Just about to start cutting glass for 4 tall lancets for a 19th century chapel. (Painting starts next month, and continues through till June.) About two-thirds of the windows we’ll cut from brightly coloured glass (vigour, energy, glow). The rest is clear glass.
And some of it is seedy.
Seedy glass – which reminded me …
A bone-dry hake brush takes time to wake up. That’s why, after I’ve rinsed it, I don’t shake mine dry.
Because we paint stained glass, what always happens is: designing and painting are the things we do a lot of, whereas a far smaller part of our time is involved with (a) cutting glass, or (b) assembling it in lead, soldering, cementing etc.
So let’s say we’ve got a three-month project whose design is finished: everything’s ready for us to start.
In between, it’s painting, painting, painting. Two months’ worth of painting (along with chasing new projects and preparing initial designs for later work).
Now painting’s great. Painting’s absolutely wonderful. But doing so much of it could easily make big problems for us elsewhere. The problems could be, our cutting and leading might suffer. Actually, this could easily happen.
And that’s why …
When I restore a broken piece of painted glass – restore it: so I mean when I “re-paint” it, not glue it, which I call “conservation” – there’s a big mistake I almost always make.
I say “almost”. Really though I should say “a mistake I always make – and then, just in time, I catch myself, start again, and do things properly”, thank goodness.
I want to tell you more. I want to – confess. But not just because my full confession may help you. (I can’t pretend I’m quite so selfless.) No, if I’m honest with myself, I’m fed up with this mistake I always make. It will be wonderful if, the next time I restore a broken piece of painted glass, I avoid this foolish error and get things right immediately.
So maybe – maybe! – by setting this down before your eyes, I’ll help myself.