After six months of getting pummeled by failures in trying to cast glass sinks to fit an existing counter top that was forbidden by the client to be modified—even by a little, my partner in art got a nice reward. Along the path of these varied projects that we do, comes knowledge that you don't know how it will be used. One day, though, it all comes together in glorious fashion.

The Deep Sea Anemone Table

It's Great! There are few who could be more critical and discerning. Their observations mean a lot because, in one way or another, they've been there.

Or is it the other way around? Every so often, I receive queries in my mailbox asking about various topics. Today, I was asked a question about the path that I took and how it affected my life's work:

Next, we'll move into the process of creating the blown glass planets and Sun. The planets are supported by curved, hollow carbon fiber arms; the longest being 3 feet (1m), so the orbs must be very light. Just as in the Celestial Winds Blown Glass and Carbon Fiber Mobiles that we make, that have arms as long as 20 feet (6m), saving every ounce of mass that is way out on the end is very important. You're probably asking why we choose to pay that mass penalty when plastic could be used instead. Answer is simple:

A colleague in England posted today that he had a harrowing experience varnishing a painting when the varnish began dissolving some of the paints and started spreading them across the rest of his painting.

I've always dreaded the varnishing operation. You painstakingly coax every individual millimeter of a work to get them all to sing together in concert and it's finally finished. Then, you risk the whole darn thing on one swell foop by having to apply a substance that ubiquitously affects the entire thing all at once.

I ran across a couple of articles today, one by Paul Gilster of the Tau Zero Foundation on Centauri Dreams entitled Space Art: Reviving the Imagination and another by Jeff Foust of The Space Review on When Space and Art Intersect. It's really good to see the resurgence in this area in so many circles and I thought I'd take a little break from The Making of the 21st Century Orrery series and get back to my original passion that started all this — Space Art. That is, Space Art in the classical sense that people know it; 2D paintings.

Glass. It's captivating. It's mesmerizing. Attempted by many; mastered by only a few. It can be a harsh teacher. Working with it is exhilarating and humbling. It requires planning and intense concentration, while at the same time also requiring one to being open to the serendipitous. It's unmatched and worth every effort.

Now you can have one of your own. In blown glass, no less, with a flame and everything. This is the sixth in a series of Steampunk Rockets that has been a big hit. Who knew!?

We've got a couple of big ones that are really retro Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon rockets with bulbous bodies and curvy, super-pointed noses that will be coming along in the next few weeks. They'll be about 10 inches (24.4 cm) tall when complete. This latest one is 3-finned, 6.5 inches (16.5 cm) tall and is really cool; with ribbed fins and tiny oval windows.

I can't tell you how well received they have been. They certainly are beautiful, if I do say so myself. One sold to a friend and client just this afternoon. It's the purple cone shaped one in the top row, center of the January 26th post. We'll wrap him up and package him carefully and send him off to his new home first of the week.