I was reminded that years ago I used to have regular art shows at my studio, monthly in fact. We would always have a creative thing for people to do. Once we had “shoot the sheet.” We put clothes dies in water pistols and let everyone create a joint piece of artwork, another time we had paper airplane contest, you should have seen all of the airplanes in my rafters. One time I had a mud pie contest. What surprised me was that so many people did not want to participate. They did not want to get their hands dirty. I am reminded of this as my newest apprentice said, she hates to have her hands dirty.
Is this a nature or nurture thing? Do some children just love playing in dirt and others can’t stand it? Did you make mud pies?
As I worked in the garden putting down the stone and pathways my tools were, a piece of foam to sit on, a small mallet that I often would use the wooden handle to push in the pebbles, a small hand shovel, and two small buckets one filled with pebbles or sand, the other to take things away. I also had two stones that I really need to paint a notice on , “mom’s caveman tool, do not misplace.” A simple triangle stone that fit perfectly in my hand and was great for smoothing or digging. I would sit on my foam mat, which has a wonderful Cezanne painting on the one side, my tools spread out about me and working on the space between my legs. ” You look like a little girl,” my husband commented. I often wonder were there characteristics that I had as a child that would have been an indication that I would have liked getting my hands dirty for a living? Playing in mud, clay, or digging in the dirt. I do know that I love the tactile feel of gardening. I know health wise I should probably put on gloves, but I don’t enjoy the experience as much. Was I born this way?