With a deep, steadying breath, she stepped forward. The heat was like a wave washing over her. Instantly her skin was wet with sweat, her clothing and few strands of loose hair clung to her skin. The first time she had been close to these ovens she had found it difficult to breath, but now she had learned to breath this painfully dry air.
“You need to heat the glass rod till you have molten glass to work with.” Klaro told her, his voice a calm, steady presence behind her. Keep to the outer edge of the mouth – no need to lose your hand on your first piece.”
Casa stuck the glass rod into the mouth, watching the end start to glow with the heat.
“Spin it in your fingers.” Klaro told her. “It will make the molten glass form evenly on the edge of the rod and not fall off.”
Casa quickly did as he was told, almost dropping the rod in clumsy haste. At first her fingers felt uncertain and she could barely keep a hold of the rod as she twirled it, but with focus she was able to both spin it and not drop it. She watched as a small blob of bright red, molten glass formed on the end.
“Now heat up the mandrel.” Klaro told her at some magical moment when she apparently had enough molten glass. “Make sure you will have enough room to work on the bead but you will need to be able to hold it. Be warned, the entire piece will heat up, but you will learn to get used to the heat.”
His warning proved correct. Even though the first two inches of the mandrel glowed red she could feel the metal under her fingers heat up. It felt terrible but was not to the point of hurting her fingers so Casa bit her tongue and forced herself to ignore it.
“Now what you are going to do is to bring the molten glass to the mandrel and spin the mandrel so it catches the molten glass.” Klaro told her what sounded like a ridiculously complicated process as plainly as if he were telling her the directions to a party. “The key here is to let the heat do the work. Don’t spin the mandrel to fast and don’t force the glass onto it. If the glass is soft enough it will work it’s way on.”
This was much, much easier said than done.
The first time the mandrel and glass met all that happened was she put a dent into the ball of molten glass.
“You took the glass too far out of the heat.” Klaro told her. “Keep the heat on the glass.”
The next time she tried a few strands of liquid glass found their way onto the mandrel, but instead of bringing the rest of the molten glass with them they broke up.
“You need to keep the spinning of the mandrel constant.” Klaro told her. “If you don’t the glass will either break off or you will get uneven globs in your work.”
Her third try got one rotation of glass onto the mandrel, but apparently she was not holding the mandrel steady because instead of wrapping over and starting a second layer the next coil landed next to it at an awkward angle.
“The mandrel cannot move unless it is in you plan it.” Klaro told her simply. “A small mistake looks massive on a small canvas. Therefore your hand must stay constantly steady.”
At that point Casa was at her wits end. She was surprised her fingers were not melting off, her back hurt from being over bent over in concentration, her skin was so covered in sweat she thought she was going to boil, and her eyes burned from the heat of the flames. With a half groan, half scream of annoyance she jerked away from the flames. Momentarily not paying attention to the molten heat in her hand, the mandrel brushed the inside of her wrist for just an instant.
The pain was so shocking from the touch of the red hot steel that she dropped both the glass rod and the mandrel. They barely missed her feet, but she wasn’t paying attention. As she gasped in pain she looked down and saw that the skin the mandrel had touched was instantly red and swelling. Her breath started to come out in short, gasping pants and tears stung her eyes as the pain started to overwhelm her, freezing her in place.
Suddenly Klaro was next to her, grabbing her firmly by the left shoulder and gently by the right elbow. In her panicked state the man found it easy to guid her down onto her knees where he then dunked her arm into the bucket of water he had waiting. The pain dulled as it hit the cold water, though she couldn't stop this hiss of pain that made it past her clenched teeth. Her head was spinning with many volatile emotions; humiliation at her overreaction, frustration with her inability to complete the task given her, fear that she had ruined her chance with this Klaro, anger at her faults, her weakness.
“I must give you credit where credit is due.” Klaro told her calmly, his eyes on the burn underneath the water. “You are my first student to not burn themselves on the first try.”
Casa looked up, starring at him in surprise. She could not believe the words she was hearing. He chuckled at her shocked expression. “Bead making, especially at the beginning, can be an extremely frustrating. Three failed tries before losing your temper and doing something stupid is quite impressive.” His face instantly turned hardened into a serious expression. “Now, what did this anger get you.?”
She glanced down at the bucket, her injury giving a particularly nasty throb in as she looked at it. “A nasty burn.” Casa admitted. She glanced over at where she had been working. The glass that had been red hot had melted onto the floor, the rest had shattered. “Everything’s broken.”
“Anger has no place here; it will get you nothing but broken glass.” Klaro agreed. “I hope that lesson stays with you.” He stood easily. “Now I’m going to go find a dek and tell them to clean this up. I expect you to soak that for a few more minutes and then go get it taken care of. I don’t want my apprentice getting an infection.”
Casa almost didn’t catch what he said. When it did catch up to her she leapt to her feet. “Really?” She gasped in excitement.
“Rule number one; you will not make me repeat myself!” He yelled as he walked away.
Casa watched him go, then bent down and stuck her hand back into the bucket. She was physically exhausted, her wrist was throbbing in time with her beating heart, and she could feel a headache developing, but none of it mattered. She was going to be someone’s apprentice. |
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by Casa on May 16th, 2012, 1:20 pm 
