From Marbles to Malmischiato
Some of my collection
Museum of Glass in Tacoma, WA
My malmischiato
It started with marbles. Those delightful little spheres.
My grandparents had an antique marble collection, and as a kid I was completely captivated by them. Most weren't the machine-made marbles most children played with. They were handmade glass, each one slightly imperfect, with swirls of color that invited you in for a story. Especially latticino cores — I could lose myself in them for hours. My grandmom lovingly supported my fascination and gifted me a part of their collection, one of my greatest treasures from childhood.
Through my teens and twenties I kept growing that collection, browsing antique shows and seeking out glass artisans making new pieces with minerals and colors that seemed almost magical. That collection still sits prominently in a lit curio cabinet in my home, exactly where it belongs.
That early fascination never left me. Even after I stopped actively collecting marbles, I found myself drawn to glass museums and galleries wherever I went — lingering a little longer than everyone else, pulled in by the artistry and mystery of what happens when you melt glass and minerals into something beautiful. I would still add the occasional piece to my cabinet, though with a different eye than my younger self.
And then, finally, I found my way to mosaic. I started with traditional glass tiles, but for me, glass tiles are like those machine-made marbles — perfectly fine, but a little predictable. Smalti is more like those gorgeous handmade marbles I fell in love with as a child — complex, alive, and full of character. And then diving a little deeper, I discovered malmischiato — melting smalti colors together at the torch and pulling them into something entirely new.
After a lifetime of admiring what others do with glass, I'm finally making my own. It turns out the swirls I fell in love with as a child weren't so different from the threads I pull today.
As for my collection? Living in Portland, I'm not far from Lincoln City, known as the “Glass Art Capital of Oregon.” Local artisans craft thousands of colorful hand-blown glass floats each year for Finders Keepers, a treasure hunt of sorts along seven miles of beach. Every time I visit the coast my eyes are scanning the shoreline. One of those floats has my name on it — I just haven't found it yet. But when I do, it will be on display in my curio with its marble friends.
Photo credit: Finders Keepers