How Many Ways Can Lampworking Burn You? More Than You Might Think

When you tell someone you work with a torch and molten glass, there is one danger that seems pretty obvious: you can get burned.

But after years of lampworking, I've learned that the flame itself is only part of the story.

I recently asked other glass artists a simple question:

“What are some less obvious ways lampworkers can get burned? What got you?”

I expected a few stories about hot tools and flying glass.

Instead, the responses poured in.

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More than 100+ comments later, I was reading about burns from mandrels, tools, kilns, glass rods, popping glass, molten glass that landed in clothing, glass that fell into shoes, hot objects picked up without thinking, and, yes, plenty of people who simply put a hand, arm, face, or other body part somewhere near the flame that it definitely shouldn't have been.

Some of the stories were funny in hindsight. Some were painful just to read. A few involved serious burns.

And collectively, they made one thing very clear:

Knowing that glass is hot and learning to live around that heat are two very different things.

Sometimes It's Not the Glass

One of the most common themes was something I've experienced myself: the object that burned you wasn't necessarily the glass.

Tools get hot.

Mandrels get hot. Mandrels are the thin metal rods lampworkers wind molten glass around to form beads. Because they sit so close to the flame and hot glass, heat can travel farther down the rod than a beginner might expect.

The end of a glass rod can stay hot long after you've forgotten which end was in the flame.

Tweezers, mashers and other tools can become surprisingly hot simply because they've been working close to molten glass.

Several artists described grabbing something they had temporarily forgotten was hot. One person reached for a tool and burned a thumb. Another mentioned the innocent-looking end of a rod. Others talked about tools lying on the bench that looked exactly like every other tool, except one had just been in the flame.

I've done this too. I've burned myself on hot tools and on tools that had simply touched hot glass.

That's one of the strange things about lampworking. There isn't always a visual warning. Something doesn't have to be glowing red to be hot enough to burn you. Oftentimes glass that looks cool is still extremely hot!

And Then There Is the Glass That Goes Somewhere It Shouldn't

This may have been the category with the most memorable stories.

Hot glass doesn't always politely remain at the end of the mandrel.

Glass pops. Rods shock. Pieces fly.

And gravity has an unfortunate sense of humor.

People described hot glass landing in laps, pockets, shirts, bras, and shoes. One commenter had hot glass go down a shirt. Another mentioned glass getting into clothing and continuing to burn while they tried frantically to get it out.

I've had this happen myself.

A piece of hot glass popped off and went down my shirt. In the process of trying to get it out, I managed to burn both my chest and my finger. Plus, my apron was tied on, which made it even harder to get the shirt away from my skin. Eventually, it burned right through my shirt, and I was so grateful I didn't catch on fire. I did get back to work that day once my pounding heart calmed down.

Apparently one burn wasn't enough.

That's one of those experiences that sounds almost comical afterward, but while it is happening, your only thought is, GET IT OUT.

And sometimes that's when the second burn happens.

Flying Glass Has Its Own Agenda

Thermal shock came up repeatedly.

Anyone who has worked with glass for long knows that distinctive ping or pop. Sometimes nothing dramatic happens.

Sometimes a tiny piece of extremely hot glass launches itself across your workspace.

Several artists described marks on their arms, chest, or clothing from little pieces of glass. One person mentioned small burns around the bench from popping glass. Another described molten glass landing against skin before there was even time to react.

Those tiny pieces are an important reminder that the danger in the workspace isn't limited to the visible flame.

The torch may be sitting in one place.

The glass doesn't always cooperate.

Glass Can Cut You, Too

Burns may be the first thing people think about with lampworking, but sharp glass is another very real studio hazard.

I’ve cut myself plenty of times over the years. Broken rods, snapped ends, tiny shards on the workbench, or pieces of glass on the floor can all catch you when you least expect it.

One habit I’ve developed is never leaving a glass rod with a sharp broken end. If I snap a rod, I’ll usually put that end back into the flame and melt it smooth before setting it aside. It only takes a few seconds, and it makes the rod much safer to handle later.

I also vacuum my studio regularly. Tiny pieces of glass have a way of traveling farther than you think, and the ones you don’t notice are often the ones that end up in a finger—or eventually under a shoe.

It’s another one of those little studio habits that comes from experience. You start realizing that safety isn’t just about what happens while the torch is lit. It’s also about how you leave the space when you’re finished.

