ARTIST VS DESIGNER: EMBRACING MY PATH IN GLASS DESIGN

I’ve been wrestling with this question all summer: am I an artist, or am I a designer? Spoiler alert: I may well be a designer, but that’s not a flaw. It may be my superpower.

1. The Age-Old (or Rather, Art-Of-The-Old) Debate

Artists conjure emotion, rebellion, an uncontainable vision. Designers solve problems, think of function, refine and elevate the user’s experience. I’ve always dreamed of being the first but as I melt and mould glass into a future piece, I’m recognising how much I love the designer’s toolkit: precision, clarity, flow, structure. Glass designer, product design, glass product design… all these keyword-friendly phrases whisper that maybe, just maybe, my natural home is in design.

2. I Arrived a Bit Late to the Glass Party

Let’s be frank, I came late to glass. While some of my fellow students, those enviably cool, blond-haired Scandinavians, were practically swaddled in glass funnels at birth thanks to fancy specialised schools, I’ve only just landed in glass with a fresh enthusiasm. They’ve been pouring glass and mastering furnaces since they could walk. Me? Just since 2022. But here’s the thing:

• Transformation and growth is one of my core values, and that’s what this journey is all about

• It’s never about starting first. It’s about starting where you are, owning your pace

  
  

3. Marketing Gave Me a Secret Weapon

Before I ever picked up a punty, I spent over a decade working in marketing. Branding, storytelling, knowing how to connect an idea to an audience. These skills are gold when it comes to design thinking. It means I’m constantly thinking about not just what I make, but who it’s for, how it’s used, how it lives in space, what it communicates. Design isn’t just about making beautiful objects. It’s about building experiences and moments. My marketing brain helps me approach every glass piece like a conversation, not just a sculpture.

4. Some Pieces Don’t Want a Function. And That’s Fine Too

Even though I’m leaning more naturally into design, some of my creations refuse to be categorised. They’re not vases or lamps or tables. They don’t hold anything or light up or pour water. They just exist. Pure expressions of emotion, material, and curiosity. Sometimes, glass doesn’t want a job. It just wants to be. And that’s when the artist in me takes the reins.

But when it comes to the hot shop, that technical world of furnaces and blowing and timing and grit? I’m more than okay playing the role of assistant. In fact, I’m proud of it. I might not be the most technically advanced glassblower in the room, but I’ve developed a strong working knowledge of what it takes to magic up my designs. I understand the dance. I respect the craft. And I know how to collaborate with skilled craftsmen to bring my vision to life.

5. Some Pieces Don’t Want a Function—And That’s Fine Too

Even though I’m leaning more naturally into design, some of my creations refuse to be categorised. They’re not vases or lamps or tables. They don’t hold anything or light up or pour water. They just exist. Pure expressions of emotion, material, and curiosity. Sometimes, glass doesn’t want a job. It just wants to be. And that’s when the artist in me takes the reins.

But that doesn’t mean I haven’t dabbled in design. Quite the opposite. Take these, for example:

These cast glass nipple shakers, yes, moulded from my own breasts are a whimsical, tactile nod to product design. They rattle when shaken. They sparkle when the light hits them just right. They’re playful, a little bit provocative, and totally unnecessary in the most delightful way. Function? Questionable. Fun? Absolutely. That’s me blending identity, humour and glass in the most literal, fleshy form.

6. 10,000 Hours? Pfft. Let’s Talk 1,000

I stumbled across an interesting excerpt from The Craftsman: you can become a master with just 1,000 hours of true, concentrated work. So let’s unpack that:

“A thousand hours—or perhaps a tenfold amount—is the real milestone on the way to mastery.”

If that’s true, then relentless focus, smart practice, reflection and curiosity are more important than pedigree or even how soon you started. One big breath of optimism here: every hour I spend in the studio counts. My transformation from latecomer to compelling glass designer is in progress.

7. Why Being a Designer Might Be an Even Better Fit

While the glass maestros conjure poetry from flame and molten matter, I’m riffing in a slightly different key. Glass product design gives me wings to blend form, function, technology and surprise. Imagine glowing sculptural objects that are lighting but also reflective, playful, smart, interactive. That’s me in 2025: a glass designer who’s fascinated by how glass, light and tech can collaborate.

8. What’s Next? This Year’s Shiny New Module

I’m buzzing with excitement for the year ahead because with autumn comes my module on glass product design. I’m already ticking keyword boxes in my head: glass designer, product design, glassware innovation, glass product design studio, material integrity in design. In that module, I’ll be able to:

• Prototype design solutions that play with light, surprise, joy

• Explore process integrity, respecting glass as both raw material and collaborator

• Lean into both transformation and that underlying playfulness that keeps me silly and serious in perfect balance

  
  

I can already see future blog posts: “How I designed a lamp that whispers colours when you hold it” or “Playful reflections: layering tech sensors in glass to respond to movement.” It’s not about pretending to be a traditional artist. It’s about designing experiences in glass that provoke wonder.

9. A Love Letter to Design

So here’s the truth. I may have come late to glass. I may not be moulded by dorm-room furnaces since childhood. I may not be listed first in a catalogue of Scandinavian prodigies. But I love glass design and what I lack in early start I make up for in curiosity, integrity, playfulness and the designer’s eye.

Becoming the designer I’m meant to be, maybe that means never calling myself an “artist” first. That’s okay. Because being a glass designer allows me to merge emotion with planning, wonder with function, and always always keep pushing boundaries.

Here’s to 1,000 hours. Here’s to a year of exploration. Here’s to bold design in glass, a playful future and the transformation I’m forging with every kiln-cool piece.