Life Carpentry [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on September 24, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

I teased Kerri that this morning that the first thing on my to-do list was to build the ark. It rained again last night. It’s raining now. I’m not talking about gentle downpours; this is an Alabama rain, tropical, an incessant dumping after yesterday’s dumping preceded by the dumping of rain the day before that. Kerri reminded me that my carpentry skills are lacking so, even if I built something that resembled a boat, no animal with good sense would get on it. I have to admit it, she’s right. I’d never set sail on a boat of my own construction.

A few days-that-feel-like-months ago, the sun came out. In the early evening we sat outside so Dogga could sniff the fence line and bark at random sounds. He’s an old dog now so it makes him feel good to bark into the universe. While he investigated the backyard and the greater galaxy, we sat in our Adirondack chairs and watched the clouds. They glowed, putting on quite a show for us. While the beauty of this world evokes a rowdy bark from Dogga, it does the opposite for us: it invites quiet appreciation. It was one of those rare moments when I knew to my bones -at least in that moment – that all was right in my world.

In that moment. Every spiritual tradition on the planet warns of the folly of trying to hang onto the feeling of a moment. The best we can do is savor and move on.

It is good practice to regularly step back from a canvas and from a distance look at the painting. It brings the whole composition back into focus. Stepping back exposes what is invisible when working close-in. “What’s next” becomes readily apparent when standing back. It’s route finding.

The same thing is true in life. It’s why people take vacations or go on retreats or simply take-a-break. To get some distance from our close-in lives and feel what we do not allow ourselves to fully feel, to re-consider, to open the door and invite in the dreams that have been waiting patiently in the lobby.

Sitting in the Adirondack chair, watching with awe the cloud-spectacular, I heard Joseph Campbell in my mind, saying, “No one lives the life they intended.” Had the younger version of me actually built the boat of my intentions and successfully sailed off toward the horizon, I would have missed this moment, Dogga bark-communing with the universe, Kerri and I reveling with the sun on our faces after days of rain, holding hands, shaking our heads at the impossible beauty of the glowing clouds. I thanked all the powers-that-be that my carpenter skills were-and-are lacking, that my life-ship sank in the bay and required me to step back, take a look and live a life of route finding. My path meandered to a place I never imagined, to a moment I did not think was possible. Simple awe. Had I been a better life-carpenter I would have missed it.

Canopy, 48″x48″, acrylic on canvas

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE GLOW

www.kerrianddavid.com

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Go To The River [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on September 4, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

Siddhartha finds illumination sitting by the river. He realizes that it never stops moving. No two moments are the same. Just like life.

Narcissus and Goldmund seek the same thing. Illumination. One studies from the confines of a monastery. The other goes into the world and makes a mess of things. Which one do you suppose finds what he seeks?

I did not grow up around great bodies of water. I know the mountains so they do not intimidate me. The-lake-that-looks-like-an-ocean, on the other hand, is daunting. Alien. Each day we walk the path by the lake and I am taken by the mystery. I admire the sailors who seem so at home, so at peace and in their element, sailing on the mystery-water. I wonder if the power of the mountain seems unforgiving to them.

My dear Endless Enigma texted. His daughter is getting married. His son has already married but I could tell from his note that, for a dad, this passage is different. A father does not give his son away. Why is that? In our tradition, a father walks his daughter down the aisle to join her hands with her soon-to-be-husband. It is a ritual. He gives her away. For the father, the marriage of a daughter is a letting go. Has it always been this way with sons and daughters?

This water runs deep.

I cannot help but ask questions of tradition. For me, questioning tradition seems to be a tradition. It is perhaps why in my past life I needed to stir the pot. I needed to run at the edges and jump.

Time keeps moving.

Sometimes I wonder: did really I have a plan for my life? How did the path I walked compare with the clean-penciled-plan I once scribbled in the notebook? Have I at long last let go of my plan or am I making it up as I go?

I have at the very least learned that I control almost nothing. The river is so much bigger than I am.

I now see that I spent an inordinate amount of time swimming against the river. That was exhausting. I have discovered that it is so much better to give over and let the river carry me. Saul-the-Tai-Chi-master used to say, “Let the energy move you.” Kerri says, “Gear down”.

