A very special place

These beauties came from a very special place. They are authentic Orsoni Italian smalti, the original mosaic material. They are made only in Venice, and only by the Orsoni family, who has made them, in the same factory, for centuries. They'll tell you how they're made, but then they'll have to kill you. These little scraps of glass are mosaicists' gold. They are so special that I've had them for almost two years and I'm too afraid to use them for fear of wasting them on a project that's not worthy. I'm happy to just look at them.

Cheryl was in Venice two years ago. On the very outside chance that she might be able to drop in at the Orsoni factory, I armed her with a very bad, vague map of the very twisty, ancient alleyways of Venice. One hot Italian afternoon, Cheryl took up the challenge of finding the factory. The image of my lovely friend on an intrepid solo mission in Venice to find this factory for me is so charming it chokes me up. And she did find it, and eventually finangled a tour from Signora Orsoni herself.


The image above is of a tiny sign that is the only external indicator of the Orsoni smalti factory. I believe it indicates the factory doorbell.

My beautiful smalti came from one of the very cradles of mosaic art, from their natural habitat in a place that is incredibly otherworldly, unique and special. I may never use them.

Nice rack(s)

And now, two key racks! They're small and fun to make--and perfect for that guy who has, like, four pairs of Oakley sunglasses and needs a place to hang them in their little cloth bags (you know who you are).

The top one is made with cinca ceramic tiles, which have a very traditional look and come in earthy colours. I used a glossy spray to brighten it up a bit.

The bottom one is made with stained glass scraps. I love stained glass.

Table of holy matrimony

This is a table I made as a wedding present for Jenn and Roy. It was made using the 'indirect method,' which is what you use when you want a completely flat surface. Rather than glue the tiles face-up onto the tabletop, you glue the tiles upside-down onto a piece of heavy brown paper. Then you grout the bottom of the tiles while they're still upside down on the paper. Then, while the grout is still wet, you flip the mosaic right side up and lay it in a bed of adhesive on the board that will be the tabletop surface. Next, you wet the brown paper and peel it off. Then you re-grout from the front. Voila--a perfect, flat surface.

This technique has been in use since mosaic's invention hundreds of years ago. The stupendous mosaic floors you can see in churches and villas around the world were made using the indirect method. It's amazing, because the artist was basically working backwards and upside down, placing each tile wrong-side-up onto a temporary surface. This technique has the huge advantage of letting the artist work off-site, and then bring the panels to be installed as they're finished. But as a disadvantage, the poor bugger can't even see his mosaic until it's installed right-side-up!

Check out the 'Mosaics so beautiful they make me teary' link on the right hand side for some incredible indirect mosaics. Sigh.

Celebrating January 8, 1975

My birthday. Sweet Chad, who cannot make scalloped potatoes from a box without guidance, took it upon himself to make me a birthday cake. And a fine cake it is/was (we had a slice tonight, a day early). It has delicious icing and colourful sprinkles to identify it as a birthday cake. Thanks, sweetie.

And, of course, thanks to Mom for shoving me on my way 32 years ago. Love you lots.