Mars
Will
I Had Nothing
Or at least that's how it felt by the time I got to Mars. Seven planets in, I had apparently used up every idea I owned.
The face wasn't the problem. Sculpting was getting easier by then, and I was growing more confident. Mars was the first face I made with a full neck. I exaggerated the heavy brow, Adam's apple, neck muscles, and jutting chin. His hair pushed outward like an advance party, clearing the way for an army that hadn't shown up yet.
I stared at him.
Now what?
Finding a Plan
Grasping, I reached back to a design idea that I'd been successful with in the past: stacking tesserae. Instead of laying the glass flat, I would build it outward, layer upon layer.
Good. I had a plan.
Then I pulled together the glass I intended to use—reds, purples, whatever sharp-edged pieces I had on hand. It didn't look like nearly enough. It was, however, what I had.
Making it Work
At that point, Mars and I had already spent enough time together. I wasn't going shopping. I wasn't starting over. And I certainly wasn't waiting around for inspiration to make a dramatic reappearance.
So I started stacking.
Red over purple, shard over shard, one piece supporting another. Small pieces disappeared beneath larger ones. Layers became ridges, ridges became structure, and somehow that unimpressive little collection of glass began to look like something. Like Mars chin, the glass jutted out.
I kept going.
Not because I suddenly knew exactly what I was doing. I just kept making the next decision with what I had in front of me until there was nothing left to figure out.
Finally, there was Mars.
Willed into being.
