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Previous - this entry written on December 27, 2004 at 1:23 am - Next The front door, a huge wooden panel corseted by iron and intricately carved, is surrounded on both sides and above by panels of stained glass. Each of the three sections was done by a different hand, giving them something of a patchwork feel. To the left of the door the scene is one that could be found in any church, the lines clean and sharp, the pastoral image easy to make out and easier to forget unless you happen to notice the tiny details in each piece of glass. Whoever made the jeweltone pieces clearly spent quite a bit of time on them, forming each and then using a second color of glass to swirl and tint the pieces, sometimes writing words in a color so close to the original that they can only be made out when the light hits from a particular angle, sometimes sketching strange, multi-limbed creatures that seem to change their shape as the viewer moves closer or further away. To the right of the door the work of a more progressive thinker is displayed, the window divided by dark lines of lead into neat, orderly geometric shapes. The glass itself shows a different side of the creator, formed by melting hundreds of shards of glass together into the shapes needed, making each piece a marvel of color and confusion. There is the sense that even amidst the chaos of color there was some sort of order, some pattern. A blink... a slight unfocusing of the eyes... and suddenly images take shape, seeming to pop out from the glass around them, spirals and fey dancing figures, the entire panel becoming a vision of classical court dance. Above the door lies the most intricate of the pieces, done not just with lead and glass but with bits of silver, pieces of ironwood and sturdy, aged oak, rusted steel, unsmelted gold, cat's eye agates, and a thousand other odd materials. Again unlike the other two, this piece has shape, bulging out and, when seen from inside, bulging in. A set of lights burn within it, illuminating, and flickering as if they were christmas lights. The colors of this final piece dance and move, seeming always in motion. The very form seems to pulse, to collapse and expand, a slow breath, a heartbeat of some ageless, undying beast. Sturdy wood beams, wrapped 'round with spirals of iron, form the supports of the door and of the porch, six columns holding place to frame the stone porch, ivy and honeysuckle climbing them, enclosing all but the front of the porch in their green curtain. The porch itself is six-sided, one side flush with the house, four tilting slowly inward, one last side kept free of ivy to provide an entryway. Unlike most, it is not soft wood but shaped and polised pieces of petrified wood that make its floor, set together like pieces of a puzzle, resting on concrete and wood supports only a few inches off the ground. Standing off the porch, looking in through the opening, the front door can be clearly seen. In that sheltered spot, the stained glass glows with warmth, drawing the eye in past the stone, past the ivy, encouraging entrance. Hosted by Diaryland - All Rights Reserved - Image, Layout, and Content copyright Jax Raven - - Do Not Feed The Moose - |
