Small world

I went into Glass Reunions to talk about impact glass -- they just put in their huge new windows, and we're putting in our small ones -- and found myself in the middle of . . . a glass reunion.

Of course, Kim Sprague (on the right) was there; she owns the gallery. But so was Heather Clark, the stained-glass artist. She was picking up two pieces of exquisite gold-opalescent glass, on the counter in the foreground, that had been one of Kim's bowls until UPS cast them asunder.

The last time I'd run into Heather, she had her marvelous window of Peter and Wendy's night flight in the back of her pickup, showing it to friends around town. Later that day, to avoid running into someone else, she hit the brakes, hard, and the window went a bit asunder itself.

Today Heather was thinking about grinding the bowl pieces down a bit to use for parts in a flat piece, or using the whole pieces as big fish tails because they're so wonderfully wavy and fan-shaped, or using smaller chunks in something else -- the sort of free-form thought you'd expect.

She went on to describe several potholes on what Ira Gershwin called the bumpy road to love, and I wondered whether ground glass might be appropriate for the date who stuck her with a sizeable tab at Virgilio's: Slip that into your espresso martini.

But glass is great for other statements, too. I think I sent my friend Lou a pair of dichroic-glass earrings from Kim for her birthday a few years ago. This year I sent her a little stained-glass world by Heather that I'd found at Kindred Spirit (now shuttered, alas).

Heather remembered that Lou sent her a note about the small world: "I was having a really awful day, and I got the sweetest message from her. It reminded me why I do what I do. A kind word really makes the difference sometimes."

She and Kim are planning to make a difference with the mosaic Alfa by giving it some badly needed TLC. That car is right up their alley.