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Phone: (604) 500-5158
Address: 26004 Fraser Hwy #3, Aldergrove, BC V4W 2Z6
A New Book Celebrates the Exquisite Patterns and Glowing Colors of Glass Maestro Lino Tagliapietra
Lino Tagliapietra: Sculptor in Glass, a new book published by Monacelli, an imprint of Phaidon, chronicles the story of the artist, from apprentice to maestro to one of the foremost glassblowers in the world, surveying his extensive career with hundreds of photographs of his captivating, luminous compositions.
It is not miraculous. Only a handful of silica, fire,
and then the blower twirls another knob of gold
on his metal pontil, dipping the tip into a pot
inlaid with spikes to make the burning globe
twist in upon itself as the man breathes out
and a thick neck bulges, wreathes into a spiral
like a unicorn horn; but we’re bored, he’s
bored, blowing and blowing the same shape over.
It takes no effort. He stares off through one
of the factory windows as he does it, beneath a sign,
No Flash, a red line drawn through a cartoon camera
to indicate the work is private, dangerous.
The man’s tongs pinch out a chest, a neck, the crowd
applauding each development though it has seen
the same thing around the corner.
We know what will come next. The man
reaches into the bright elastic to yank
a fat neck forward, to pinch out hair, a shovel-
shaped face; to pull out one thin, bent leg
and then another, the glass itself now tinged with ash
as the fire runs out of it, dimming to topaz,
caramel. He splashes water on the irons
to make them smoke. It must be dangerous, this
material, or why else would we watch?
The blower has a bald patch, earrings, scars.
He dips his tongs once more into the figure
and out come back legs, a tail. The neck twists
and now the little face has a mouth that’s open,
screaming. The tail’s curled filament starts to thread
as the pontil pulls away. You want to say
“like taffy,” but don’t. It is not sweet.
Only a spark of heat and then the inevitable
descending numbness. Someone laughs.
Someone takes a photo. For a moment, the room
fills with light behind which we hear
the scissor’s dulling snap.
Our senses return stretched thinner, fine.
We can almost feel the shattering of the glass.
Her skin is the temperature of absolute zero, her hair burns all oxygen around her - though your lungs will be first to burn from the inside, her dress hurts eyes to look at, her steps can melt rocks. I didnt say a name, but she popped into your head, didn’t she?
Being on the asexual spectrum and watching QSMP is just constantly cheering as more and more characters get confirmed to be somewhere on the aroace spectrum
Sokka: You'll get this commission, I know you will
Zuko: You're only saying that because you love me and love makes people stupid
Sokka: That's not true! At least loving YOU makes ME smarter. Like how I loaded the dishwasher properly last week
Zuko: You did. I was so proud of you
Head cannon:
Zuko is a glass sculpture artist, Sokka is a robotics engineer and they live in the same set of flats. They have a rivalry and hate each other due to misunderstandings, pranks and usual neighbours stuff. But after breaking his leg and being pretty much housebound due to an out of service lift, Zuko becomes his unwitting baby sitter. Well... after annoying each other every day and slowly becoming friends, they grow closer and closer. Yes, enemies to friends to lovers!
Scene above, Zuko is having a wobble about a big art commission he's vying for and needs Sokka to bring him back around.