After the arrival of my second child I took up bead weaving and this turned into a fascination for lampwork beads and finally I decided to give it a go in the shed with a welders torch, glass rod and bucket of vermiculite.

Early beginnings with my trusty welders torch (kind thanks to my neighbour, Brian!)

My first lampwork beads were hilarious, never on centre, often muddy looking, they frequently split and always made me laugh. Now I am armed with bead torch, kiln and more sophisticated glass, but the process and results still make me smile, but now for a different reason.

My new lampwork studio

You can see my key items of equipment: my oxygen concentrator (grey box on floor by door), which provides a source of oxygen, my propane bottle by the shelves and my kiln, sitting shiny and bright on the table with its programmable controller (the blue box attached to its side). Above the work bench is a fume extractor.

The beads are borne of glass which is molten and wound on to a stainless steel mandrel, coated with a clay-like substance to stop it sticking called bead release. The soft glass is rolled, poked, pulled and pinched to make the overall form whilst gravity, coloured glasses, silver and palladium are used to give each bead it's colour and texture. The beads are then put into my digitally controlled kiln so that all the stresses are evened out to make them more durable (annealing).

 Many lampwork bead makers describe the process as very 'zen', living for the moment, totally absorbed by the present and I can't put it into better words. This, and the constant honing of skills and aspiration to mastering more advanced techniques are what floats my boat. The worst bit is waiting for the kiln to cool and the beads to come out so I can see, hold and fiddle with them.