Art medium(s): My primary medium is glass, followed by writing—and then anything else I can get my hands on. If it’s creative, I’ll try it.
How do you describe your art? If there’s one throughline in my work, it’s texture. Whether it’s physically present or just visually suggested, I want people to feel compelled to touch it. When someone reaches out instinctively, I know I’ve done my job. I love the moment of surprise—when a piece that looks rough is actually smooth, or when the texture is bold and unapologetic.
I tend to work large. As my husband and creative partner Bill says, “Go big or go home.” My kiln limits me to a 20-inch round, but within that space, I go deep. Some pieces are over an inch thick and weigh more than fifteen pounds. It’s probably a blessing we don’t own a bigger kiln. The thicker pieces spend hours with Bill at the wet belt sander, giving them that crystal clear, smooth gallery edge.
Were you always interested in following a creative path? Always. I grew up in a home where crafts weren’t just a hobby—they were how we made a living. My mother did everything from landscape paintings and apple-head dolls to puppet-making and sewing dresses for antique dolls. To this day, fresh paper—any kind of paper—gets my creative energy flowing. If there’s paper and something to write with, I’m sketching or scribbling.
What does your “day-in-the-life” look like? By day, I work as an Executive Assistant. Outside of that, life is a dynamic mix of dogs, glass and words. My husband Bill and I breed and show Briards—a passion that’s brought us deep into the world of conformation, training and the occasional chaos of puppies. I also write for Herding Dog Digest and am usually juggling a romantic manuscript or three.
Glass is my reset button. When I’m planning a new piece, working through a challenge with the dogs, or stuck in a writing fog, stepping into the studio and letting the glass take over always unlocks something. It’s meditative, tactile and quietly powerful—like the creative version of deep breathing.
Where do you get your creative inspiration? Everywhere. A crooked branch, a dirty car, a passing glance—anything can spark an idea. When I’m actively seeking inspiration, I’ve learned it’s better to shift focus and work on something unrelated. Somehow, the two problems always intersect, and I end up solving more than I set out to.
Why do you love what you do? Because I need to be in motion—creative motion. I’m happiest when I’m busy in a way that engages both my hands and my imagination, ideally with music playing in the background. I’ll dabble in anything artistic, but glass holds me in a way nothing else does.
There’s a science to working with kiln-fused glass that I find deeply satisfying. It’s not just art—it’s chemistry, physics, timing and intuition. You have to understand how heat moves through layers, how colors shift, how different types of glass react to one another. And yet, even with all that knowledge, the kiln always has the final say. You can plan meticulously, but the process demands patience and respect. There’s no rushing it. That tension between control and surrender is part of what keeps me coming back.
What I love most is the sheer range of possibilities. Kiln-fused glass is endlessly versatile—sculptural, functional, abstract, architectural. You can go bold with texture, subtle with translucence, playful with layering. Every piece is a new experiment, a new conversation between heat, material and intention. It’s a medium that never stops surprising me.
And when someone reaches out to touch a piece—drawn in by the texture or the illusion of it—that’s the moment I know the work is doing what it’s meant to do. It’s connecting. It’s sparking curiosity. That’s the magic.
Early bird or night owl? I used to be an early bird, but that has completely flipped. Now I’m definitely a night owl.
Last movie you watched or book you read: “Born in Fire” by Nora Roberts. It’s the first book in her Irish Born Trilogy, and it kicks off with Margaret Mary Concannon, a fiercely independent glass artist whose fiery temperament matches her craft. The story blends passion, art and romance in a way that’s quintessentially Roberts.
Is the glass half full or half empty? Half full—always.
What makes you happiest: The people and animals I share my life with—my husband Bill, our dogs, my family, close friends and the community around me. They’re my foundation.
I’m happiest when I’m creating something that reflects those connections. Whether it’s a piece of glass that plays with texture and light, or a story that captures emotional truth, I find joy in turning everyday experiences into something tangible. The work doesn’t have to be perfect—it just has to feel honest.
I also find happiness in quiet moments. The stillness of winter. The first birdsong in spring. The sound of leaves shifting in the fall. Those small, seasonal rhythms remind me to slow down and pay attention. And when I can bring that feeling into my art, it feels like I’ve done something worthwhile.
Find Rebecca at www.facebook.com/rlwfusedglass
