Page 1 of Glass & Groundwork
Jasper
Standing in my storage unit, I always felt a mix of excitement and disillusionment. Each time I felt like I was getting closer to this becoming a reality, I had another hurdle in my path. I was closer now than I’d ever been, and yet the hurdle ahead might be the one that stops me.
I walked around the space, hand trailing over the boxes, running through the inventory in my head. It was all here. I’d been collecting equipment and tools for a while, storing them until I found a studio to rent. Except, finding a studio became a much more difficult task than I expected.
When I made the move from Orange County to the Inland Empire about four months ago, I felt like I was finally taking steps to starting my own life, to the independence I’d been craving since I was a kid. I’d had my own place for a few years,but it was too close to the family, which made them feel like they had a say in everything I did, and it was suffocating. Although even a hundred miles away, they still had too much say in my life, but at least they weren’t willing to drive out here to visit.
I needed this to work, needed to show them I could make a business out of glass. Itwaspossible. I'd studied under some extremely talented artists who were able to work with glass for a living, but I knew it would take some time to get there. As I waited for a place to set up shop, I was trying to do everything else I could to build a path toward a solid business. Business was what my family knew and while I never intended to follow in their footsteps, I knew I needed to set myself up for success if I had any hope of seeing my dream come to fruition.
My mother had reluctantly contacted one of her friends, whose son worked for a marketing firm. In fact, he was the CMO for the company. Most of my mom’s friends were a certain type I didn’t care to associate with so when she set up a meeting with me and the CMO son, I wasn’t sure what I would be walking into. If it helped give me a marketing plan and some actionable steps, I figured I could put my own feelings aside.
Meeting Derek had been a pleasant surprise in more ways than one. He had a really good eye for the job and I felt pumped after talking with him, and oddly enough, he had an in with the local arts community—his boyfriend, Marley. Derek introduced me to the bubbly florist and brought me to the Heartcraft Market.
Marley had deemed himself my tour guide at the market, and took me around to meet a lot of the vendors and get a feel for the scene. I admired each booth we passed, from pies to produce to crochet and more. The farmer’s market was exactly the kind of place I’d been hoping to find, somewhere I could connect with other artists and artisans. We had street fairs in Orange County, but it wasn’t the same.
Heartcraft had this vibe to it that made me feel instantly at home. Only, I was still the new kid with nothing to show for himself aside from some photos on social media of the work I’d done. I couldn’t sell photos and no one would take me seriously without actual products in front of me, which I couldn’t do until I set up shop. There were some large pieces I’d made that were boxed up in the storage unit. Each one showcased a new technique I’d achieved after countless fails. I might use them for show pieces eventually, but they weren’t for sale.
Everything hinged on the ability to be able to build or join a forge. Glass didn’t work without fire, and fire… well, fire was hard to insure in the middle of a city. I trailed my hand over the crates in the storage unit and gave one last wistful stare before turning off the light and locking the door. I might have been proudly out of the closet but my hopes and dreams were still locked away in one, and all with a clock ticking over my head.
My hands were itching to get a hold of some glass. The need to create crawled under my skin like a parasite, and I needed to do something to set it free before it consumed me from the inside out. My mother, my family, they would never understand the drive, the urge to make something with your own hands. They saw it as a hobby, which, sure, it could be, but I hadn’t found anything else that scratched the itch like glass, and I’d tried a lot of different media.
I might not have spent a lifetime doing it, but it called to me from the moment I saw it, and it wouldn’t let go. My parents were only going to tolerate my “whims” for so long before forcing me to give it up and join the family business. I knew Ishouldn’tcomplain, that I had opportunities given to me that most didn’t, but following in my father’s footsteps felt like a fate worse than death. What good was financial security if it meant I sold my soul?
When I got to myJeep, I tied my medium-length curly hair into a knot on top of my head, the strands in the back still hanging down. It was a cool fall day, and feeling the wind in my face might help clear my head. I unlatched the soft top cover from the inside and pushed it open to allow for a sunroof. Since I wasn’t going to be driving far, I didn’t collapse it all the way, but having the sun on my skin and the breeze blowing around me was a temporary band-aid as I headed home. Except, I wasn’t really feeling like going home. Sitting alone with my thoughts wasn’t what I needed at the moment.
I had a few friends back in Orange County, but now that I’d had a little time and distance from them, I was beginning to see they might not be friendships that last. They had vastly different interests, and I felt something shift in my life, taking me a new direction. Derek and Marley came to mind, but we didn’t know each other well yet. Several of the folks at the market seemed interesting, but I was just too new and didn’t feel like I had much to offer to the conversation yet. There was one number in my phone besides Derek’s, however.
I pulled over to the side of the road, threw on my hazard lights, and looked at my phone. Again, we hadn’t known each other well, but he’d given me his number and told me to call if I needed anything. There was something about the man that had drawn me in when Marley introduced us. I ended up sitting with him in his booth at the market for a while that first time. The man had this calm demeanor that made me feel like I could catch my breath for a moment. Right now, I felt like that was something I could use. Had he simply been polite by giving me his number or did he mean it? His name shone on my phone until I finally hit the call button.
It rang a couple of times before he answered with a soft, “Hello?”
It was either anxiety at calling the man or excitement at hearing his voice, but my heart was doing somersaults in my chest. “Hey, Gio, this is Jasper. Um… Jasper Maldonado, we met at Heartcraft a few times.”
“Hi, Jasper. Of course, I remember. What’s going on?” Even in those few words, his voice came through in a gentle and soothing tone.
“Sorry for calling so out of the blue like this, but you said to call if I needed anything, and well… I wasn’t really sure who else to ask.”
“What’s happening? Are you okay?” His gentle tone took on a protective edge that made me feel guilty and, weirdly, a little homesick. Could you be homesick for something you never had? It wasn't like my father ever used a protective tone when it came to me, only in protecting the family business or reputation.
“Everything’s fine. Really. Well, sort of, mostly. I don’t know. I don’t really know people out here and I was feeling like I didn’t want to be by myself, and you were the first person I thought of. Sorry, this is so random. I really don’t need anything right now.”
“Jasper?” His soft tone returned, effectively cutting me off. Which was a relief, because once I started rambling, who knew where it would stop?
I took a deep breath. “Yeah?”
“Are you allergic to bees?”
I huffed out a surprised laugh at the random question. “No, I don’t think so. At least, I haven’t had a problem so far.”
“Okay, good. Do you want to come over?”
“Wait. Really? You don’t mean that, do you? I can just head home, I’ll be fine.” The invite was unexpected, but I tried not to sound too eager to take him up on it. Anything to not be alone with my thoughts.
“Yes, I mean it. Come on over, we’re just getting ready to sit down for dinner, but we’ll hold it until you get here,” Gio said in a gently firm statement.
“We? I’m sorry, I didn’t really think about your… um, family? I don’t want to be a bother.” I really didn’t know much about the guy except that he had a passion for his bees and honey. Was he married? Did he have a wife and kids and the whole lot and I was crashing in with my little non-crisis.
“Here’s my address. The longer you take, the colder the food will get. We’ll see you soon.”
