Finding Creative Inspiration
in Homemade Cookies and Blown Glass

There’s something magical about creating from scratch, whether a batch of homemade cookies or a beautiful piece of blown glass. Both processes require patience, attention to detail, and creativity! For me, they’ve always been intertwined—more than just artistic pursuits; they are part of a family tradition that shaped my approach to work and life.

Growing up, my grandma was my creative mentor, especially during the holiday season. Every year, we would bake cookies together in her cozy kitchen, where the air was thick with the scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and sugar. These baking sessions, filled with laughter, patience, and love, played a profound role in shaping my creative journey.

As a young child, I was fascinated by how my grandma would gently roll out the dough, cut intricate shapes with cookie cutters, and decorate them with care. She always reminded me to take my time, focus on each step, and appreciate the process rather than rushing to the end. At the time, I didn’t realize that those moments would lay the foundation for my future as a glass artist. The lessons she imparted—patience, precision, and an appreciation for the beauty in small details—became cornerstones of my creative path.

Now, as a glass artist, I find that baking and glassblowing are more alike than I ever imagined. Both require a deep understanding of materials and a keen sense of timing. Just like in baking, the right mixture of ingredients must come together in harmony, then be carefully heated and shaped. Both crafts demand a delicate balance between control and letting go, where you shape the work while allowing it to take on its own form. Just as my grandma decorated each cookie with love, I shape each piece of glass with the same care, always remembering her lessons of patience, precision, and creativity. Her influence is woven into every aspect of my creative process.

Baking cookies with my grandma wasn’t just about making something sweet to enjoy—it was about learning to trust the process, embrace creativity, and celebrate the act of creating something beautiful with your hands. Whether in the kitchen or in the glassblowing studio, I carry those lessons with me. Through this connection to my grandma and the tradition of making, I continue to find inspiration in the most unexpected places.

My Creative Roots: Cookies with Grandma

Baking cookies with my grandma was the highlight of every holiday season. The kitchen would be filled with the smells of butter and sugar, and our laughter would echo as we worked together, flour dusting the air. We’d spend hours mixing, rolling, and cutting dough, and I always looked forward to this special tradition. But more than just baking, these moments were about the experience itself, the memories we created, and the lessons my grandma taught me—lessons that didn’t fully resonate with me until years later.

From a young age, my grandma was teaching me more than just how to make cookies—she was instilling a deeper understanding of creativity. It wasn’t about following a recipe or making the cookies perfect—it was about the intention and care you put into each action. She showed me how to be present in the moment, appreciate each step, and put a little piece of yourself into everything you do. Whether it was cutting out shapes or decorating the cookies, her approach was always thoughtful and deliberate. I learned that creativity isn’t rushed—it’s about patience, paying attention, and embracing imperfections along the way.

The emotional impact of those holiday baking sessions has stayed with me throughout my life. The love and patience that went into each batch of cookies were not just part of the tradition; they were foundational to how I approach everything I create. My grandma taught me that it’s not just about the end result, but the journey and joy found in the process. Those cookies were never just treats—they were tangible reminders of her care, creativity, and belief in making something beautiful from simple ingredients.

Today, as a glass artist, I carry these lessons with me. When I step into the studio to create a new piece, I reflect on the same principles my grandma taught me. Like the dough we carefully shaped together, each piece of glass has its own form and rhythm, requiring patience and attention. And just as the cookies were never identical, my glasswork is never the same, and that’s okay—there’s beauty in the variations, the little imperfections. My grandma’s influence is deeply embedded in my creative process. The love, patience, and tradition she instilled in me through baking have become the essence of how I approach my craft. Whether baking cookies or creating a glass piece, I always try to remember the value of the journey and the joy of the creative process itself.

The Cookie-Making Creative Process

Baking Christmas cookies may seem simple, but for me, it’s always been a deeply creative process packed with intention and artistry at every step. The first part of the journey was always the most exciting—choosing the recipes and picking out the ingredients. Each decision felt like an artistic choice, setting the foundation for what was to come. We’d carefully select our favorite recipes, making sure to have all the ingredients on hand: sugar, flour, butter, and, of course, a touch of holiday spice. Every ingredient had to be measured precisely, just as an artist would mix their paints or a sculptor would select their materials. There was a sense of satisfaction in knowing that the right balance of ingredients would lead to something beautiful, both in taste and appearance. But even before we got to the fun part, there was already a creative rhythm in those early decisions, where every choice mattered.

