Rambling about the dirt

ranunculus in one of my pots

When I was working at Lill Street, there was a woman who said that clay was not dirt, but I realize there is a relationship between clay, dirt, and the earth.  I've always thought potters have a sense of spiritual centeredness much the same way carpenters do.  Some say it comes from working with our hands. I've heard others say it comes from making long physical contact with something natural and old. Maybe it's because the act of creating gives one time to think and to reflect. 

Although clay may not be dirt, I've noticed many potters have an affinity for gardening.   I've often thought that somehow we must be drawn to something that comes from the earth.   Gardening  also, like pottery, gives one time to work their hands to reflect, to remember, and to be grateful. 

helleborus planted in the garden

I live off a busy Chicago street and often when I garden in the front of my house I reflect on my neighbor, Katie. I remember once as I was bending over, planting flowers in the front of the house, cars kept honking at me. I presumed these were piggish men who were honking at my butt.  A little bit later, Katie came out to garden, and before long, cars were honking at her.  I asked, "Doesn't it make you mad when they honk?"  To which she responded, "It would make me mad if they didn't honk."   I laughed, enjoying her perspective on things. 

Now whenever I garden in the front of my house, I reflect upon Katie's friendship, I am grateful for her perspective, and I smile.