April | 2023 | The Direction of Intention

Note The Trail [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on April 18, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Our pin-on-the-map lands between two airports: O’Hare to the south and Milwaukee’s General Mitchell to the north. On clear summer days, or unseasonably warm days like last week, we recline in our Adirondack chairs and watch the planes Etch-A-Sketch in the sky. According to our recent 5 minute contrail-count-study, at any moment, there are more planes in the sky than one might believe.

It always makes we wonder if Ben Franklin or Leonardo daVinci joined us on the patio would they calmly count contrails from their Adirondack chair or would their heads explode at the wonder of it all. It amuses me to imagine Leonardo hopping around with excitement and pointing to the sky.

In my recent past the phrase “digital exhaust” was relevant to my work in the wild, wild world of software development. Like a contrail, the output of our incessant tapping of keys leaves a trail marking our arc through digital space/time. The particular characteristic that had me hopping out of my chair was the notion that “reading” the digital contrail not only marks our past but is a great way of foreseeing future action. Past patterns are terrific indicators of future behavior. Just ask the FBI.

Kerri keeps a paper calendar where she records the significant and insignificant details of every day. It’s a behavior she inherited from her mother. Beaky was a great recorder of events and maker of lists. If I want to know if we had dinner with 20 in November of 2016, Kerri flips open her 2016 calendar and hits me with the details: yes we did and we had blackened Tilapia, small potatoes, and roasted asparagus. I’ve lost many a debate to the entries in the calendar. Her calendars are our personal analog contrail. Our unique life arc through space/time.

It’s helped me answer one of Tom’s questions about his great-grandmother Isabelle. He found a box with stacks of daily flip-calendars that Isabelle kept, each day had a notation about the weather. A hardworking ranch woman, standing on the porch of the farmhouse, in the days before airplanes, she stared at the sky and made a note in her calendar: hot sun, not a cloud in the sky. Tom looked at me as we went through the stacks in the box, asking, “Why would she do that?”

Contrails.

read Kerri’s blogpost about CONTRAILS

Filed under: Metaphor, Pattern, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: analog, artistry, behavior, Ben Franklin, calendar, contrail, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, digital, digital exhaust, future sight, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, Leonardo da Vinci, pattern, story, studio melange, the melange, two artists, Two Artists Tuesday | 3 Comments »

Listen To The River [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on April 17, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Have you learned that secret from the river; that there is no such thing as time?” Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

I’m not sure why I didn’t recognize it before now but Siddhartha and the Parcival grail epic are the same story. A ferryman. A hermit in the woods. A second teacher that appears and teaches presence – by example.

“The river knows everything; one can learn everything from it. You have already learned from the river that it is good to strive downwards, to sink, to seek the depths. The rich and distinguished Siddhartha will become a rower…” Parcival removes his armor. The great and powerful knight loses himself; he chops wood and carries water.

Eileen, 20’s mom, turns 100 today. Her party was last week. 20 made a beautiful photo board of her long life. The child. The sassy teenager. A vibrant young woman. A mother. A keeper-of-the-books. A grandmother. An aged woman. The full cycle of life. Her granddaughters attended the party. Her great-granddaughters, too.

“Age-and-stage,” 20 often says. Age and stage.

“Is this what you mean? That the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean, and in the mountains, everywhere, and that the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past, nor the shadow of the future?”

“That is it,” said Siddhartha, “and when I learned that, I reviewed my life and it was also a river…”

Parcival turned and was shocked to see the grail castle standing in the meadow behind him. The hermit smiled and said, “Boy, it’s been there all along.”

Happy Birthday, Eileen. 100 years. A moment.

read Kerri’s blogpost about 100 YEARS

Filed under: Awakening, Identity, Merely A Thought Monday, Metaphor | Tagged: artistry, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, Hermann Hesse, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, life cycle, long body, long life, metaphor, Parcival, Parzival, presence, Siddhartha, story, studio melange, the melange, universal story | 1 Comment »

Focus Pocus [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Posted on April 15, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

The technical term is “hyper-focus.” I am gifted at becoming absorbed in my tasks. I have a knack for stepping out of time. Especially when my task is an art project. A painting. A cartoon.

Kerri will tell you that my hyper-focus is less a gift and more a maddening quirk or slightly annoying defect of character. She quips that, when I am painting, the house could blow away and I wouldn’t notice.