The Torch Gets You Too

Of course, sometimes the obvious answer really is the answer.

People burn themselves on the torch.

They brush an arm against it. They reach across it. They lean forward at exactly the wrong moment.

And occasionally someone simply forgets where the flame is.

My worst burn happened that way.

For just a second, I put my hand in front of the flame.

That was all it took.

I ended up with second-degree burns. It was extremely inconvenient and certainly not something I ever want to repeat, although fortunately my hand healed beautifully. It was on the side of my thumb. This meant I could still do most things, but it was super inconvenient for months while it healed.

A second doesn't sound like very long.

In front of a lampworking torch, it is plenty.

Hair, Clothes and Everything Else We Bring to the Torch

Another theme running through the comments had less to do with equipment and more to do with us.

Hair.

Sleeves.

Synthetic clothing.

Pockets.

Shoes.

One commenter described burning hair. Others talked about sleeves or clothing getting too close to the heat. Several stories involved hot glass becoming trapped against the body because it landed inside clothing instead of bouncing away.

There were even reminders about jewelry and other things we wear around the torch.

It makes sense when you think about it. Lampworking isn't simply hands interacting with glass. Your entire upper body is sitting surprisingly close to a very hot workspace.

And after you've worked at the torch hundreds or thousands of times, that environment starts to feel normal.

Perhaps that's when some of the strangest accidents happen.

The Burn You Don't Expect Is Often the One That Gets You

What struck me most while reading the responses wasn't that experienced glass artists have been burned.

Of course we have.

It was how many different ways we've managed to do it.

Some people had been working with glass for decades and still had a recent story.

Experience makes you better at recognizing hazards, but it doesn't make heat stop being hot.

You become comfortable at your torch. Your hands know where to go. You develop routines. You stop consciously thinking about every movement.

Most of the time, that's exactly what allows us to create.

But occasionally a tool isn't where you thought it was. A rod shocks. Something rolls. You reach across the bench. A piece of molten glass takes an unexpected trip down your shirt.

And suddenly you're reminded exactly what you're working with.

What Experienced Lampworkers Learn to Do Differently

Most of us don’t stop working with glass because we get burned. We adjust.

We learn where the hot tools go. We become more careful about which end of a rod we grab. We stop reaching across the flame. We tie back our hair, think differently about clothing, and develop little routines around the bench that probably look automatic to anyone watching.

Those habits are part of becoming an experienced lampworker. Not because accidents never happen again, but because over time you learn where the risks really are.

Why We Keep Going Back to the Flame

Despite all of these stories, we keep going back to the torch.

That probably says something about how much lampworkers love the process. There is something incredibly satisfying about taking a solid rod of glass, introducing it to the flame, and watching it become soft enough to shape into something entirely new.

We get burned. We learn. We adjust how we work. We become more careful about where we place tools, how we handle rods, what we wear, and how aware we are of the space around the flame.

But most of us don’t walk away from glass.

We go back to the torch because the process is still fascinating, and because creating something beautiful from molten glass is worth learning how to do safely.

What Surprised Me Most

What surprised me most in reading all of these stories was how many came from experienced lampworkers. These weren’t all beginners making obvious mistakes. Some people had been working with glass for years or even decades.

That was probably the biggest lesson of the whole discussion: experience makes you more skilled and more aware, but it doesn’t make the heat any less real.

Respect the Heat, Don't Fear It

This isn't meant to scare anyone away from lampworking.

Quite the opposite.

Glass is an amazing medium, and working with molten glass can keep you fascinated for years.

But I think new lampworkers need to hear stories that don't always make it into beginner instructions.

Yes, protect your eyes.

Yes, use proper ventilation.

Yes, learn how to operate your torch and kiln safely.

But also remember that the end of that rod may still be hot. The tool you just used may be hot. Glass can pop. Hot things can roll. Molten glass can end up in remarkably inconvenient places.

And no matter how many years you've worked at the torch, don't become so comfortable that you stop respecting it.

The flame is beautiful.

The glass is mesmerizing.

And the heat is very, very real.

Thank you to the lampworking community:

Many of the examples in this article came from a lively Facebook discussion where fellow glass artists shared the surprising ways they’ve been burned over the years. Thank you to everyone who contributed their stories and helped make this article more useful for newer lampworkers. You can view all the comments here.

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• Lampwork Colors & Glass Art Blog

Photo Credits:

• Flameworking images by Stephanie White