My mother had a paperweight collection. They were all beautiful, the glass globes displayed on a glass topped counter in my parents’ bedroom. The biggest one though, lived in the living room. It was as big as a bowling ball. It came to us through my grandmother, who as a young girl of 18 brought it back from her European tour. I imagine the glass maker in Murano, Italy, getting up in the morning, having his morning coffee then going to his workshop to make this magical glass ball, trapping some of his life in it. My grandmother bought it and then it went to my Dad and then to me. Now my children put their faces up close to it and think it is like a world suspended in hardened water. It is a crystal ball with the past and the future entwined.
Oil pastel on paper, texted sintra
19.5” x 13.75”
Feb. 25, 2004