Setting up shop (2/2)

by **Alexandra Gainsborough** on February 13th, 2018, 3:21 am

47 Winter 517

Returning to the kiln would not be an easy task, days had past and all thoughts would be of the past both recent and distant. What had happened days ago was something beyond what Alexandra had expected from the city, but was it the city or was it herself? In the end it would not really matter, fear had begin to set in. Fear could cause people to do many things. Some would fight taking the task head on, others would turn tail feathers and run, run fast and run hard, others still would remain in place frozen in place like an icicle hanging from a rain gutter. Mustering the eventual courage to leave she would muster the courage to return and see what may be waiting, to see if that tiger that tore her to shreds one day was actually just a normal every day house cat.

After making her way back to Kalea's Kiln, the wonderful place set had set up shop her heart began to race. A burst of adrenaline would start to quickly move through the pathways connecting every part of her being. Her senses would sharpen just as the hair on the back of her neck would stand up. With the first few quick breathes her hands began to tremble and her legs started to feel like bags of lead. Taking a moment she would close her eyes and take a breath, in her nari tongue "Nothing will stop me, only slow me down. I am like the wind unyielding and patient." With that she opened her eyes and steadied herself.

Moving once more she stepped forward and down into her workspace. The space seemed so small now, unlike how it appeared in her minds eye with walls extending into the black abyss. The small table sat next to her kiln turned makeshift glory hole with 4 glass containers sitting in a row, one sentry absent from his post. Cocking her head to the side she moved closer to the table and scanned each piece of glass that remained. While the work was not her best it was still something she would consider good enough even if just marginally. They were also much more uniform than she recalled from the last time she was here. Letting out a little sigh her heart began to slow once more and the tension started to fade from her muscles.

With everything in the room being so right what could she do but get ready for another day in front of the flames. Moving a few things around Alexandra would ready the kiln and start the fire once more. The bricks were still mostly in the right places save for a few that would need to close the hole. Scanning the rest of the room Alexandra noticed something catching the light on the backside of the room. Slowly stepping over to it she would soon find the last missing glass vial shattered on the ground. She hesitated while taking a deep breath as a few quickly flashes played in her head. The first being the moment she turned to see her teacher and she sent the glass flying across the room narrowly missing him. The second was his face superimposed onto another's quickly shifting back and forth. Lastly her thoughts were of the room around her cold and dark, as it extended out into infinity. She would float up out of her body to see herself laying against the void curled up and sobbing. Shaking her head she blinked and again in nari said "focus" softly to herself. Forcing her body to start moving again she crouched down in front of the glass and started to pick up the larger shards using care to lay each one in her hand. She started with the larger pieces laying one after another into her open palm before moving onto the smaller ones. Once she was satisfied that she had gathered each and every visible shard she stood up again and moved over to the table looking to find the others. Setting down this lost solder next to his brothers she said "broken but not lost". Taking care to set it in its rightful place she smiled softly.

by **Alexandra Gainsborough** on February 17th, 2018, 3:36 am

This would be the point she would go and check on the fire. The glow and the color seemed right but would the glass have returned to its more liquid state? Pushing a couple bricks out of the way she moved as close as she could, the fire began to turn her skin red and it would start to ache but she knew it would only be for a few seconds and the heat never bothered her anyway.

The shine on top of the crucible had changed and this would lead her to believe that it might be ready to work. Heading back to the table she would grab a skimming tool and reach it into the open mouth of the kiln, she would push the tool into the glass and watch it deform with a little pressure. She was still unsure of the correct consistency but this seemed good enough, she pushed it, it moved. Taking the two steps back she would set the tool back down and look for her blow pipe.

"I should take a moment to better organize next time" she said rummaging through her things for a moment. With each thing she touched she could make sure it was not tangled up by another tool but finding the correct one would take a moment, good thing she would only need a few. Finding her blow pipe she would test it, but first she tuck her upper lip into her mouth quickly moistening it sucking on it gently before letting it reappear as the more full lower lip took its place. Pushing her lips to the pipe she would expel a quick, short puff of air from her lungs and watch the dust on the floor dance up catching light every now and then.

The blow pipe was clear and usable, something one should always test before getting to far. Closing here eyes she took a deep breath and moved the blow pipe up as if she was readying it for something. In truth this would have been exactly where she would need to be in her old home, two steps forward and she would have the end of her pipe in the flames, a third and it would be in the glass. Here however this was not the case so she opened her eyes and with a swift fluid motion she took a few steps forward dipping the pipe into the molten glass. She began to turn it slowly as she gathered glass on the end of the pipe. "Constant motion" she would mutter to herself in her native tongue while she slowly spun the pipe. Gathering the glass into a perfect ball took time, diligence and a keen eye each things she felt better with this time.

Once the material was gathered she was ready to pull the ball out of the flames. Her boots seemed to glide across the floor as she slid back the three feet she needed to be clear of the kilns flame. Taking a few quick breaths she would siphon in a large breath and lick her lower lip moisening it once again. A single quick breath would be all she needed to expel before slipping her thumb into her mouth. She would seal off the hole at the end of the pipe before pulling her lips away and drawing breath again. The stories of the past seemed to ring in her mind again knowing that to draw breath through the pipe would spell death for anyone.

