About

Maxine Davis Glass Artist

Color and whimsy: That’s my passion! Life is tough enough. Laugh!

Maxine Davis glass artist was born in retirement. No, retirement isn’t sitting in a chair….it’s another life…. with a few aches and pains thrown in and no need to be anywhere too early in the morning. My first life entrusted with the care of two baby brothers and some of the neighbors kids too. Next life, 44 years: wife, mother, social worker and child psychologist (Columbia and Seton Hall). My third life overlapped the second.

I traveled the world, for months at a time, as a consultant in child development, special education and children’s issues for the US Foreign Aid program. Throw in a shot at programming the controlling computers of industrial sweater knitting machinery (family business); caring for a husband and family for 59 years (and counting); twelve grandchildren, a few “greats”; raising pigs, sheep, chickens and beef cattle on the Vermont farm we call home; 5 years of creating community wide events to raise tons of food for the hungry in South Carolina; and add my love for glass and you can begin to get an idea of who I am.

For me, combining all of my experiences with the vibrancy of the fused glass, in fact, brings forth a folk like quality and naivety with exploding colors to my work. My training in art came through life long learning at colleges in Vermont as well as in South Carolina. The transition from paint brush to glass has been since 2010.

My wall panels tell stories. Sometimes they are like old toys (patchwork critters), remembered events (laundry day and hanging up the wash), current experiences (seeing a father with his children), watching children react with animals (child with cow), memories of travel (lady with yellow hat, skylines and scenery), my summers at the beach (looking at the water from the angle of the shell) or just fun (neighbors of dogs and a cat gossiping). Allow yourself to remember back as well with these paintings in glass.

The wind chimes create memories but are different for everyone. The watering cans remind me of my garden days and the milk pails of my farm times. Remembered music comes to me when the winds hit them, however, I’m certain there are different memories for others.

Color and light permeate my bowls and platters Memories of family dinners and parties return while others in their intricacy of pattern remind me of my craze for puzzles.

We are a product of all of our experiences, some we keep private others we share with our stories and memories. Share mine in my glass.