I was 34 and John was around 18 when this photograph was taken.
John showed up one day a few years earlier with his shop teacher from Buckingham High School. He had just cut his foot on a rock while playing in the James River and was hobbling around on crutches. I don’t know the whole story but somehow the shop teacher thought an introduction between the two of was a good idea.
At this time, in order to survive financially, I was beveling glass for other studios as well as my commissions. Beveling is tough work. Holding a piece of glass over rotating iron, stone, cork and felt at a certain angle took focus, muscle and a big chunk of perseverance. I also explained the merits of efficiency to John, largely by connecting the dots between his production and what I could afford to pay him.
John caught on quickly. Strong, smart and with the ever present need to put gas in his truck he proved to be a real asset. We got along great, two bachelors who understood that this was a special time in our lives. A time to be taken seriously, or as seriously as two young fellows with no dependents could muster.
I’ll never forget the day we were both grinding away and John turned to me and said, “You know Wayne, this is art!”
All of a sudden the sky lightened up, the pain in my hands faded away, and the stress I was feeling left my body. Was I having a “peak” moment. Was this nirvana? I knew about mind over matter, but how could it escape me when I needed it the most?
From then on, everything I do is art. Washing dishes, mowing the grass, cooking, gardening, feeding the chickens, and above all, my interactions with my fellow human beings.