She’s exaggerating, of course. I would definitely notice if the house blew away. Eventually.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HYPER FOCUS

Filed under: smack-dab | Tagged: aarp, artistry, cartoon, composer, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, drawing, focus, hyper focus, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, lifetime, middle age cartoon, middle age romance, painter, painting, quirks, smack-dab, story, studio melange, the melange, two artists | 1 Comment »

Restore The Heart [on KS Friday]

Posted on April 14, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Last night I sat on the floor in the corner of the bathroom. It was very late and I couldn’t sleep. I said to no one, “Something, sometime, some way, has to tip in our favor.” I was disheartened after a day of exceptionally discouraging news.

“Disheartened” is an interesting word. Heart removal. An empty cavity where the energy should be. The thought made me laugh and laughter is always good for the disheartened. My laughter brought me back to my senses. I sat on the floor, shifted my focus from woe-is-me and placed it squarely on all that I am thankful for. The list is long and runs through creature comforts like hot showers and electric light to soul-comforts like a crazy Aussie dog to heart-comforts like an incredible wife. Also, there is wine on the deck. Walks in nature which imply good health, walks through imagination which imply an artistic spirit, walks with awe which imply an insatiable curiosity. Through the right lens, my life-view from the bathroom floor is remarkable.

My empty cavity filled to overflowing.

I find it’s a good practice, when fresh from a bout with self-pity, to wander the house slowly. To intentionally touch the stories that live in the furniture or the glasses or the plants. To step out of the fear-mongering and into the riches of the present moment. Laying on our dining room table is a bundle of branches Kerri gathered from a fallen pussy willow. The furry catkins glowed silver and caught my attention. They warmed me with a memory. A walk with dear friends on ground so muddy that we laughed and hopped in search of solid footing. It was cold. Trees were down; the day before the wind and rain was brutal. Finding the pussy willow branch on the ground made both Kerri and Jen giggle with delight. A treasure! So simple. Their excitement turned toward possibilities. Vases or ribbon?

Enhearten: to restore strength and courage to a saddened spirit. The memory was good medicine and sent me to bed where I fell into a deep sleep, paradoxically enlivened and peaceful. Heart restored.

Kerri’s music is available on iTunes or streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blogpost about PUSSYWILLOWS

Filed under: Gratitude, KS Friday, Seeing | Tagged: artistry, courage, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, disheartened, enheartened, enlivened, focus, focus placement, Gratitude, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, life review, peace, peace of mind, pussy willows, self pity, story, studio melange, thankfulness, the melange | 3 Comments »

Unroll And Renew [on DR Thursday]

Posted on April 13, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

During the past weeks I have rectified a wrong that I did to myself. A few years ago, after several water disruptions in my basement studio, with the space in disarray and too full of stuff, I had a fit of “what-am-I-going-to-do-with-all-of-these-paintings. With no thought to the future, I rolled several of my canvases. There are many, many paintings so I made multiple heavy rolls. And then I stacked them. The stacking was my crime. The weight of the top rolls pressed those on the bottom. Left too long and the canvas warps; the paint cracks.

I feel as if I am emerging from a dream. The past. Dried flowers in springtime.

At breakfast on Monday, Liam asked if I had been painting. I blinked, not ashamed of my reply but mostly shocked at the truth of it. “I just finished a painting,” I said, “the first I’ve completed in three years.” Three years ago I rolled my paintings to keep them out of the water – to get them out of the way. Broken wrists, lost jobs, pandemic, an uncanny series of water issues…A pause. Or, I feared, a finish?

I carefully unrolled the paintings. Flattened the waves in the first canvas roll with books. I built successive layers of flat paintings, using the weight that caused the problem to my advantage. Opening the rolls was like taking a walk back through my life. Two of the rolls were paintings from the early 1990’s. A self portrait in orange on an Oregon beach. I recognized the paintings but had to reach to find the painter. Dried flowers. A dream. The past.

Kerri wrangled carpet tubes from a big box store. We cut them and carefully rerolled the paintings, now with a solid center so they cannot be smashed. We devised a strategy to stand the tubes, protected from any future water problem.

Emerging from the dream. Perfect timing. It is the season of renewal. Spring.

read Kerri’s blogpost about DRIED DAISIES

Filed under: Art, Creativity, DR Thursday, Edges | Tagged: archive, artistry, canvas, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, Emergence, growth, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, past, renewal, seasons, spring, springtime, story, studio melange, the melange, two artists, wasteland | 1 Comment »

Incant [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on April 12, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

It reads like a love poem. “Puschkinia blooms in the empty moment between the fading of the snowdrops and the blooming of Chionodoxa.”