Once the ingredients were measured, mixed, and ready, the real fun began…rolling out the dough, cutting out shapes, and preparing to decorate. This was where the tactile and sensory experience of baking took over. The dough felt soft and malleable in my hands, and there was something so satisfying about pressing the cookie cutters into the dough to create intricate shapes. Each one was unique, each one a blank canvas for creativity. The act of decorating was where I had the freedom to express myself. The icing became my paintbrush, and the sprinkles, colored sugars, and little candies were like the final flourishes on a painting. Every cookie was an individual work of art, each slightly different from the next, and that sense of artistic freedom was one of the most exciting parts of the process.

The final touches, however, were what made the experience truly special. Once the cookies were done, there was immense pride in sharing them with family and friends. There’s something so satisfying about offering the fruits of your labor to others, watching their eyes light up as they take a bite and admire the designs. It’s not just about the cookies themselves—it’s about the joy of giving, of seeing others appreciate the care and creativity you put into something. This moment mirrored the feeling I get when I finish a glass piece and present it to someone. Watching them marvel at the work, seeing them connected to it in some small way, was the ultimate reward. It wasn’t just about the cookies but the shared experience, the tradition, and the joy of creating something meaningful together.

Looking back on those moments, I realize how the cookie-making process influenced how I approach my creative work today. Each step—planning, creating, and sharing—remains as important now as it did then. Just like with glassblowing, it’s not only about the final product; it’s about the experience, the joy, and the impact that the act of creation can have on others.

The Blown Glass Creative Process

Blowing glass is a different kind of creative beast, but when I think about it, the process shares many of the same principles I learned while baking cookies with my grandma. Just like in baking, glassblowing begins with planning and preparation. Before I can get to the hands-on creation, I have to conceptualize the design, choose the right materials, and gather all the necessary tools. Each decision, from picking the color of the glass to selecting the right tools for shaping, is like choosing the right ingredients for a batch of cookies. The materials I use in glassblowing are as important as the flour, sugar, and butter in baking—each one plays a vital role in the final product, and every choice has a lasting impact on the outcome.

The creative work begins once everything is in place, the workspace is prepared, and the tools are ready. Blowing glass requires a combination of technical skill and artistic intuition. Just as I would mix, roll, and cut the dough when baking, I now work with molten glass, using heat, pressure, and my hands to shape it into the design I envision. The process is intense—just like rolling out dough, where you must keep a steady hand and careful attention to detail. Every move I make with the glass is deliberate, and every adjustment adds a unique touch to the piece. Creating glass art, like decorating cookies, requires decisions on the fly, from altering the shape to adding intricate details. It’s a tactile and sensory experience that demands creativity and precision.

When the piece is finally completed, I’m filled with the same satisfaction I felt when pulling a batch of cookies from the oven. Seeing the final result—a delicate glass vase or a colorful bowl—fills me with pride. Much like the joy of seeing others enjoy the cookies, there’s an immense emotional and artistic fulfillment in knowing that the piece is a tangible manifestation of hard work, passion, and creativity. The satisfaction comes not just from the physical beauty of the piece but from the knowledge that it was made with care, intention, and a deep love for the craft. It’s that same joy I felt as a child, watching my cookies come to life in the oven, now mirrored in the glass studio as I watch molten glass transform into something beautiful, unique, and lasting.

Whether I’m baking cookies or crafting a glass piece, the process reflects the same principles: intention, creativity, and the joy of making something with my own hands. Completing each project brings a deep sense of accomplishment, a moment of reflection on how far I’ve come, and a renewed sense of inspiration for the next creation.

Keep the Tradition Going!

One of the most significant aspects that unites both creative outlets is tradition. In baking, the recipes are often passed down through generations, creating a sense of continuity and connection. The same holds true for glassblowing, where techniques and styles are often rooted in long-standing traditions. The joy of both processes lies in honoring those traditions while putting your unique stamp on the work. There’s a sense of respect for what came before and the freedom to add something new—an innovation in the recipe or a twist on a classic glass shape. That personal touch, informed by tradition, makes the results meaningful, whether the cookies are shared around a holiday table or a beautifully crafted piece of glass art.

The real magic lies in the emotional connection to both processes. While the sensory experiences and final products differ, they tie me back to my grandma. Her love, patience, and attention to detail shaped how I approach creativity in baking and glassblowing. Even when she is not with me, I feel her presence in the kitchen, her steady hand guiding mine as we decorate cookies, and I carry that same sense of care and intention into the studio when I’m creating glass. Each process, though different in its outcome, reflects her teachings and honors the memories we share. Whether I’m shaping the dough or molten glass, I’m constantly reminded of the lessons she taught and continues to teach me: to be present, to appreciate the process, and to infuse every creation with love and care.

Baking with Grandma: A Recipe for Creative Inspiration