Stained Glass - A window with a reason
The term stained glass has many meanings and styles. Sometimes it is clear glass with the same shaped pieces soldered in a pattern. Some are colored pieces and in a random form. Some pieces are textured and some are beveled. Pretty for the placement or a picture like a church window. Large and complicated or petite and covering a night lite in a bedroom. At times the glass cutter goes straight, and at times it goes astray. Some cutters have oil in them to make the wheel roll easily, and some cuts are dry. There is always the grinder though, to smooth the edges and straighten the lines. But only by removals, never by adding to, the window has no way to add to a piece, only to add another piece. With creativity and a bit of experience it can be made to look planned, and only the creator knows if that is so. Shaped into a lampshade or simply a framed break of continuity for a real window these pieces are only limited by the creativity of the maker and the placement of the one to whom it belongs.
The window to the soul is through the eyes, as the poets say. The question then is to look into them and to know what you see. The eye is also the filter that sees the world from the inside. You can see every emotion in the eyes. You have the "smiling eyes", the stink eye, the fear of being caught and the fear of death. Kenny Rogers sang, “I can see you’re out of Aces”, like it was written on your face. The thousand-mile stare of the lost, the weary fatigue of the single mom, the disillusioned and the despondent, and so many more. They really are the window to the soul. Both, an access that will reveal what is inside that you are looking through, and also as a trained tool that delves deeply to the point of the pain.
What then of the two. The window to the soul is of the style that is like the stained glass creation of a life lived and experienced. They are a parallel, then. The complicated and the simple. Monochrome and clear, or with the classic designs of beveled shapes of thick glass, or the fractured and random placements of the spectrum of colors. Fragile or strong, complicated or plain, each one is alone in its telling of the story of the life within. The indications of pain in the pane, or of none... Some that tell a story with the placement of the pieces and the colors that show a well planned and structured existence. Some that tell the story of the chaos of the way it is put into form and pattern and color. Well planned or simply the next piece placed, the result is a glass tapestry that is the tale of the journey taken, the pain and the pleasures of that journey and the realization that history is real and this is simply the story of it.