January | 2023 | The Direction of Intention

Write That Down [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Posted on January 7, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

It’s a fractal. A cartoon inside of a cartoon inside of our life. We delight in poking fun at ourselves each week in this cartoon.

If you look carefully at the image pinned to the wall, the characters are laughing. It’s an accurate depiction of our life. We laugh. We crack ourselves up on a daily basis with the ridiculous things we think and say, with the outrageous circumstances we find ourselves in. There is more fodder for humor than I care to admit.

Of course, the panel preceding the laughter is a drawing of how we take ourselves too seriously. Knitted brows. Bunched jammies. Chasing our own tail. The banana peels we step on over and over again with the same result. The real stuff of life, the reason we find ourselves laughing.

“That was stupid,” I say after doing something completely idiotic. Kerri looks the other way to hide her smirk. “It’s not funny!” I exclaim as we burst into gales of laughter.

“Write that down,” she says, “It’ll make a great Smack-Dab.”

read Kerri’s blogpost on this saturday morning smack-dab.

Filed under: smack-dab | Tagged: aarp, artistry, cartoon about middle age, cartoon strip, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, humor, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, laughter, poking fun, self deprecating, smack-dab, story, studio melange, the melange | 1 Comment »

Look-At-Me-Look-At-You [on KS Friday]

Posted on January 6, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Crossing the soggy path, the deer left hoofprints pressed deep into the mud. “Those weren’t here before,” she said. It was our second loop around the yellow trail.

A half a mile down the path she suddenly stopped, grabbing my arm in the way that let me know to stand silent and still. She pointed into the woods. The deer stood frozen, looking at us. It’s ears twitched, deciding that we were not a threat. It flicked its tail, a shock of white, and walked a few steps, stopping again to scrutinize us. We stood that way for several minutes. Look-at-me-look-at-you. Boundaries dissolved.

And then, as if released from a spell, we walked on, filled with delight at our communion with the deer. “They’re usually not out this early,” she said. We encounter them at sunset but rarely in the late morning. We decided it was a gift, a sighting of encouragement. We embraced the deer-symbol of life’s regeneration. Moving with grace through obstacles, having a fresh perspective on old impediments. Good perspectives to carry into the new year.

We rounded the corner and crossed to the middle of the bridge. A week ago during the polar freeze we imagined the river was solid ice. Now, it stirred into motion, puddles atop frozen sheets, the current pulling below. The sky and trees reflected on speckled patterns of ice in transformation. It looked like a grey whale swam in for a rest.

Once again we found ourselves under a spell with the river. Moving in an ancient dance with water and sky. Look-at-me-look-at-you. Our stinging fingers brought us back. Time to go home. Warm up. Sip a glass of wine, and revel that deer-spell and river-magic would make it on the list of our Daily Gorgeous.

[this piece of Kerri’s breaks my heart every time I listen]

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes & streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE RIVER

Filed under: Gratitude, KS Friday, Metaphor | Tagged: album - this part of the journey, artistry, boundaries, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, deer, grace, Gratitude, intuition, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, last i saw you, magic, obstacles, seasons, spell, story, studio melange, the melange, transformation, water | 1 Comment »

Let It Rain [on DR Thursday]

Posted on January 5, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

We are reading Raynor Winn’s new book, Landlines. It is terrific. We make a cup of tea, get under a blanket on the old couch in the sitting room, Dogga asleep at our feet, and Kerri reads to me. Life does not get better than this.

A theme in the book is to put yourself in the way of hope. It has become my mantra for the turn of the year. Hope is coming through; stand in its path.

I started a new painting. I’ve been making sketches for a few weeks. It is the theme I snagged on when broken wrists and lost jobs stopped all artistic motion.: train through trees. As David Bayles and Ted Orland write, there is a difference between stopping and quitting. I stopped for a spell. Putting on my painter-clothes and descending into the studio felt like coming back into myself. Embodiment. As I lay out the composition and layered in some under tones, I felt as if air rushed into my lungs after holding my breath for too long.

We mimicked our smack-dab cartoon and took a midnight walk along Lake Michigan to bring in the new year. “Star dust is raining down on us,” Kerri said, in the first minute of 2023.

Stardust. Standing in the path of hope. A deep full breath. A good book and a warm blanket. A cup of tea. The excitement of rushing to photograph a train racing through the trees – and all things that inspire a painter to paint, a composer to compose, and two writers sitting side-by-side to capture their thoughts as the ritual beginning of each new day.

Life does not get better than this.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BUFFALO PLAID

Filed under: Art, Creativity, DR Thursday | Tagged: appreciation, artistry, cartoon, composer, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, embodiment, Gratitude, hope, inspiration, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, Landlines, musician, new work, painting, Raynor Winn, smack-dab., story, studio melange, the melange, writers | 1 Comment »

Add A Ring [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on January 4, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

We teased Dogga this morning, telling him not to forget to date his checks with 2023. As an Aussie, he is fairly high-strung and riddled with the need to please. He tried his best to grok what we were saying and then he gave up when he realized no food was involved. He retreated to the end of the bed for a snooze.

