"Has Anybody Seen My F-I-N-G-E-R-S"

HAS ANYBODY HERE SEEN MY F-I-N-G-E-R-S ?


Is there any other art form that offers such possibilities to the latent masochist?

The pianist may occasionally stub a finger; the painter poke his eye with the end of a brush; the ceramacist, In a feeble effort to compete, drop clay on his foot; - but the opportunities for mutilation to the worker in glass are limitless.

Like a Bolshevik in a bomb store, the simplest reflexes are invested with hazard:

A normal kitchen reaction - brushing crumbs off the table with one's hand will, when applied to glass crumbs, provide you with multiple puncture wounds of a span and variety that leave you breathless.

Gazing myopically over a score that you are simultaneously tapping can propel you into the center of everyone's attention in almost no time. While one colleague hunts through your eyeball for glass spray, another can bandage your hand, while a third - if you have been adept enough - can apply a tourniquet to your leg. This Tinkers-to Evers-to Chance technique is almost uniformly successful, and oddly enough, applies almost exclusively to individuals who do not appear to be nearsighted at any other activity.

Just the simple act of bending over can be an artistic triumph, especially if done in front of the glass bin where the corner of a large sheet is peeking forth. With luck, you can practically sever your seat from its moorings and the oohs and aahs of envious fellow-workers will alternate with the splashing in your socks.

But, really, you don't have to try for excess; a major display such as that is obviously show-offy, really can only be done once, and, after all, what can you do to top it? Multiple minor injuries are the order of the day, done with style and classic precision such as:

1. Cut a piece of glass in a perfect square. It looks great. But you can't resist running your finger around the edges to make sure they're really smooth. THEY'RE NOT!

2. You can't decide what color to use in a window. Hold several up to the light for inspection. They won't do. Place them on the table, one on top of another. Select others. Put them on the same growing pile of different sized rejects. Eventually, you will have a beautiful weapon which only needs a slight nudge of the table to set in motion. This particular technique not only can satisfy most masochistic urges, but since you may decide at the last moment that it is a little too drastic, you can solve your exercise problem for the day as well.

3. You are removing a large sheet of glass from the bin. It presents a long crack, which is almost-but-not-quite complete. You know you can get it to your table before it falls apart. A sort of race against time. Man versus glass. Sporting blood.

4. Hidden deep within the scrap glass box is that one particular piece you need to complete this project. You can only see a corner of it. Don't bother to clear away the covering pieces. After all, time is short. So are your fingers.

5. Though the top bin requires a small stepladder to select from it adequately, man's arm was built to stretch. The glass of your choice comes out smoothly and firmly in your careful grip, while its neighbor transfixes your skull.

But it's not only glass that can be employed. Many practitioners of self-destruction prefer the soldering iron. Grasping it firmly by the hot barrel while pretending to look in another direction is a favorite ploy which provides the additional advantage of being able to present to an appreciative audience variations on some of the latest dance steps. (Hot solder under a fingernail is a pale imitation of this technique, but one which has its adherents, nonetheless.)

Probably the most advanced method was introduced by the individual who reached for, and drank, his flux instead of the glass of water by his hand. He just had time to say: "How delicious" before going into spasms.

But I think what really scares me is the formation of a pattern that trails ghost-like beyond the studio walls. After all this, to relax with a quiet glass of beer at home AND CUT ONE'S TONGUE ON THE JAGGED RIM seems unfair beyond protest.






This was taken from "The Glass Workshop", Jan./Feb. '69, Vol.l, No. 1, published by the Stained Glass Club, 482 Tappan Rd., Northvale, NJ