A broken Mason Jar, FULL of glass marbles, was my inspiration for this piece. Just jumped off the shelf, imagine that.
One down 20 jars, or so, to go.
Bought the vintage window in Orange, California with my sista friend, Alice. A fun day was had by all.
Lovin’ the glass heart porthole!
“Don’t think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It’s self-conscious and anything self-conscious is lousy. You can’t “try” to do things. You simply “must” do things.” — Ray Bradbury
“The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive. To him… a touch is a blow, a sound is a noise, a misfortune is a tragedy, a joy is an ecstasy, a friend is a lover, a lover is a god, and failure is death. Add to this cruelly delicate organism the overpowering necessity to create, create, create — so that without the creating of music or poetry or books or buildings or something of meaning, his very breath is cut off from him. He must create, must pour out creation. By some strange, unknown, inward urgency he is not really alive unless he is creating.” — Pearl S. Buck
Chutzpah is a Yiddish word meaning having gall … brazen nerve … effrontery… sheer guts… plus arrogance; it’s Yiddish and, as Leo Rosten writes, no other word, and no other language, can do it justice.
A little old lady sold pretzels on a street corner for a dollar each.
Every day a young man would leave his office building at lunch time
and as he passed the pretzel stand, he would leave her a dollar, but
never take a pretzel.
This offering went on for more than three years. The two of them
never spoke. One day as the young man passed the old lady’s stand
and left his dollar as usual, the pretzel lady spoke to him for the first
time in over three years. Without blinking an eye she said:
The best things in life are nearest: Breath in your nostrils, light in your eyes, flowers at your feet, duties at your hand, the path of right just before you. Then do not grasp at the stars, but do life’s plain, common work as it comes, certain that daily duties and daily bread are the sweetest things in life. ~Robert Louis Stevenson
The vintage window was a gift from my sister friend, Tilly Evan Jones … I think it sat around for a couple of years, until I finally decided to glue a bulk of my vintage glass collection to it.
It never ceases to amaze me how magically the pieces fit together and as an added bonus … it fit perfectly inside the guest bedroom window.
All you need is a sturdy window (or frame), mosaic tile & glass tools, safety glasses, vintage glass dishes (or otherwise), random glass pieces and e6000 adhesive to be glued in a well ventilated area.
FYI … Just so you know … when using e6000 adhesive … once you place the glass on the glass, you can shift it a bit but basically it’s over … live with it.
WARNING: ALWAYS wear safety glasses when cutting glass or tile and as a FYI … I do not recommend this project for kids.
The thrift store mirror just sat there (like many of my found objects) but this piece was like having a thousand pound elephant in the room and it taunted me. I suppose I could of hung it up but that would have meant attaching a really strong wire to the back and I never saw that item make the list.
After moving it onto the tile table (and off again) a dozen times, I surrendered to the zero inspiration but hope. At least I hadn’t broken it yet.
Then two dear friends coaxed me along by gifting me broken remains of their lives … Terri, a one armed porcelain figurine of a woman (Matilda) and Tilly, a box full of heirloom birds that flew out of her hands during a move. Amazed how that inspired me to let go of the death grip that I had on my sacred box of porcelain flowers.
The pieces magically (as they always do) found their place onto the border and were given 9 months to dry:)
Made a pact with myself that this piece needed to be grouted and hung before Thanksgiving 2011.
Decided on charcoal grout, instead of something much lighter. Prayed about my choice.
Took a handful of the black mud and pressed it into way, way, way to many places to turn back. Needed a second to compose myself after immediately getting that sick “OMG I picked the wrong grout color!”
Isaiah Zagar is an award-winning mosaic mural artist whose work can be found on over 100 public walls throughout the city of Philadelphia and around the world.
Zagar has devoted himself to beautifying the South Street neighborhood since the late 1960s, when he moved to the area with his wife Julia. The couple helped spur the revitalization of the area by purchasing and renovating derelict buildings, often adding colorful mosaics on both their private and public walls. The first such project was Julia’s still-thriving folk art store, the Eyes Gallery at 402 South Street and continues on for miles.
Back in the day, a few tile gypsies tried this on the streets of our historic little town of Jordan.
Interesting that the cracks in the sidewalks that were filled with treasures … testing 5 different kinds of concrete … popped up like toast after one winter. Hmm.
… and can you believe that people actually pried off the bits and pieces from the buildings with tools? Yep. True story.
I find myself dreaming about having a mosaic tiled backsplash one day:)
Then I ran across this Lowe’s mosaic tile video. Short, sweet and easy to follow …
Did you know that if you measure the backsplash area and cut a piece of 1/2″ concrete backer board into workable sections, you can arrange unique mosaic tile designs, glue the pieces, grout and seal the entire project on a FLAT surface. Wouldn’t recommend a 9 foot section but 3 foot will work.
Then all you have to do is attach the finished pieces, to the backsplash area, using the holes that you’ve pre-drilled and kept free from grout.
Easier on your back plus you can remove it and take it with you, if you choose.
The one constant is our insatiable need to try to fill every part of it, on a daily basis.
Not gonna happen.
Why can’t we just be happy with what we’re experiencing, while we we’re experiencing it?
I think A.A. Milne may have nailed it …
“Well,” said Pooh, “what I like best,” and then he had to stop and think. Because although eating honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn’t know what it was called.