Count the rings. A year of life. Last night at pot-luck-dinner Jen said, “It all goes so fast!” Add another ring. And, another. Attending a funeral several years ago, my dad quipped to Ted, “Well, it looks like we’re on the front line.” Both had lost their parents. Ted chuckled and shook his head, “Now, how in the hell did that happen?” he asked.

Last week Justin asked me if I thought there was an absolute truth and I replied, “No. Truth is a cultural construct.” Today, I would answer differently. There are two absolute truths. You are born. You die. Absolutely. The best advice for everything in between the absolutes comes by way of the Dalai Lama: An open heart is an open mind.

An open mind is wide-eyed with awe and curiosity. This ride is amazing. The number of rings accumulated is probably less important than what’s filled into the spaces between them. And, remember, if you still use paper checks, before you take a snooze at the end of the bed, don’t forget to date them with 2023.

read Kerri’s blogpost about RINGS

Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Metaphor | Tagged: absolute truth, add a ring, artistry, birth, dalai lama, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, death, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, metaphor, New Year, Not So Flawed Wednesday, open heart, open mind, story, studio melange, the melange | 1 Comment »

Move The Eye [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on January 3, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

“If you think good work is somehow synonymous with perfect work, you are headed for big trouble. Art is human; error is human; ergo, art is error.” ~ Art & Fear, David Bayles & Ted Orland

The winterberries came as a shock. Vibrant red pops in a bleak landscape of brown and grey. “They look like maraschino cherries!” Kerri laughed as she waded into the brush to get a photograph. In Wisconsin, the mere mention of maraschino cherries invokes immediate and widespread mixing of brandy old-fashioneds. Even though it was early in the day, I imagine people for miles around sensed the invocation and sprang toward their liquor cabinets.

“Sour or sweet?’ I asked, trying to be clever, but she was too engrossed in her photograph to hear my quip.

Watching her crouch to capture the shot, I thought, “Red makes the eye move.” It’s a lesson I learned beyond the abstract and used in my narrative paintings – a series that I’ve had on the back burner for ages. Limit the palette, move the eye with winterberry red. It’s a director’s thought. Guide the eye. It’s a playwright’s plot; tell the story through the anomaly. Create movement through curiosity rather than control.

Explode the idea. Run toward the edge. Extol the sore thumb!

I let my eye roam across the fields. Winterberry shock to Winterberry shock, electric reds pulling my eye across muted purple and drab green. The wind rattling branches, antlers clacking in the sky. I breathed it all in as she waded through the grasses back to the path. “Make big mistakes,” I heard Quinn whisper.

“The bigger the better,” I whispered in reply.

read Kerri’s blogpost about WINTERBERRIES

Filed under: Art, Creativity, Edges, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: anomoly, Art and fear, artistry, color, David Bayles, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, error, human, ideas, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, mistakes, movement, narrative, perfection, red, story, story making, storytelling, studio melange, Ted Orland, the melange, winterberry | 1 Comment »

Sail At It [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on January 2, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Kerri said it best: I can’t believe we are back in this place again.

I’ve been rolling this quote through my mind each day as I enter the job-hunt. I remember Tom telling me that he’d crossed a magic line and the world perceived him as “old.” He desperately wanted to direct more plays but his vast experience wore grey hair and a chiseled face. Even former students turned the other way when he called. Eventually he stopped believing the opportunity was out there. He made his peace with retirement on the ranch. He settled into a quiet life and a quiet life settled into him.

As I stare at job listings I dream of wealthy patrons knocking at my door or a fast-track Patreon membership that floats my/our artistic boat into new and exciting explorations. There are paintings in the stacks that are gorgeous and worthy. I fantasize that a syndicate will want Smack-dab or a publisher will ride over the horizon with a book deal. I know that Kerri has more music to play and record. I am not imagining that.

Tom’s reflection is poignant because he felt he was, after a lifetime of experience, coming into his most potent artistic years. I feel that now. I am now the age he was when he uttered his disbelief at crossing the magic line. It’s taken a long time to recognize the worth of my doubt, the power in my perseverance stepping into the unknown. There’s potent artistry in here. As the Wander Women said best, “We might have 20 summers left and want to be intentional in how we spend them.” Yes. How to best dedicate and experience the time? This day?

I believe the opportunity is out there. I wear a grey beard and, as my niece said, a weathered face. But, beneath the wear-and-tear, my heart is young and my tank is full. I am foolish enough or naive enough to imagine. To dream. To point my intention toward the edge of the earth. To believe opportunity is serendipitous as well as something created.

read Kerri’s blogpost about OPPORTUNITY