Quickly she would resume the spinning before she chocked up on the staff. The ceramic shaft shocked her as it was much cooler then she expected, heat did not move up as quickly as it had with the tools she trained with but without losing a beat she began to swing it back and forth. The rod would move up to her shoulder level then back down just missing the floor in front of her before making its way to her left shoulder level. It would quickly dip down again to her feed and back up to her right. Three times she would do this until the mass elongated then cooled to a point where it would no longer move. Back into the fire the mass would go now finding a new shape.

by **Alexandra Gainsborough** on February 17th, 2018, 4:57 am

The color of the glass would slowly change as the heat slowly embraced the solid turning it into more of a liquid. A small smile would tug at her lips while she worked at trying to keep a constant rotation. Musing at the thought of how glass is like youth. We all begin as a lump of nothing. The world around us tries it's best to change us from what we are into something it desires. Motivation changes the outcome of the final form but some bit never change, the glass will carry on its impurities sometimes adding wonderfully unexpected thing to the final product while other times it would only cause it to fail. If the artist was to eager they would have to fight to try and form the idea they started with. In the end have nothing but a crude representation of the idea they beat into submission. However if they took the time needed to sculpt what they were after the possibilities would be limited by only the artists abilities.

Somewhere along the train of though she had slowed and as her eyes refocused on the mass she realized it was starting to wobble. It had become off balance but it was still something she would attempt to save. She would turn the blob and let gravity take hold pulling it closer to the soil beneath her feet. It would take some time before it would even out again. A slight twist in the glass made the shape look rather odd but rather then scrapping the piece she would make use of it.

Reaching out as far as she could Alexandra was just able to reach her tongues. Anyone who walked by at that very moment would probably wonder what was going on as she stood on one foot. She kept a firm grip on the pipe with her left hand while the tips of her fingers pulled the tongues closer and closer on the table. Getting a firm grip on them her foot dropped to the ground and she pulled the pipe out of the fire pressing it gently onto a brick sitting on the floor. Only a second or two of this as she slid her hand down the shaft and pulled it up off the brick. As if in one motion her other hand came up with the tongues and gripped the molten glass by its now flat base and gave it a gentle twist before dropping the tones to the ground. With both hands firmly on the shaft she slid everything back into the fire.

Again she would think about youthfulness. The glass was like someone in lust. The warm embrace of fire would make the glass turn red as the first sign of heat. As time went on the glass would melt, go limp and be weak in the knees. If things continued down this path it would become lost in a pool of nothing not knowing where it began and where it ended.

With these thoughts she would keep her wits about her and make sure to keep the glass spinning. Pursing her lips she slipped her tongue between them, her best attempt to dampen them. The warm dry air contained in her workspace made this difficult as it sapped the dampness from anything around it. Her saliva felt thick and the warmth coming from the kiln would not aid her but she continued forward pushing her lips up to the pipe and giving it another quick puff of air.

The air quickly expanded pushing out the thin walls of the glass with little resistance. Alexandra had to be sharp to get the shape she desired before the vessel blew out but with a few quick movements it was not an issue. A few more trips into the fire and this one would be ready to join the others on the shelf.

by **Alexandra Gainsborough** on February 17th, 2018, 5:57 am

Hours would pass like minutes as Alexandra lost herself in her craft. This was something she could easily get lost in and not even realize. Once she had a few more pieces however she looked at them all set up in a row. The shattered one sat in its place in line with the others.

Well that just would not do she thought and gathered up the pieces. She would set them on another tool and head over to the fire dropping the shards into what was left of the molten glass. "I can not mend you but I can make sure you become something else." The petite women said in her native tongue.

Sealing off the little access hole with fire brick she waited for the glass to melt once again. It wouldn't be to long but this did give her some time to sit and ponder a bit. After a short time she had an idea so she would begin to move her tools around in preparation. After gathering the needed tools and getting the mold ready she began to slide the bricks back and away revealing the opening once more.

Taking her blow pipe again she dipped it into the glass and slowly began to twirl it around. Carefully she watched it slowing when she needed to push the lump down or speeding up when she needed to move things up. Eventually the mass was round enough to work. Pulling it out of the flame she reached for some shears and trimmed away the extra material before moving to the heat again.

She was left with a small but of glass narrow and long. Once up to temperature again she thrust the mass into a mold making sure the corner was fulled. This would be critical to her now, this shape was everything. Pulling back and removing the glass from the mold she was left with a point. Moving quickly she made her way to the first glass bottle she crafted and pressed it down on top quickly and firmly before quickly pulling back. Quickly she headed to the fire and began spinning the shaft again.

Stoppers is what she was missing. She would have to make one for each but that would be how she would honor her lost piece. That day showed her a lot and even if she had not processed all of it she knew that she put a bit of herself into everything and in this moment a bit of her fear and anger would go with each of her pieces to help balance out the joy and peace today would bring. One after another she would make each a topper.

Soon after she would let the fire die down and get ready to close up for the day. Each of these would find a new home in the coming days, some were spoken for while others had yet to have a master waiting for them. She knew each would find a proper place in the city just as she would.