“That moment when someone leans in, wide-eyed, and asks, Did you just make that?—that spark of wonder is when everything aligns: your craft, the vibe, and the people.”
With more than 30 years behind the torch, he has traveled coast to coast, turning fire and sand into wearable art while leaving a mark on the festival scene and the hearts of those who watch him work.
Now a veteran glassblower, Sasquatch Sarsaparilla came from humble beginnings with a bucket of scrap glass, and has since inspired the next generation through live demos and teaching. His journey is one of passion, resilience, and creativity.
We recently met up with Sarsaparilla at Witch DR. in Salem to learn more about his evolution as an artist, the power of community, and the magic that happens when molten glass meets music, movement, and meaning.
You’ve spent two decades blowing glass and traveling to festivals—how has the festival scene influenced your style and approach to your work?
It’s actually been three decades—I started blowing glass full time in 1994 after transitioning from silversmithing. Originally, I wanted to set glass cabochons in silver, but my pipe-maker friends didn’t want to make them for me. Instead, they gave me scrap buckets and a beat-up National torch. Once they saw what I could create from scraps, they handed me real material—and the rest is history.
The festival scene has kept my art creative and affordable. I believe everyone should be able to enjoy art—not just a select few. The energy from the people you meet at festivals is fuel for creativity. Those freaks and weirdos are my people, and the connections you make out there can last decades.
What was one of the most memorable or transformative moments you experienced while working live at a music festival or event?
One of the most transformative moments was feeling the instant connection with the crowd—especially when the fire, sweat, and rhythm of the music sync with the energy of creating something by hand. Imagine the sun setting behind the stage, bass thumping, and a group of people gathered around, mesmerized as molten glass transforms into a hummingbird or wig wag pendant right in front of them.
That moment when someone leans in, wide-eyed, and asks, Did you just make that?—that spark of wonder is when everything aligns: your craft, the vibe, and the people.
How have you seen the glassblowing community evolve over the last 20 years, especially with the rise of social media and live demos at events?
Over the past three decades, I still get excited about color. When I started, there were only a few reliable colors to work with. As the community grew, so did the color palette—now we have hundreds of options.
Back in the day, if you wanted to learn, you had to hit the road—like I did in 2009 for DFO—or attend flame-offs to meet artists. Everything was more secretive. Today, there’s so much information online—YouTube, Instagram, Facebook groups—it’s more accessible than ever. Newer glassblowers have it easier when it comes to both learning techniques and getting inspired.
What are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced while building a career as a traveling artist, and how did you overcome them?
Raising my kids while being a full-time glassblower was tricky, especially in the early years. As they got older, I focused more on local fairs, farmers markets, and New England craft shows. I still had consistent buyers in local smoke shops, but without a weekly paycheck, it was tough.
Eventually, I made my kids part of the journey. My daughter was nervous but did great, and my son didn’t love it then—but now he embraces the festival scene. Balancing family and finances was definitely a challenge, but we adapted.
Now that you’re teaching, what core values or techniques do you try to instill in your students that reflect your journey and experiences?
I’ve always had a passion for sharing glassblowing. I used to run summer programs where I’d do demos for kids—each one picking a color for a mushroom pendant, which I’d help them turn into a necklace. I even worked with Easter Seals kids through a summer arts program, doing glass demos for 90 kids weekly.
That’s when I realized the power of art—if I can inspire one kid to turn their art into a career, it’s worth it. Today, I still enjoy sharing glassblowing with people like you. My biggest message: keep it fun and creative.
Can you describe a piece that you feel best represents your growth as an artist, and the story behind its creation?
That’s a tough one. Honestly, all my art represents my growth—it’s hard to pick a single piece. I focus on creating affordable, off-hand wearable art—something anyone can own. That’s who I am. I’ve never chased high-priced collector pieces; instead, I create pendants, medallions, bracelets, marbles, rings, and the occasional old-school inside-out pipe or glow-in-the-dark skull bubbler.
What advice would you give to up-and-coming glass artists who dream of turning their passion into a sustainable career?
Make sure your heart’s in it—because this path has highs and lows, no matter your medium. There’s no weekly paycheck, so you have to adjust and grind even on the hard days. Put in the work, especially when you don’t feel like it. And remember—it’s art. Keep it real, keep it you.
Where can our readers find you melting?
Step into the wild world of Sasquatch Sunday—a weekly live glassblowing experience at the Witch DR. in Salem. From wig wags to spirit totems, each piece is made live with fire, skill, and a touch of Sasquatch magic. You can also find me working at a shared studio in Gardner alongside Fidget Glass, Engelmann Glass, Matt 2000 Glass, and Anton Glass.
