I’ve always been fascinated by stained glass. My first memory of it traces back to childhood and my small Midwest church. It wasn’t a towering cathedral with ornate walls of glass—just a small church, built in the 70s that has a single stained glass window, tucked behind the altar.

The window is round, with hues of green and yellow casting soft light behind the cross. The design of the window is an abstract cross between a flower and a sunburst. My grandmother once told me she had helped pay for the window in memory of my uncle, who passed away the year I was born. During services, I’d sit and stare at it, completely mesmerized by the way the colors danced through the glass. That one window—simple and full of meaning—sparked something in me.

Another reason I love stained glass is that it gives me a way to be creative—even though I’ve never thought of myself as naturally artistic. I’d love to be a singer, but my voice is more alley cat than angelic. I’d love to draw, but I never got much further than stick figures.

Glass, however, gives me a different kind of creative freedom. Whether I’m working from a pattern designed by another artist, or creating my own from my patterns based on my photography and inspiration found in nature, stained glass lets me bring images to life in a way that feels personal and expressive.

I’m especially drawn to flowers and birds—two things that seem to hold still just long enough to be captured in glass. There’s something timeless about translating nature’s beauty into something solid, luminous, and lasting.

Working with stained glass is more than just a craft for me—it’s a way to capture memory, express creativity, and connect with the natural beauty that’s always inspired me. Whether it’s the light through a church window or the flash of color on a bird’s wing, stained glass helps me slow down and appreciate those moments.

That’s why I started Birdsong Glassworks: to share a piece of that wonder, one panel at a time.