So my first project was to do the same small design-a candle holder, over and over, in different types of glass or tiles. I also had a person-specific theme and this is what kept me interested. The candle holders were made in honor of a dear friend of mine, Jason Francis, who died fast of cancer, 11 weeks from diagnosis to death. I had planned a reveal party at my house in order to give away each candle holder made in Jason’s honor to all of his close Seattle friends, whom I called his “deep friends”. This was year 3 of not having him on this planet, and it still sucked. I had also planned my first group project-a mosaic coat rack, waiting for us to build that night. The coat rack was to be a gift for his wife and daughter who, since Jason’s death, had moved to the other coast. We needed to make her something that would “love her” from Seattle. For me, mosaics had to have a heartbeat,  a place of super connection. We could have done a mosaic of the Mountain and the Space Needle, but more personal to them was the Tulip Festival. A mosaic coat rack made by her friends from Seattle would be a keepsake that would “love her” everyday, as her piano students could hang their coats on the mosaic Tulip rack during their 30 minute lessons. I have been hooked on the mosaic process ever since, especially when it is done with or for the people you love. I have guided events to celebrate a friends 50th birthday, or a 30 year marriage, the first child leaving for college, or the first career job with a signing bonus. Family and friends have commemorated these events by making a mosaic together. It’s a double gift. You have the memory of making it, and then you also have the mosaic itself. Over the years I’ve seen the power in both.