My name is Micah, and I build stained glass windows. My shop's in the middle of nowhere, I thrive on isolation like a troll. I've inhaled flux and lead fumes, shed blood and nearly sanded my fingerprints off. For such beautiful end result it's filthy work, my shop can look like a crime scene. I also get very attached. It's wrenching to give them up, they mean more to me than money.



Radiant windows of Saint John's Church
My first and most important stained glass inspiration

At less than a week old I was drenched in the hyper sensuous environment of Latin prayers, Gregorian chants, red votive candles flickering in dark alcoves, the sweet spicy haze of incense, Italian marble, thunderous pipe organ, the towering, sometimes gory statues of Christ and the Saints, all wrapped in a cacoon of world class German windows vaulting upwards of 100 feet. The Catholic parish of 1906 Bradford, Illinois, pop. 850, had built an amazing gem in the middle of the prairie. It was good luck to be born there.

Snowman's Rest