Kiln-Formed Glass Art
Each piece is a memory made visible — a grandmother's treasure, fired in the kiln and glowing with the purples and pinks of family.
Welcome to the Gallery
Every piece you'll find here started as a sheet of cold glass and a spark of love. In the kiln, at temperatures hotter than a summer kitchen, the colors melt and merge — the way families do. The purples come from my mother's favorite shawl. The pinks from my granddaughter's first birthday cake. When you hold one of these pieces up to the light, you're not just seeing glass. You're seeing us.
— Grancy
The Collection
Each piece is one-of-a-kind, signed and dated. Custom commissions welcome — bring me your colors, your memories, and I'll bring them to life in glass.
More pieces available in the studio. Custom commissions are my favorite — bring me your story.
Commission a Piece
The Artist
They call me Grancy — a name my granddaughter gave me before she could say "Grandma," and it stuck the way the best names do. I've been working with glass for over twenty years, ever since I took a class at the community center on a Tuesday night and came home with a sun-catcher and a calling.
My studio is a small outbuilding behind the house, with a kiln that hums like a sleeping cat and shelves of glass sorted by color. The purples and pinks take up the most room — they've always been my favorites. My mother wore purple like other women wear perfume, and my granddaughter was born in a pink blanket on a warm July morning.
I fire each piece myself, usually in the quiet hours before the house wakes up. There's something holy about opening a kiln — you never quite know what you'll find, the same way you never quite know what a child will become. That's the magic of it.
"I don't make glass to match your sofa. I make glass to hold your memories."
The Process
Each sheet of glass is hand-selected, scored, and broken by hand. The colors are chosen like ingredients for a family recipe — by feel.
Glass is stacked in the kiln — base, color, accent, dichroic. The order matters. The intention matters more.
The kiln climbs to 1480°F over six hours. The glass melts, merges, and becomes something new. I watch it like a loaf of bread.
The kiln cools overnight — slow is part of the process. In the morning, I open it the way you'd open a gift. Every piece is a surprise.
Let's Begin
Tell me about the person you're thinking of, the colors that remind you of them, the memory you want to hold. I'll write back within a few days, and we'll begin.