A Dirty Story
by Cass Fagan
I love dirt. Always have. It lets my creativity blossom.
One of my earliest memories is playing in the sandbox. It provided hours of joy as a child. My favorite creation was a mud pie, which was “baked” in the sun as it perched on the triangular corner seat of the sandbox. I used pebbles for cherries and a small old tin pie pan as the dish. My Great Aunt Hattie gave me that pie pan after she used it to make cinnamon pies just for me from leftover pie crust. I have made sure that both my daughter and granddaughter had a sandbox and cinnamon pies, too.
One could say that I just like to get dirty. Decades later, I’m still playing with dirt, but now I call it clay, when being formed into a pot or mud, when being tamped on newly planted seeds. I have a built-in need to create – be it a piece of pottery, quilts or a blooming landscape.
I grow a garden and flowers now for the pure joy of watching a tiny seed grow into a lush tangle of green. It is a true marvel of creation. Of course, my life’s biggest marvel of creation is my children and their children. New life is a God-given miracle filled with joy, hope and love. And, as was written by Paul centuries ago, the greatest of these is love. Outdoors, the multitude of living creatures let me hear their songs, but at the same time I enjoy the silence. Working in the dirt provides the best vantage point to smell the flowers and feel the breeze. To see the clouds above reminds me that there is most often a silver lining, for that I am grateful.
“Clay is just dirt,” as potters say. But, oh, that porcelain clay is such an elegant dirt. It is pure white, creamy smooth and sometimes translucent, as when the sun shines through my coffee cup in the morning. When creating with clay, I’m holding both present and future simultaneously. Joyfully. The simple beauty of crisp lines and right angles of porcelain boxes makes me feel that all is right with the world. Trying something new with that box makes it come alive for me. For example, embossing a thin strip of clay with coarse sandpaper to represent dirt brings me joy. The endless possibilities of clay let me embrace the infinite.
When my body becomes dirt, as in time it will, I suspect that my fascination with dirt will stop. However, I expect that new creative possibilities will be waiting for me.