I was invited to quote on a potential window at St Peter-on-the-Quay, Minehead by Derek Williams of Minehead Glass, and duly visited the Chapel to investigate.

Met by Marcus and David James and Gerald Eccleston, I began to find out more; an anonymous donor wanted to commission a stained glass window as a central feature in the new windows at the front of the Chapel, the entire frontage of which had been restored by the aforementioned gentlemen.

The subject of the window was to be the Saint, Peter, to whom the chapel is dedicated. I was given a number of historic images of St Peter, sourced from the internet and the local library; one person liked this face; one person liked that stance; all were agreed that St Peter should be traditionally garbed in blue underclothes and brown gown, and be holding the keys to the Gates of Heaven, one silver, one gold. I then met the donor, who had another image for me, and we discussed the window at length. I too had found an image of St Peter - a 13th Century stained glass window from Merton College Chapel, Oxford, which inspired the background to the finished piece. Discussions completed it was time for me to go away and complete the design. I decided the best method was to make the Cartoon, to scale and fully detailed, which would give an actual (if paper) window which could be held up in-situ in the aperture it was destined for, in order to give the best possible visual idea. To achieve this I worked in pencil on tracing paper, then placed this tracing on a very simply water coloured piece of paper with lead-lines indicated, and each colour to be used blocked in. The Cartoon, or design stage of any window is a vital one - it is here that the artist weighs up exactly what shapes are to be used, none too large or too small, and none too likely to be weak, and hence break at the lightest tension. The structure of the lead must be considered carefully - it fills the vital role of encasing each piece of glass, separating every different colour - but it must be an integral part of the whole image, not the focal point.

Also at this stage, tiny pieces of glass must be carefully considered - for instance the feet - as the lip of the lead must not cover over any important detail (A mistake I learnt to my cost some years ago when the lead concealed the tip of a Saints nose in profile, and had to be cut back each side!).

When I was happy with the Cartoon I took it to Minehead Quay for all to see, and comment on any changes or improvements to be made. The idea of labelling the window with "St Peter" facing outwards for when the window was lit from inside during winter nights was one. I am very proud of this because it sets my window apart from any I have ever seen. It was also suggested that more colour could be included; I had purposefully left the background clear, as the window is flanked on both sides with clear glass, but in recognition of the wonderfully sunny aspect of the window, agreed that it could take more colour. Hence the olive green background, and mauve top and base.

I had also been busy painting and firing, and had taken the opportunity of painting three possible heads of the Saint, which at this stage had three firings, consisting the first, tracing the features, the second, shading the halo and the hair, and the third, flesh tones on the face. I took these pieces of glass with me to show the donor - who chose which one was to be used. This head was subsequently fired twice more with flesh tones, once more with shading, and finally with Silver Stain for the yellowing of the halo. Quite a process!

However, design approved, it was time to cut the window. Placing the approved head upon the Cartoon, glass cutting commenced, a stage I love - the window fleshing out piece by piece, the picture in my head finally becoming real. At this part of any window the more I work, the more I want to, and with such a lovely and detailed Cartoon this really was a joy.

Knowing this window was special, and would mean so much to so many people, I reached far into my glass cupboard and drew out three sheets of glass John Hayes had given me from the old Huish workshops some years ago: an amber hand made cathedral glass, which I used for the robes; a flashed blue, for the undergarments; and flashed red for the Good Book. These glasses are probably all Victorian - and were part of my special "hoard" which I rarely use - just look at occasionally! They were a pleasure to work with and cut and fired like a dream.

With the window cut and laid out it was time for the painting to begin. Each piece ground, to soften sharp edges during handling, and fully cleaned and dried ready for the image to be imposed upon it. The picture emerges as I work, the clothes, hands, feet, background, architectural features, top and base all take shape. Often at this stage I will paint the entire window, as I did here, even though my kiln will only fire one square foot at a time.

As my paint dries it returns to the dust it is, and I have to cover all unfired work thoroughly as it is my cats greatest delight to walk on and thus destroy the work - an occurrence which invariably leads to a big falling-out!

Upon completion of this first firing it is time to add shading, which gives depth to all of the different parts of the window, and which is achieved using larger brushes including the glasspainters famous badger-hair brush, and sticks and stippling brushes - for you both lay on the paint and, when dry, brush or scratch or stipple it off again, sort of painting and etching all in one. With the shading paint and the tracing paint it is a physical process, what you paint is what you get.

All of my painting is done on a light box, one which Peter made up for me from an old box which once belonged to Parson Smart. The light box allows me to gauge how much paint to apply to achieve an even effect, in light, as the function of the shading paint is to stop light.

I had a lot of difficulty achieving the right effect with the hands and feet and worked on them several times discarding at least two of each, and eventually, thinking I would never get it right, made Peter strip off his shoes and socks for me to draw his feet, and stand just so with his arms like this, no, left a bit …This extra study work paid dividends, and I am both pleased with the finished flesh parts, and more confident generally with hands and feet.

In all stained glass it is the final firing of the "Silver Stain" which completes the painting process and gives the trade its name. The "Silver Stain" is silver nitrate, which is applied to the reverse of the glass and laid face down in the kiln. The colour spectrum yellow to amber is gently imparted onto clear glass by a chemical process, which I can't explain as I don't fully understand how it works. I have simply learnt to do it. The areas stained yellow are the gold key, the halo, the architectural details and the "Saint Peter" plaque.

Firing completed, the final detail was to etch the pages of the Bible; working with a tiny industrial diamond drill I etched away the red flashed surface of the old glass, to reveal the clear glass underneath. I then covered this with a piece of sellotape to keep it clean during the next parts of the process, which get mucky!

Ready to be leaded the window is transferred to my workbench, which is fitted with a raised right angle. The edge leads (thicker and flatter) are placed along this angle and the glass and lead slotted together, starting from the top left corner, and finishing at the bottom right. Much like a puzzle.

Tallow is rubbed on the joins of the lead (where one piece meets another) and hot solder is applied to hold the joins in place permanently. The tallow acts as a flux, cleaning the lead to prevent oxidising from making the solder repel. The tallow is then cleaned off with a wire brush, and the window turned over for soldering the reverse.

Ironically the reverse of this window appears to be the front, as for the first time the plaque "St Peter" reads the right way around. I painted it backwards, as it is traditional for glass to be glazed with the painted side facing inward. There are two important reasons for this: firstly that the paint is crisp and clear, it would be less clear if painted on the reverse and viewed through the thickness (and any distortion) of the glass; secondly any weathering will not affect the painted surface.

Soldering completed, the final process is to rub cement into every groove of lead to solidify and weatherproof the window. This process is achieved with the use of a scrubbing brush and is so mucky I have taken to wearing rubber gloves. When the cement is in place, whiting is applied to cure it, and having slopped all this mess on the window it is now time to clean it. And clean it. And clean it.

The window was to be returned to Minehead Glass for glazing within safety and fire regulation glass, and inclusion in the Chapel. My final instructions to Derek were "don't forget to take the sellotape off the Bible!"