The Ornament I Blew Myself

For my birthday, my sister gave me a glassblowing class at a small studio near the river. I'd never seen it done. I didn't know I would fall in love.

The furnace was as hot as the sun. The instructor gathered a glowing orange blob of glass on the end of a long steel pipe and handed it to me. "Blow gently," he said, "like you're cooling soup." I blew. A small bubble appeared inside the glass. I gasped and almost dropped it.

We turned the pipe, shaped the glass with wet wooden blocks and wet newspaper, and added swirls of blue and green. It took an hour to make one lopsided ornament. It had to cool overnight in a special oven.

When I picked it up the next day, it was the most beautiful imperfect thing I'd ever made. It hangs in my window, catching the morning light and throwing little blue spots across the kitchen. I've signed up for twelve more classes.