Fused Glass Art Installation
From Engineering to Emotion: How My Fused Glass Art Began
In making art, I wasn’t chasing the real or the unreal. I was searching for something deeper—something mysterious and often hidden. I was after the unconscious, the layered self, and the quiet transformation that comes when we truly awaken.
During my years in the business world, I traveled widely—visiting circuit card manufacturers across continents, working alongside engineers to solve design puzzles and select the right components. I came to see circuit cards not just as functional devices, but as intricate compositions—microcosms of order and innovation. There was beauty in their precision, a kind of silent elegance in the way they powered everything from smartphones to missile guidance systems. That world shaped me. It gave me a lens for seeing technology as art and eventually nudged me to bring that sensibility into my own creative process.
I started experimenting—with materials, with form, with light. Plexiglass became my first playground, later evolving into printed aluminum as a base for fused glass. It was a slow, intuitive unfolding, each step guided less by a plan and more by a feeling—by curiosity, by resonance, by an inner yes.
Much of my inspiration came from the Light and Space movement that emerged in Southern California in the 1960s. These artists used new materials—resins, fiberglass, industrial plastics—and aimed not to depict but to evoke: space, light, stillness, presence. Their minimalism wasn’t empty; it was alert, alive. I was drawn in. I began taking classes at Santa Monica College, signing up for workshops, opening myself to a new language I barely understood but somehow recognized.
My first encounter with plexiglass came during a home renovation. I was searching for a bold focal point for one of the rooms—something clean, luminous, and unexpected. Plexiglass answered that call. It offered a broad, uninterrupted field of color and light, onto which I mounted painted canvases. Though invented in the 1930s, plexiglass still felt modern—sleek, strong, and versatile. Used in advertising, architecture, and design, it brought with it a kind of clarity I was craving.
Then came the fused glass. In a workshop, I stumbled on tiles that shimmered with a glossy, magnetic finish. Their sensuality—the way they caught the light—felt familiar. I paired them with plexiglass, curious to see what would happen. At the time, I didn’t know I was beginning a body of work. I was simply following the thread of what moved me.