The Profound Joy of Building Castles in the Sand

Strolling along our neighborhood beach last week, I grinned and waived when I spotted my favorite artist. He was packing up his sculpting tools, having completed that day’s creation. I walked over to admire his sculpture and, frankly, to gape in wonder at the elegant details he’d incorporated in that week’s sandcastle. He let me take the above photograph of him standing by his creation.

As we said our goodbyes, he mentioned the weather forecast for that night: thunderstorms. I winced at what that meant for the castle he’d so carefully constructed over the past two or three hours. But he just shrugged, smiled, and headed off the beach. As I watched him leave, I found myself filled with both confusion and admiration.

The expression “building castles in the sand” is a metaphor for creating something that is doomed to disappear. It can refer to plans, dreams, or efforts that are unlikely to last or come to fruition, much like a sandcastle that the tide or a rainstorm washes away.  And here was an artist who had just created something beautiful that would be gone by midnight. But he didn’t seem in the least bothered by that. Where was the joy in building a castle in the sand? In creating a work of art that would doomed for destruction that night?

But then I had an epiphany. He was hardly the only artist who found joy in creating something beautiful but ephemeral. Indeed, an entire realm of artistry is based upon the creation of something that will be enjoyed by others even as that creation disappears. Those artists, of course, are known as chefs.

And while the admirer of a sandcastle can experience that work of art through the sense of vision, the lover of great food experiences that work of art through all five senses. And just as remarkable, the chef at your favorite restaurant creates the equivalent of dozens and dozens of sandcastles every night, all of which have disappeared by the time the restaurant closes. And what does our chef make of this disappearance of his creations?

I happen to have firsthand knowledge of this, being married to an enthusiastic and innovative cook and culinary instructor who takes absolute delight in coming up with delicious new dishes (including delicious new takes on traditional dishes) to be enjoyed by her family, her friends, and her students. And nothing gives Margi more satisfaction than the sight of her culinary creations being eaten with delight. Indeed, when our five kids were growing up and Margi would present yet another new dish for dinner, I would offer the following advice: “Enjoy it, kids, cause you may never see this again.”

During our many years in St. Louis, Margi was a beloved culinary instructor at the Kitchen Conservatory. “Mornings with Margi” was always a sellout. This is one of my favorite photos from that era, when she was teaching a cooking class with three professional chefs, each with his own restaurant.

But I can’t end this without another shoutout to my favorite sculptor: