With the auction for the original stained glass piece (12x18”) days away from closing (all proceeds benefiting BeLoved Asheville and World Central Kitchen), here’s a behind-the-scenes look at how I made the piece.

Originally created for Nora Shalaway Carpenter’s Spinning Toward the Sun anthology, published by Burlwood Books, the book is available now.

Sketches

As with any illustration project, I begin with rough thumbnail sketches.

Based on the client’s feedback, I then develop the sketches further with multiple rounds of sketches. For this project, the client liked the mountains of 7 with the sky of 3, with the addition of rivers/light spilling down through the mountains.

Once the sketch was finalized, I begin experimenting with different colorways. Stained glass makes this stage a tad trickier than with painting, as my palette is limited to flat colors (no gradients, washes, etc.). While glass comes in a wide variety of colors and mixtures (for example: deep blue streaked with green), I’m never 100% sure what I’ll find when I go to the glass shop or order online.

For this piece, we wanted to capture the energy of a fiery mountain sunrise: a strong symbol of hope as WNC rebuilds after Hurricane Helene. This we paired with the lush greens of the Southern Appalachians, with purples and reds forming transitions between the two. A striking opalescent—pale blue water unlit and glowing gold in the sunlight—threads between mountains and sky, representative of both the flood waters of Helene and the enormous outpouring of aid connecting WNC.

Finally, I begin creating the final stained glass pattern. Sometimes this can take longer than making the final glass piece (which feels silly to me). When creating a stained glass pattern, I often feel that I’m switching between two brains: one designing an illustration, the other cognizant that I actually have to make all these cuts.

Designing stained glass brings many more restrictions than designing a painting, for instance. Whereas in painting and illustration, tangents are to be avoided at all costs, in stained glass they add structural integrity and avoid small, thin bits of glass that are liable to crack when soldering. The more curves and solder in glass, the stronger a piece becomes, but I also need to be aware of hinge lines, how the piece will hang, and myriad other practicalities. But restrictions are an excellent fuel for creativity, helping shift my perspective to come up with creative solutions to challenges.

Glass Selection

Often I’ll spend a whole day picking out glass for a piece and making sure all the different colors, textures, and opacities work harmoniously together. For this piece, Nora joined me at the glass shop, helping me choose the colors she envisioned for the book.

Cutting and Grinding

I like to begin with the hardest cuts first (okay, technically scoring and breaking). That way, if I need to adjust or alter the pattern to make something work, I have the freedom to do so. Glass, especially handmade art glass (i.e. the really expensive stuff), often has ideas of its own. I choose to see traditional/physical mediums (glass, painting, etc.) as a collaboration with the materials, working together to create something beautiful. Therefore, I try to be flexible when it comes to, say, a curve that doesn’t break perfectly, or a particularly gorgeous pane that just…shatters. It happens. More often than not. But it creates a creative challenge for me, as well as an opportunity to see new possibilities. (Keep in mind that stained glass is assembled from the back, meaning that all the glass is texture-side down while it’s being made, to ensure the front is level and even.)

As I work, I’ll often switch out colors. The light gold in the sky was actually the second color I tried, as the first looked too dirty unlit compared to the bright oranges and reds of the rest of the sky. If you compare this to the original pattern, you’ll also notice that several of the tight curves in the middle have been broken up into smaller pieces. This was a practical choice. Glass always wants to break in a straight line, and the more you ask it to deviate from that, the trickier the cut will be. Therefore curves, especially small/tight curves, are the most difficult cuts to make without the glass shattering. But again, I tried to view this as an opportunity: to splice more color into the center and extend those lovely swirling sky lines.

Next, I cut and grind the mountains. Again, I begin with the most difficult cuts and glass. For the mountains in the middle ground, I use mostly scrap glass and experiment with several different pieces for each, trying to get the right flow of colors to balance the cool colors below and warm colors above.

Finally, I cut the opalescent “rivers of light” flowing through the mountains. I intentionally left these bits for last, knowing they’d be the easiest to adjust to achieve a tight fit.

At this point, I also check for any large gaps between the pieces. While a small amount of wiggle room is good, as it allows space for foil, I dislike big/inconsistent gaps between the glass as it interrupts the smooth flow of lines and distracts the eye.

Foiling

After thoroughly cleaning each piece of glass with acetone (and gloves) to remove any grinder dust and Sharpie, I renumber each piece (so that I can put them back together again), and begin foiling. For this piece, I used black-lined copper foil to match the final black patina. I enjoy foiling, and find it to be quite a meditative process (often done while watching Bake Off or Gardeners’ World).

Soldering

With all the pieces foiled and reassembled in the layout frame, I then tack them together with tiny dots of solder. This way, if I need to edit, repair, or remove anything, I can do so easily (because repairing copper foil once it’s been soldered is, to put it mildly, a real pain).

After removing the layout frame, I begin soldering. Starting on the back, then flipping to the front, I make sure that the solder completely fills the channels between each piece. Then begins the slow process of making sure all the solder lines are smooth and even, and that all intersections flow cleanly. Often I’ll spend a whole week doing this, until I’m happy with the final lines.

Cleaning, Polishing, and Patina

Now comes the fun part: cleaning and polishing! Fun mostly because it means I’m done. After thoroughly cleaning off all flux, Sharpie, stray beads of solder, etc., I apply black patina (with gloves) to all the solder lines. Then comes another round of thorough cleaning before doing the final polish.

Since this piece was going to be printed, my friend, the enormously talented Stephanie Sevilla photographed the final piece for us.

All in all, this piece took about 100 hours over roughly a week. I’m grateful to be a part of this amazing project, and to support charities that have helped us here in WNC so much. Hopefully it brings much light to its new home!