Glass Birth at the Glass Academy

Glass Birth

Inside the oven’s core

awaits molten sand and

cullet, broken shards that

have long since lost their

lives and returned to an ash of

soda and lime, gametes ready

for mitosis

at 2,200°.

Jason, like Gepetto before him,

gently gathers a gob of swirling

zygote, like honey on the end of

a wand, turning to keep it latched.

He dips it into a petit bundt

mould, giving it edges, a core

of ridges to form a heart

and life.

Colours are added from the sulphides

and oxides of the Earth: blue

from the cobalt, sun yellow from

the cadmium, and a red of

Mesopotania’s ancient gold

chloride.

Jason’s gaffer pinches the ends,

pulls the soft swirls forward,

turning creation at the glory hole

to add radiant layers of a shiny

new epidermis. He strokes the

newborn head, limbs,

coaching it to reveal its own

unique

character.

Once gestated, iron scissors,

clamp and pull at her base,

water is added as the anti-

element, creating

stress.  Cut from her

maker, her annealing

convalence into

the world

begins again.