My new honey seems to enjoy getting little email messages from me late in the afternoon, when lunchtime diversions have all been put away and there is too much time on the clock before he can think about going home. Scanning the web for songs, or photos, or YouTube clips, I have been enjoying finding interesting or funny things to send him.

Last week, through the LA Times: Online Edition, I found a link to a gallery of sculptures made out of sand. It featured castles and fortresses, gargoyles and mermaids, and so much more. And I started to think about making art out of sand. Why would people do this? You finish a piece, maybe take a few pictures to prove that something amazing was made, then walk through the structure or let the wind or sun eat away at it. Art made of sand doesn’t last. It cannot last.

Well, of course, there might be contests or friendly competitions. In some of the shots on this online gallery, it seemed like they were having exhibitions at boardwalks or beach town shopping malls, as if sand sculpture was a whole genre onto itself.

But I kept coming back to the basic question: Why put so much love and energy into something that can’t last? I thought about the popular, cynicism on steroids, aphorisms. “Here today. Gone tomorrow.” “Life’s short. Then you die.”

Well, efforts needn’t be about getting a prize, or besting a buddy, or topping out the applause meter. I used to love the Joni Mitchell song, Real Good For Free. “…And I play if you have the money/Or if you’re a friend to me/But the one man band/By the quick lunch stand/He was playing real good, for free.”

So, even if the sand castles, or gritty brown sea creatures, or expansive and imaginative scenes from a Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale won’t make the night, they are ever so worthwhile for the artist to sweat and smile over.

I imagine some people make sand sculptures simply because they are good at it, or maybe just because this kind of play gives them pleasure.

Making dinner, or singing in the shower, telling a story, or writing a computer program: We can always do more to imprint our spirits on the world around us. The art is not in the viewing, but in the making.

Making your life a work of art, and a source of pleasure, regardless of how long or short it is, is no small thing.