Can you come out and play?

it’s a funny thing, when I post pics of me working, typically at a kitchen table, while all kinds of things are being created, bags of clay IMG_3660everywhere, tools thrown about, a real mess; the most common response i get is “I want to come play!”. I’ve heard this for years.  It makes me laugh a little because of the word “play”.  Am I playing?  It shoots me back to a memory I had visiting my Aunt Maureen for the first time in years, in Boston, with my cousins and my little daughter Lainey about seven years ago.  I had been gone a long time, so it was somewhat surreal being back among family again, and I was nervous about it.  My aunt Maureen was always the strict aunt, and memories of her brushing my hair so hard my scalp would bleed came rushing back like a slap.  We entered her impeccable home in IMG_1285Brighton, and as we sat down to dinner she said, “so what do you do?”.  I proceeded to explain I was an artist, and I worked with clay.   At which point, I got cut off, and she said, “so basically, you play with dirt? You mean like you did when you were a kid?”, she said this while she made a face, and maybe I detected a snuff that came out when she spoke.  My cousin shot her a glare and apologized to me with her eyes.  My little daughter jumped up and said, “she has a website!”, even knowing at this young age that I was being insulted and was trying to make me more legitimate.  I quickly changed the subject.   I bet she never did art in her life.  I wonder if she played.  Did she forget how?

Since then, when I hear, I want to come play when I post my work, or hear ‘you’re always playing with clay’, I do this tiny step back.  Am I playing?  Am I trying to pay bills? Am I working? Am I creating something from a deeper place within me that longs to play? I mean, my work is whimsical.  It is meant to make people smile, even laugh on occasion, so what’s the big freaking deal about the word “play”?  There was a time when I lived to hear, do you IMG_1114want to come out and play?  Maybe I need to find that little girl again, and just go out and play.  Nourish my human spirit. Things we forget to do, the simplest things. Play.  I guess I’m lucky that I get to “Play” every day!  I hope everybody else out there gets to play every day.  And better even, get paid for it.  Cheers to Playing!  (and working doing what you love)


Posted

in

by

Comments

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *