Blown Beauty Garfield Couple Devoted To Each Other And Their Art

In a sultry garage tucked in the middle of this farming community, love and art flourish.

Jack Doebler and Mary Kernan are surrounded by blistering hot ovens. With their breath, their hands and a few simple tools, they turn globs of molten glass into works of beauty.

Out of their devotion to each other and to their art, the two created New Morning Glass Studio. They will host their grand opening today, complete with a glass ribbon-breaking.

After that they will be open to the public on the weekends and by appointment during the week.

“We work all the time together,” Kernan says. “When we are not working together, we feel the alienation.”

In addition to working in the studio, the two share the jobs of painting the community pool and driving a school bus part time.

Getting by for the couple is as much of an art form as blowing glass.

Doebler has worked as a ranch hand, a surgical assistant and served in the Navy.

Kernan boasts 17 “weird jobs” throughout her life, including working for the U.S. Postal Service and cooking in a hospital kitchen.

“Sometimes life just kind of jumps up and does stuff to you,” Doebler says.

It happens while working the glass - a vase suddenly becomes a bowl. It happens in life, a job suddenly disappears or a marriage falls apart.

They both had that opportunistic, survivor mentality when they met 11 years ago at Eastern Oregon State College.

The only Northwest college with a glass-blowing program, Kernan was there to start her life over after a divorce.

Doebler was going to college part-time and working on a ranch. He had first blown glass with his buddies in Lawrence, Kan.

“It was something I started out being very good at it, which is not usually the case with a beginner,” he says. When he moved to Oregon, he was surprised to discover a glass-blowing program at the nearby college.

By the time Kernan arrived and needed a glass-blowing partner, Doebler was a teaching assistant. They clicked instantly.

At the time, each had a 2-year-old boy and a vision of starting a studio.

Three years ago they moved to Garfield, attracted by the small town lifestyle.

“It’s a boy kind of place,” Kernan says. “Our children always come first. It’s so wonderful to see your kids ride off on their bikes, with their fishing poles.”

In addition to starting a glass-blowing studio in their garage, the couple is growing a huge vegetable garden and a sizable crop of garlic, which they also plan to sell.

Kernan wants to get Angora goats, so she can spin their wool into yarn for clothing.

“The whole idea in moving to Garfield was to be self-sufficient,” Doebler says.

The couple works in their studio almost every morning. They reach into the ovens with long steel tubes and pull out glowing blobs of glass.

They start with a color chip. While constantly spinning the pole, they blow, reheat and shape. A form emerges.

A wet newspaper separates Kernan’s hand from the glowing blob as she shapes the body of a vase.

“I want the glass to have a sensual feel to it when you pick it up,” she says.

The ovens range from 500 to 3,000 degrees Fahrenheit. By the end of the day, they usually have first-degree burns on their hands and arms.

“It’s so hard to put into words about the heat and the intensity and the fire. That’s why we want to do demonstrations,” Kernan says.

“Most glass blowers are pyromaniacs,” Doebler jokes.

Their working styles are different, but complementary.

Before Doebler begins, he often has a clear picture in his mind of what he is making. Kernan lets the glass take on its own shape.

The result is a vivid variety of bowls, jars, vases and bottles.

Every piece is one-of-a-kind. They hope starting the studio will give them the autonomy they crave. They alone decide what goes on display and at what price. They pride themselves are producing affordable pieces, starting at about $20.

They tried designing pieces for specialty stores, but found the work too restricting. One store wanted glass apples, but only long thin ones with a straight stem, Doebler says.

“See this one,” he says, picking a small plump apple off a shelf in the studio. “I love this little apple, but they wouldn’t like it.”

They plan to continue branching out in their creative pursuits.

“If you come here a year from now, shoot, a month from now, you are going to see something different,” Doebler says. “We will always be evolving.”