Holding Leisa's glass makes me transfixed. The organic forms meld with my palm. I enjoy feeling their thickness of substance and presence. I find myself captivated by the bubbles suspended within the glass, each one seeming to gaze back at me. The glass brings back memories of hope during my turbulent times when I was utterly desperate.
In December 2018, I was in very bad shape: a double divorcee, separated from the father of my children and from my business partner—a dare you to beat my title. The correct words to describe my state were dishevelled, depressed, and defeated, still recovering from my car accident, where I shattered my sternum. The exit from Main Street Mornington was less than glorious. After an endless search for office space, Tom Crowder finally handed me a key to a ‘brand new’ office in the industrial estate of Mornington.
Leisa was the first one to come to my shoebox office at Carbine Way for her appointment to discuss her finances. As she walked in, I had been sitting in the dark and dejected place, surrounded by unpacked boxes and endless cords. I said to her, "How on earth am I going to see my clients in this coffin? It is so embarrassing!" "Leave it with me," she said... Yeah, the last things I could afford were designer lamps or hand-crafted glass walls… As an accountant, I have been in many offices, and I could see people spend an obscene amount of money on obnoxiously expensive and loud entourage. Visiting those offices made me feel apologetic for my humble presence. In especially offensively expensive offices, I imagined that chairs would swallow me as the cheapest item in the room.
Leisa, with the easiness of a 12-year-old kid, offered me to barter. Here it was, I am Tom Sawyer in great need of painting my fence... The arty Huckleberry Finn entered my life again. Her first housewarming present to me was a set of glasses with a water jug. I remember holding one of the glasses in my hand and thinking, "Well, at least I can offer water in designer glasses to my clients; that alone smells like hope to me!" Two desperados decided to trade, rejected by the big boys in the game called Life Monopoly. She only took one week to transform my closet into an office space, which was emitting serenity and a bit of class. Not too much, not too little, yet open and interesting, serving my independent boutique business.
Written by Nadia Hughes