The sun at last. We pulled on our snow boots and walked the neighborhood, arriving at a place sacred to us, the Southport Beachhouse. It’s the site of our wedding reception and candlelight anniversary dinners on the beach.
Kerri packed a snow ball and another and another. She made a tiny snowman. We scrounged the snow for sticks, small cones for eyes. “He’s so cute!” she said. And then, “Do you think he knows the world is off its axis?”
“No.”
“Lucky snowman!” she sighed.
Horatio had me laughing during our call. He told me that the story of Job was meant to be a comedy and, in his telling, it was hysterically funny. He has me convinced. Grim circumstance is fodder for good humor. It’s why the classic slip-on-the-banana-peel is so funny. I told him that Kerri and I are waiting for the whale to burp. Despite what it seems, our time in the belly of the whale is temporary. Sooner or later, every good comedy comes to a happy ending.
The trick, I suppose, is to recognize that you are living in a comedy and it is better to laugh than shake your fist at the sky.
Sand paintings, like snowmen, are temporary. They are meant to invoke healing. They are meant to provide protection. “Do you think he’ll be here tomorrow?” Kerri asked as we walked away.
“No. He’ll enjoy his day in the sun and that will be it,” I said. She looked at me sideways.
Impermanence. A day in the sun. A snowman made for fun and not forever. In making it, we found an ounce of perspective, some tiny snowman healing.
read Kerri’s blog post about THE SNOWMAN
Filed under: Metaphor, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: comedy, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, healing, impermanence, Job, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, snowman, spring, sun, temporary |
The Direction of Intention 
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