In the past couple of years I've thought about the flower and dirt soups I use to make when I was little. I wasn't nostalgic for dirt exactly, it was more the time spent doing insanely weird and creative things at any time of day for no reason other than for pure fun and joy. Yesterday at the art retreat we drew images of our earliest memories of creating, and I drew the toy kitchen that I used to make all kinds of pretend meals. We burned those drawings in the fire pit to release any blocks that come in between our natural desire to create. I sent off the inner critic, the lazy girl, and the one that thinks that grown ups with full time jobs are too tired and worn to spend the later hours of the weekday doing anything besides watching tv.
Today I stumbled across a spread that Ye Rin Mok photographed of Geoff McFetridge's craft projects for his little girl. This is the play kitchen he built. I just had a play-skool one, so whatevs, but it serves as a symbol for making things happen, even if you're just stirring around soft cold dirt and pink flowers. Serve it up.
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