SHOP WORKSHOPS ABOUT

Winter on Vinalhaven had a lovely moment yesterday. A bright, balmy thirty-degree day, a long walk at Geary’s Beach with Gigi and my mom, blue skies stretching wide, and light skipping across the water. It was one of those days that reminds you why winter here carries its own kind of quiet magic.

This winter has been winter in earnest. Cold. Our Salty Sisters group hasn’t dipped as often lately. The temperature, the windchill, and, not to mention, the growing collection of “icebergs” have kept our forays in check. But we went on Saturday. Slipping into thirty-degree water, navigating icy shores and frozen seaweed, breath catching, laughter bubbling up, and that unmistakable feeling of being wildly alive.

Starwater was born in moments like those. A deep, sparkly blue inspired by cold water, clear winter nights, and the way everything feels both hushed and glowing at the same time. The tide keeps moving, the light keeps shifting, and winter keeps offering up these small, luminous moments.

Starwater is an invitation to pause, notice the light, and carry a bit of this winter moment with you as the season continues.

Studio Notes

So happy to be in the studio - lots of time cutting glass and watching the quiet magic of the kiln do its work. This week I’ve been working with pink striking glass, a material that keeps its secrets until the heat is just right. Cold, it looks pale pink with a hint of lavender. Fired to the right temperature, it transforms into a rich ruby pink, revealing its true color only after the kiln has done its work. This is the glass that will become Falling Light, next week’s color drop. I’m excited to show you the before and afters of this color - it really is magic!

Continuing my education, I’ve been diving into a class with Tim Carey, whose process and energy I really enjoy. His curiosity is contagious, and watching the way he approaches glass has been grounding and encouraging. It’s been a good reminder of the value of staying open, learning from others, and continuing to show up to the work with care and curiosity.

And in the better late than never department, I’m finally getting my woodstove set up. Fortunately, this is Maine, where you can almost justify using a woodstove year-round.

Island Notes

Lately, the weather has been setting the terms of my walks. Most days we’ve stayed close to dirt roads, where I can throw the ball for Gigi without much risk of losing it to snowbanks or drifts. Looking for something a little different the other day we took a chance and headed out to Huber Preserve. Snow-filled woods. Ice covered Seal Bay. That deep, winter quiet that settles in your bones. I am grateful that these places still exist, and at the same time I am sad and angry knowing this land was stolen from the Penobscot Nation. I continue to unravel these feelings and find that reading helps add clarity. Recently, I read An Indigenous Peoples’ History of the United States by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz which reframes American history through the lived experiences of Indigenous peoples. It traces how settler colonialism, land theft, and violence were not side stories, but central to the founding and expansion of this country, and how those structures continue to shape the present. Reading it alongside these winter walks has made the landscape feel more layered. Beautiful, generous, and deeply complicated. It’s a reminder that learning is ongoing, and that gratitude for place can, and should, sit alongside truth.

All of this feeds my work. The walking, the cold, the stillness, the learning. Starwater came from that same space. Winter tides, dark water, clear nights, and the quiet responsibility of paying attention. Making color is one way I stay in relationship with this place. Not to explain it, but to listen, reflect, and carry a small piece of it forward.

Always Grateful

Thank you for being here, for reading along, and for being part of this small, colorful world. Whether you’ve collected a piece, shared a kind word, or simply opened this email, your presence matters. Starwater is offered in that same spirit. An invitation to pause, notice the light, and carry a bit of this winter moment with you as the season continues.