ASHEVILLE, N.C. — For years the weight of what David Seligman witnessed during his military deployment laid heavy on his mind.
Amid molten glass and glowing tools, he found something unexpected — a way to not just reshape glass but himself.
"It started off as something that I wanted to do because I was just like, I really needed to heal ... like I had come out of the Army and all this stuff, and everything was catching up to me and to my mind. And I just couldn't, I was having a very difficult time moving forward, and I needed an outlet, some sort of creative outlet," Seligman said.
The North Carolina Glass Center, in the River Arts District of Asheville, became his safe haven.
“It became a place where if for the entire week my mind was full of of darkness and depression and sadness, I could come here for two hours or three hours or whatever, and shut all of that out," Seligman said.“It became a place where if for the entire week my mind was full of of darkness and depression and sadness, I could come here for two hours or three hours or whatever, and shut all of that out," Seligman said.
As life threw yet another battle at him, he leaned into his artwork.
Hurricane Helene tore through what was once the River Arts District, a place where artists could come together and share their love for creativity.
Floodwaters damaged buildings, roads and spaces where people came to socialize and homes that held memories.
“The water came up so fast that I don't think anybody was prepared. It impacted me in a way that I'm not used to seeing the River Arts District leveled. This is a safe space for me," Seligman said.
Seligman described the sight as something he once witnessed during his time in the Army.
"Everything was just covered in mud, which had dried and then was, you know, dirt. So it looked very much like Iraq," Seligman said.
The sights weren't the only triggers. The hum of FEMA's helicopters in the air was more than a noise — it was a haunting reminder of his past.
“Military helicopters and then the wind kicking up and all the buildings bathed in dirty sandy brown and everything. Like I had to stop for a moment, and I was with my wife and just like, 'We might as well be in Iraq right now, this is this is insane,'" Seligman said.
Typically, he’s able to harness that PTSD and other anxieties through art in the River Arts District, which is operating irregularly due to Helene.
It's a space that holds meaning for other artists too … dating back to when it originated in the 1980s.
According to the city's website, it attracted artists looking for low rent and became what it's known for today, streets lined with creations.
"It doesn’t look like an art district in Chicago or New York, it's affordable for artists and there's a lot of really solid art and really talented artists that are local and that are just coming up in their career," Seligman said.
While the River Arts District and spaces like the North Carolina Glass Center recover from Helene's wrath, Seligman remains patient.
Glass-making isn't about making it a career or being noticed, for him it holds a deeper meaning. It's a place where he can silence the thoughts in his mind, while encouraging other vets to find healthy outlets.
All of the proceeds from his work go back into veteran-based nonprofits to provide care for those who have left the service.
As he waits his turn to get back by the furnace, he's hopeful for a brighter future for Asheville.
“If all I see is despair, I can't heal. So I also have to see the hope for a better rebuild and making art, that work that goes into it to make an object that looks really beautiful, is it's very softening," Seligman said.