Downsizing Can Be the Start of Growth

hen I returned from a vision quest in the Utah Canyon Lands in October 1996, I didn’t know exactly what I wanted, but I knew what I did not want. My glass-blowing business was consuming too much of my time and I needed to make a change.

I was in the 12th year of running an open studio and gallery in Corning, N. Y., with two full-time and several part-time employees. On average, I spent five days a week making glass and one weekend a month traveling to shows. I was designing things I didn’t really want to make just to pay the bills and keep my employees busy.

I was bored filling orders and didn’t have enough time to be creative with the glass or pursue other interests. Most of all, I felt like I was caretaker of something that was not “me” and I was not having fun.

Four years earlier, I had made a commitment to writing, first poetry and then singing and song writing, and I wanted more time to explore those pursuits. I also make and sell wooden, Native American-style drums and African-style djembes (drums) with a friend. I felt I had these other options, so I took the leap and told my employees that I was closing the glass studio.

Since I couldn’t afford to quit blowing glass all together, I gave up the wholesale end and chose only to do retail shows. I figured I could be more creative if I wasn’t filling orders and I would get the full price of my work. Even though it was more risky, and I might have to travel more, I felt I could still work less than if I ran my own hot shop.

I still rented part of my old studio space, but only 700 square feet instead of 2,800 when I had my own furnaces and gallery. Eventually I built a studio at my home with an office and wood shop but no hot glass equipment. The only thing that I miss about having a studio in Corning’s downtown area is the daily social scene.

I now blow glass on a part-time basis by renting studio time at The Corning Museum of Glass Studio. I am fortunate to live near a first-class rental facility that is usually available. I blow glass two or three days a week when I’m getting ready for a show and when I’m not, I don’t have to worry about how many dollars worth of gas my glass furnace is consuming. My stress level is way down.

It took some deflation of my ego to let my studio go but the benefits outweigh the drawbacks. I consume less energy, have much less overhead, have more free time, and I can roll with the economic tides easier.

Renting does have its down side: no public or cooperative studio is going to be as tailored to my tastes as my own shop was, especially one that is under the umbrella of a large corporation. The Corning Studio does, however, melt better glass than I was ever able to in my own studio.

My creativity with glass began to flow anew and I became excited again about making objects. Now that I was not filling orders, I had the time to jump on these new ideas right away, while the energy was fresh. I remember being inspired one morning by daffodils that my wife, Susan, had picked and put on the breakfast table. I began a new series of bright yellow and orange vases and bowls that has become one of my best sellers.

I had feared that I would lose my edge if I didn’t have my own studio and wouldn’t be able to make as high a quality work as I had previously. This has proved not to be the case and I am still getting into the same quality shows that I did in the past.

I find there are many benefits to downsizing my business, but the best one I did not anticipate at all. Less than a year after I closed my studio, Susan gave birth to our daughter, Carly, who is now 5 years old. My wife is a self-employed jeweler and works alone in a home studio. For the first three years of Carly’s life we took turns spending our days with her while the other person worked, with each of us getting at least three days per week in our studio. I remember those days that I spent at home with my daughter as the most precious in my life. It did take some getting used to and certainly tried my patience at times, but it was definitely a good teaching and learning experience. I think the biggest lesson that I learned was to let my daughter dictate the pace of the day. I also learned to pay attention to the ordinary, simple stuff and realize how important it is. I still struggle to remind myself of this all the time.

I made my change in better economic times and now it is a lot tougher to make ends meet no matter what the size of your business. And while Susan and I almost never do the same craft shows, we bring a babysitter and other booth help on those occasions that we do. This increases our travel expenses and makes those trips a bigger production all around.

But, I am convinced that I made the right decision when I see my friends struggling to keep their glass studios afloat amidst soaring fuel costs and shrinking sales. Now more than ever it makes good sense to share expenses and resources any way we can, both for conservation sake and our own sanity.

I didn’t know what was next for me when I closed my studio but all I needed was the willingness to change. I had to make the first move from my heart, out of faith, before a new door could open. A Native American Elder once said, “Every problem we solve with our head creates 10 more problems, while those we solve with our heart stay solved.” When I decided to change six years ago, I really hoped that I would not be blowing glass, now, and be into something different. I still can’t seem to find enough time to write and sing, so perhaps it’s time for another leap.

Alex Brand is a glass artist in Corning, N.Y.