piece of stretched orange taffy onto the pitcher, and Eli manipulates it with a tool, spinning it around. He swirls it around efficiently, and turns it into a beautiful handle. And he shoves it back in the oven.
He makes a few more adjustments and the glass pitcher is complete. It’s absolutely gorgeous — swirls of striking color. It’s the kind of glasswork you see in the fancy art galleries and gift shops. I’ve always admired glasswork but never stopped to think about how it is made. It’s typically very expensive, and now I understand why.
When the video is finally done, I let out a long sigh. “That was thehottestthing I’ve ever seen,” I blurt out loud.
An old man cocks a brow and studies me curiously. I hadn’t realized I had an audience.
I let out a little laugh. “Uh, how are you? Buying some toilet paper?”
He nods and turns away, like I’m some kind of weirdo.
I love it,I write back.It’s absolutely beautiful. Thank you for sharing. :)
As soon as I get home, I store away the groceries, and check my phone. There’s another message.
It’s yours if you want it. :)
My heart leaps. He can’t be serious.
A little tricky to ship, don’t you think?!
—
Come over here and get it.
Oh no, he didn’t. He’s flirting with me.
Only 3,642 miles between us :(,he writes.
—
How do you know this?I ask.
—
I Googled it.
Oh damn, this is getting serious.
3,642 miles.
I gotta go.
I can’t do this right now. I need to get the kids, and make dinner for my husband.My husband.
* * *
I try to be a good girl and stay away, I really do. But unfortunately the urge is stronger than my morals. It’s pretty innocent, really. I just send him a video. I figure that if he shared his process, I should share mine too. It’s a short time-lapsed video I took a while back, of me painting — you see the image come to life right before your eyes, and it’s fun to see my hands moving a mile a minute. I’ve shared this video with countless people already. As a fellow artist, I know he’ll appreciate it even more than my friends did.
