Storyteller, Adventurer, and Lampworker Extraordinaire

The night is dark and both of the people who are packed into the little Dodge minipickup are exhausted from trading off driving for almost twenty hours—nonstop

except for gas and small essential breaks. We were winding through the North Carolina mountains on Highway 40 nearing our goal of attending the 1995 Glass Art Society (GAS) conference in Asheville, North Carolina. We pulled into the hotel parking lot and found a very scarce parking spot. The engine was now off and resting; we hardly had the energy to get out of the truck. My glassblowing partner and I got out and slowly walked to the hotel lobby. She was in need of the restroom, and I was following in a trance. Suddenly, I found myself inside the ladies’ room and immediately whirled around and headed out the door at a fast clip, hoping no one saw me. Outside directly across from me was a tall, thin man sitting in a chair, laughing quite profusely in my direction. I walked/staggered over to him and hastily tried to explain our circumstances, and he laughed even more. We then exchanged our credentials, and the man I had just met was none other then Jean Boutz, the glassblower of great renown.