a brittle transparent solid with irregular atomic structure
from Free Online Thesaurus
The shattering of glass is as loud as a domino being slapped down by a player with a winning hand. I didn’t cry when I heard the sound. I realized that the glass represented a part of the history of myself.
In an episode from NCIS, a recurring villain hands a glass of Napoleonic brandy to one of the main characters and says “History in a glass.” I am not interested in what’s inside the glass or the history of the glass itself. Although, I am sure both are equally fascinating. I collect tiny, antique, hand-blown glasses for aesthetic reasons only.
I can date my collection from the time I started visiting my sister in southern France. In a small shop near her home in Le Bez, a rather grumpy man runs a 50 year old antique shop covered with dust. Spitting on a plate to see the pattern is not unheard of, at least in my family. This is where my collection began.
Every glass I own has a story. It is the story of where it was purchased, who I was with, what mood I was in, what cafe my husband waited for me in, and what aspect of that particular vessel prompted me to buy it. These glasses are a barometer of my aesthetic decisions at a specific time. Better than a scrapbook or digital catalog of photos, these vintage containers are a warning sign; reminding me of my obsessions and the lengths I will go to, to satisfy them.
Last weekend, my husband added a shelf to my glass cabinet. This meant removing all the glasses with great care. In re-arranging the glasses back on the shelves, I left the best for last: my collection. And that is when it happened. A deafening crash. One small vessel was no more.
In some circles a digestif may be an ordinary occurrence. In my circle, even my facebook circle, imbibing a digestif is still a rarefied experience, but after the destruction of one of my prized glasses, 11 am was not too early to pour myself a drop of grappa in a glass from Bassano Del Grappa.