Inside the Studio 45 classroom, one by one, the students took their seats. All women, some exchanged smiles while others simply took in the room. A brief stillness settled in—the kind that comes before something new begins.
Before the class began, Studio 45 founder Karen Weldin welcomed the group.
“You’re part of something just beginning,” she said. “This is the start of it—a space that’s still taking shape.”
Then, just as naturally, she stepped aside. In her place stood Shannon Mabry.
Her path to this moment had not begun in a classroom. Years ago, traveling through Europe, she studied carved stonework—wondering how such precision was achieved.
“I kept trying to figure out how they made those pieces fit so perfectly,” she said. “Then I saw fused glass—and realized this was another way to do it.”
She has worked in glass for more than thirty years.
Mabry began with the material itself, lifting pieces of glass into the light and pointing out variations in color, texture, and how each might respond once fired. One by one, the students made their selections. Only then did the tools come out.
Glass cutters were passed around as Mabry demonstrated how to hold them and where to apply pressure.
“There’s a rhythm to it,” Mabry said. “You don’t force it—you let it happen.”
The room grew quiet. At first, the movements were tentative. Each student leaned in, drawing a faint line across the glass.
Then came the moment.
They pressed.
Snap. A small, unmistakable sound.
Heads lifted. Smiles followed.
“I wasn’t sure I could do it,” one student said. “But then it just… worked.”
A few quiet laughs moved through the room.
For Beth Parker, the moment revealed something a little deeper.
“With her thirty years of experience, her calm demeanor, and her generosity of spirit, Shannon made the class rewarding,” Parker said. “We created sun catchers and sculpted glass pieces, designing our own patterns—mine was based on a heart. I love learning new skills, but I also love the community around a shared artistic experience. I enjoy the laughter and the ah-ha moments.”
What begins as a flat piece of glass is placed into the kiln and left to transform.
“At some point, you have to let the kiln do its work,” Mabry said.
“You never know what you’re going to wake up to. It’s like Christmas.”
In that moment, Studio 45 felt like something more than a gallery. The space is taking shape as a place where artists share not only their work, but how it comes to life with others.
As the class came to a close, students gathered their pieces, knowing the final result would not be seen for several days.
Under heat and time, something takes shape.
And much like the kiln’s quiet transformation, something just as unexpected begins within the people who come to learn—often only after they’ve stepped back and let it happen.