Drop back and punt.
The two weeks since my return to Maui have seen me hard at work, preparing things at da Factory for next week's return to hotshop status. That's not to say I've been hard at work the entire two weeks - this is Haiku, Maui, after all - but there's been a healthy two or three days of work accomplished in there.
Anyhow, here's my own, personal dragon:
Once fired up, she'll be the focus of my very existence until shut off again in October. Because of the almost complete lack of safety devices ...interesting construction of a certain critical component (hint: it has two basic parts; one is a pile of bricks and cement, the other makes big fire), constant attention will be required. Being a fairly small pot, I'll probably be charging fresh glass into it every other night, if not every night. This all adds up to me checking it every two to three hours, every night.
At this point, while things at dF are quiet, the future looks good. There are some deals being finalized that will bring two of the best glassblowers to walk the planet out here for a while. Very excited about that - not only will these folks bring some incredible talent and energy to the picture, they also happen to be two of the most genuinely great people I've met (one has been referred to as "the Janis Joplin of glass"). Hell, I might even earn a paycheck out of this whole adventure by year's end.
...
People are starting to voice question as to why I'm still here, still doing this for free and at my own detriment. I've been asking myself that for a while, and I think I have answers now:
1) No one else will. I can't walk away leaving a good friend with a newborn child and a half-assembled glass shop. More to the point, I can't leave my friend's wife (also a good friend) with a newborn and a husband trying desperately to pull shit together alone.
2) Everyone pays dues. I paid dues to a career I didn't really want, one that went from challenging to "oh, shit, they'll be doing this for minimum wage soon..." Now, I'm working my way in to a field that I love. If this all works, my loyalty and hard work will pay major dividends. If not, I'll walk away with a great deal of fresh knowledge and experience that will doubtlessly serve me well.
3) What else am I going to do? Bail for the mainland, and go back to some 9-5 bullshit? Fuck no. Either da Factory works, and I'm part of it; or I figure out something else. If I don't stick in to the bitter end, rather watch from the safety of a paycheck, it can only go two ways: dF fails, and I regret not doing everything possible to prevent such failure; dF succeeds, and I'm out, left with the regret giving up. No, I'm here, and I believe J needs me here enough to put what energy he can into keeping me here.
4) Faith. This is going to work. Maybe not this iteration, but overall failure isn't an option.
Anyhow, here's my own, personal dragon:
Once fired up, she'll be the focus of my very existence until shut off again in October. Because of the almost complete lack of safety devices ...interesting construction of a certain critical component (hint: it has two basic parts; one is a pile of bricks and cement, the other makes big fire), constant attention will be required. Being a fairly small pot, I'll probably be charging fresh glass into it every other night, if not every night. This all adds up to me checking it every two to three hours, every night.
At this point, while things at dF are quiet, the future looks good. There are some deals being finalized that will bring two of the best glassblowers to walk the planet out here for a while. Very excited about that - not only will these folks bring some incredible talent and energy to the picture, they also happen to be two of the most genuinely great people I've met (one has been referred to as "the Janis Joplin of glass"). Hell, I might even earn a paycheck out of this whole adventure by year's end.
...
People are starting to voice question as to why I'm still here, still doing this for free and at my own detriment. I've been asking myself that for a while, and I think I have answers now:
1) No one else will. I can't walk away leaving a good friend with a newborn child and a half-assembled glass shop. More to the point, I can't leave my friend's wife (also a good friend) with a newborn and a husband trying desperately to pull shit together alone.
2) Everyone pays dues. I paid dues to a career I didn't really want, one that went from challenging to "oh, shit, they'll be doing this for minimum wage soon..." Now, I'm working my way in to a field that I love. If this all works, my loyalty and hard work will pay major dividends. If not, I'll walk away with a great deal of fresh knowledge and experience that will doubtlessly serve me well.
3) What else am I going to do? Bail for the mainland, and go back to some 9-5 bullshit? Fuck no. Either da Factory works, and I'm part of it; or I figure out something else. If I don't stick in to the bitter end, rather watch from the safety of a paycheck, it can only go two ways: dF fails, and I regret not doing everything possible to prevent such failure; dF succeeds, and I'm out, left with the regret giving up. No, I'm here, and I believe J needs me here enough to put what energy he can into keeping me here.
4) Faith. This is going to work. Maybe not this iteration, but overall failure isn't an option.