| Slowly and persistently a skin of glass is pulled across this skeleton of cement and stone. Numbers hide in the tilted landscape,
shaping it as the eye tumbles, seeking the ususal world, pleased in its disappointments. Traditional forms evolve and eddy in the wake of accidents,
spraying the worker with a hard, artlike deposit.....this kitschy encrustation is consistently mined by travellers avoiding the usual world, pleased in
their triumph as they walk about the gardens; soon the views become quite plain.........however, upon exiting, a street of unanswerable questions waits
to greet you.
|
My devoted, frightenly gifted sister Robyn and her brilliant husband Amnon Elbaz are magically productive glass bead crafters from Jerusalem. They decided I had nothing better to do but join them, and forced me by the gift of a glass kiln which Amnon assembled along the way to Utila. Naturally Amnon felt badly the previous trip watching me melt wine bottles in a wind fired wood pile. He has ambushed my erratic talents and enslaved them as attendants to the glass arts; some of the creations are offered to travelers, at modestly exorbitant prices, others are confiscated by Julia, the remainder encrust the garden's walls and steps.
Glass interrupts the infinite passage of light, suspending it in viscous shards of time. |