Despite their desire to be understood otherwise, botanists are poets, too. Taste these sounds: siehei, sardensis, forbesii. Spoken together they form an incantation worthy of Macbeth’s witches. There are three witches in the play: Category, Sub-category, and Group. Chionodoxa, we are told, is commonly called “Glory Of the Snow”. The poet-botanist would have us know that, in the empty moment between the fading of snowdrops and the blooming of the Glory-Of-The-Snow, tiny Puschkinia reaches through the soil and fills the void with cobalt and white.

Love poems and incantations. Love poems are incantations. “And because love battles not only in its burning agricultures but also in the mouths of men and women,…“ Neruda. Ahhhh.

“Double, double toil and trouble; fire burn and cauldron bubble.” What will the future bring? Glory-Of-The-Snow, of course! Shakespeare would have nothing less.

All of this poetry came alive in our front yard this week. It was the empty moment, It was the space between the fading snowdrops and the blooming of Chiondoxa. Had we not looked up from our computers, had we feared the cold wind off the lake and stayed comfy and warm inside, we certainly would have missed it.

Love poems and incantations. Harbingers. Nature quietly whispers its temptation, “Puschkinia blooms.”

read Kerri’s blogpost about PUSHKINIA

Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Language, Metaphor | Tagged: artistry, blooms, botanists, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, Glory of the Snow, harbinger, incantation, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, liminal, love poem, Macbeth, Macbeth's witches, Neruda, poetry, poets, shakespeare, snowdrops, story, striped squill, studio melange, temptation, the melange, the space between | 1 Comment »

Welcome The Muse [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on April 11, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

For many years the “sitting room” was a place we passed through en route to the kitchen or our bedroom on the return trip. It was our staging ground while packing for trips. It was the place we put things when we didn’t know where else to put them. I never sat in the sitting room.

And then, one day, a muse-of-calm possessed Kerri. She wanted a space of peace instead of space of clutter. She wanted to sit in the sitting room. She wanted to hang out in the sitting room. She wanted to read and relax in the sitting room. She became a cleaning dervish. She hung meditative paintings. It was a miracle.

I stopped in my tracks the first time I attempted to pass through the sitting room post-transformation. There was air and light. There were comfy pillows and a throw blanket on the couch. I was filled with an overwhelming desire to sit in the sitting room!

I’d heard rumors of the couch in the corner of sitting room. It was one of BabyCat’s favorite nap spots. Kerri assured me that no creature could sit on that couch without falling into a deep relaxed state. I had my doubts. In my time it was the central repository of clothing overflow. I’d actually never seen the couch. Plus, that BabyCat could sleep anywhere, on any surface. BabyCat was a gifted sleeper.

Kerri appeared behind me. She was holding a book. She, too, had transformed! She was the Siren of the sitting room! I nestled into the couch and cooed, the lap blanket covering my feet. The Siren sat on the other side of the couch. She opened the book and began to read. I was like Dorothy in the poppy field. Eyes drooping. Head bobbing. Incapable of concentration. The last thing I remember was thinking, “So this is what it feels like to be a cat…”

Now, we spend hours in the sitting room, reading on the couch. Falling into a deep relaxed state. Each morning, as I pass through on my way to the kitchen, I slow down and breathe-in the calm.

Sometimes I wonder why we waited so long to create this place of tranquillity. The potential was there all along. The good news? The peace of the sitting room is spilling out into the rest of the house. The sun room is filled with plant-love. The living room is beginning a subtle transformation. We gather around our small table in our tiny kitchen and laugh and tell stories. It’s how change happens. Create the space. Grow the space. It’s how peace happens.

This I know: the muse-of-calm is not yet done with us. I can’t wait to see what happens to the rest of the house and beyond.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE SITTING ROOM

Filed under: Metaphor, Possibility, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: artistry, calm, change, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, environments, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, meditation, meditative, muse, peace, potential, relax, relaxation, serenity, story, studio melange, the melange, transformation | 1 Comment »

Open And Share [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on April 10, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

We have “go” bags packed. One contains our important papers. The other has a change of clothes and the dog’s leash. It’s not that we’re paranoid. During the civil unrest a few years ago – buildings ablaze and murder on the streets just a block or two from our house – the local authorities advised people to be ready to leave on a moment’s notice. We prepared our “go” bags and thought it such a good idea that we’ve never unpacked them. Now, when the tornado sirens wail, we simply grab our bags and the dog and descend into the basement. Easy-peasy in times of scramble.

Each night we watch Youtube videos of people hiking long distance trails. Often the hikers talk about the moment that they “leave” the mindset of the city and enter the freedom of the trail. Everything they need they carry on their backs. They cease dealing with what is supposed-to-be and fully enter life with what is right in front of them. There is a plan and the plan is constantly in flux. There is little to no consistency. What they can and cannot control becomes readily apparent.

