Torch

We went to a glassworks workshop today in the hopes of discovering a hidden creative talent in making bowls and vases. Just in case being a lawyer doesn't work out. But when I got there and saw the big 2000 degree celcius ovens and the long poking sticks and the glass artworks on display, I got a little overexcited. We had only two hours to get things done.

"Okay," I said to the instructor, "I'm thinking of making at least two glasses that are about this size, and they have to be identical but I want them to have different colors, and also a salad bowl, maybe not the size of a superbig salad bowl but maybe more like a large cereal bowl, not a small one, and then I can't decide whether I want a vase or a cup depending on how much time we have left, what do you think? But if its a vase I don't want it to have those flappy ridges like flower petals because I like my vases just clean and sleek."

Our instructor was a young man who wore cool shades, a black singlet and tattoos on his bare muscled arms. He used to be a janitor at the workshop, and slowly worked his way up to become an artisan. He listened to my prattle patiently and said, "I tell you what. We're gonna make a big glass that can also be a vase. And then we can make a bowl that can also be a vase. And then we gonna make a cup that can also be a glass."

"I also want a paperweight," I said, pushing it.

"Okay. But that's gonna take a while. We make our paperweights seriously around here."

"Why?"

"We get hurricanes," he said with a big smirk.