What is most important, what is consistent to all of their stories on the trail, is how important other people become to their experience. Leaving the mindset of the city brings them back to the basic tenet of their humanity. They are totally dependent upon the kindness of others. They enter an ecosystem of mutual support. The illusion of “every-man-for-himself” falls away. They open. They share. They fill themselves with gratitude for others. The people who try to go-it-alone don’t make it very far.

I think that is why, at the end of each day, we watch these people on the trail, with their “go” bags on their backs and their hearts bursting with appreciation for their lives and for those who walk with them, if only for a day. They remind us of what’s most important. They cut through the noisy abstraction of news and ratings and likes. They don’t expect their walk to be easy or comfortable or pretty. They remind us to fill our days with gratitude for others, to turn toward our fellow travelers rather than turn away. They offer a hand and accept assistance. They share. They remind us, in our scramble to find safety in the storm, that life in an ecosystem of support is what it’s all about.

read Kerri’s blogpost about STORMS

Filed under: Gratitude, Merely A Thought Monday, Metaphor | Tagged: appreciation, artistry, assistance, AT, AZT, backpack, CDT, civil unrest, CT, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, go bag, Gratitude, hikers, humanity, JMT, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, kindness, presence, share, sharing, story, studio melange, support, thanks, the melange, tornado | 3 Comments »

Weigh The Cost [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Posted on April 8, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

We are, like the rest of the nation, astounded at the weekly escalation of prices. It’s not just food; the cost of heating our home jumped 20% last month. We piled on layers of clothes through the winter so our usage actually went down. Use less. Costs more. There’s something wrong with that equation.

When you seek jobs in the non-profit sector, as I have recently been doing, you get an overview of desperation. Elders making choices between food and medication. Families with parents working as hard as they can and still not able to afford the inflated rents and cost of food. Each day I read celebratory news about the thriving markets while assisted living facilities evict seniors on Medicaid. What a sad dichotomy we’ve become. Not surprising, the real cost to us as a nation has very little to do with money.

The question is rhetorical because the answers are all around us: What if it all keeps going up?

read Kerri’s blogpost about COST.

Filed under: smack-dab | Tagged: aarp, artistry, comic strip, composer, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, desperation, exploitation, inflation, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, middle age cartoon, middle age romance, painter, story, studio melange, the melange, two artists | 1 Comment »

See The Awesome [on KS Friday]

Posted on April 7, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Our favorite Wander Women posted the next installment of their through-hike on the Arizona trail. They are 300 miles in and passed through a burn zone that impacted a Saguaro cactus forest. Some of the giant cactus had perished. Many were burned yet somehow, survived. New growth pushed through the top of the blackened resilient plants. I was awestruck.

A decade or so ago, when life was hard, when I least believed in human kindness, I set out each day on my walk across the city determined to count acts of generosity. The acts of benevolence were everywhere and by far outnumbered the aggressive honkers and the impatience of frustrated commuters. By the time I reached my studio I wondered how there could be so much kindness, so much benevolence in the world, unseen. I wondered why our shared story was of a scary-angry-world rather than a world of munificence. The evidence did not support the narrative.

Looking for kindness in others inspired acts of kindness in me. Sometimes, after I witnessed a generosity, I approached the person who gave of themselves and acknowledged their act. I essentially said, ‘I saw that and it was awesome.” You may or may not be surprised to learn how impactful a simple acknowledgement can be. People smiled and blushed. People waved it off as if it was nothing.

Kindness is everything.

My walks across the city were more than a decade ago. The shared narrative of scary-angry-world is louder now than ever yet I wonder if I took a walk across my city-of-yore would I see a different result or the same? Kindness flies mostly under the radar, people wave it off as small gestures; it doesn’t pull high ratings like bullying or blood or scandal. We live within the narrative we feed.

I suspect kindness is as pervasive as fear-mongering but kindness doesn’t care if it gets the headline.

A sentinel stands on our trail. A tall stump, long ago burned by fire, perhaps a lightning strike. Perhaps its blackened scars are from a controlled burn. It reminds me of Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree. The birds use it for perching. The squirrels burrow at its base. Life teems around and because of the blackened stump. It always captures our attention. I imagine it is kind since so many creatures and living things find support in its watchful presence. New growth will never push through the top of this stump. It is no longer self-generating. It is, however, like a standing nurse log, new life teems around, on top of, and through it. A silent giver. I am always tempted to step off the path and whisper, “I saw that and it was awesome.”