I do not really understand Narcissus and a life of study in a monastery. Goldmund, on the other hand, I know like the back of my hand. One can study the river from a book or one can go to the river.

ADRIFT on the album BLUEPRINT FOR MY SOUL © 1995 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE SAILBOAT

www.kerrianddavid.com

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Our Roots [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on August 21, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

Kerri snapped this morning. “How can they support this…cruelty!” she cried. “They” are among those we call family who adamantly embrace the inhumanity of the current administration; those who vote for the cowardice of the republican congress, the enablers of the ruthlessness and corruption. Those who consider themselves righteous.

“Clocks, for some reason or other, always seem to be marching, and armies never march to anything but doom.” ~ Alan Watts via The Marginalian

This was the sentence I was reading when she snapped. I admit that I grew irritated. This is a conversation we’ve now had a thousand times and I was not ready to have it yet again. It is a conversation that only marches to doom. Loss. I suppose it’s like grieving a death; it’s not one-and-done. We lose people in pieces, again and again and again. Sometimes the grief jumps out of the forest. An ambush. Kerri was waylaid this morning.

Every story needs an antagonist. How painful and confusing is it when the antagonist captures the heart and mind of someone you love? “How can they support this…cruelty!” she cried. In the previous nine hundred loops through this despair I’ve found flimsy justifications: “They are in the Fox News bubble,” I say, or, “They don’t really know what they are supporting because they are being told that you and I are the enemy.” I gave that up a hundred loops ago. I have no more excuses to make or rationales to offer. Those are the tools of the third child, the peacekeeper-at-all-cost.

There is no excuse. There is no rationale. There is no common ground here. The word “family” has crumbled. We distance ourselves because we want nothing to do with this level of depravity, this dedicated ignorance.

When I was in my twenties I placed the Rocky Mountains between me and my family. I had to know who I was separate from them. My mental, physical and spiritual health required distance and disconnection from dysfunction as the only route to know myself as healthy. My Rocky Mountain Rule was life-saving but required a great deal of grief. I spent hours staring into the ocean. I spent years walking the shores of The Puget Sound.

“I think this is why I love the ocean. It’s the most difficult part of nature to mess up with emblems and symptoms of man’s dissociated consciousness. It’s an environment in which the awareness of our roots can awaken, in which space (so real because of the light and color) can be seen to be joining things instead of separating them.” ~ Alan Watts

Kerri is experiencing her version of The Rocky Mountain Rule, as are many, many, many people across this nation. In separating themselves out, they are finding themselves, joining themselves. In distancing herself from this level of depravity, in placing a metaphoric mountain range between her and those who share ancestral blood, she is finding and affirming the very essence of what she believes.

In arriving unequivocally at, “I am not that,” one steps solidly onto unambiguous ground of self-actualization, “This is what I believe.” And there is no going back over the mountain. The cry, “How can they support this cruelty!” is not about “them” at all. It is a cry of love as a north star, a rejection of institutionalized hate. It is a cry of humanity refusing to enable the selfish inhumane. It is a cry filled with the grief of loss, and the utterly profound recognition of the inseparable nature of moral conscience. It is empathy that cannot ignore the pain currently being gleefully inflicted upon others. Their pain is her pain. Her pain is their pain. A joining, “…the awareness of our roots.”

LEGACY on the album RELEASED FROM THE HEART © 1995 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s legacy is available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blogpost about FAMILY

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Give Time [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on August 13, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Nobody sees a flower – really – it is so small it takes time – we haven’t time – and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time.” ~ Georgia O’Keeffe

I am fortunate. I have good friends. Really good friends. We give our time to each other. We’ve given each other our time for a very long time.

Time is not something marked by a clock. It is a decision. It is attention given with intention. Giving time is not as sterile as it sounds. It is not bookkeeping. It is generous.

At the end of the day, attention is all I have to give.

At the end of each day I give some time and attention to gratitude. I review my day. I give attention to what I gave my attention during the day. Kerri and Dogga are always in my review. My friends. This house that keeps us safe and warm. The list spirals out from that constant center. The orange day lilies that brought a smile. The sunrise. The slow evening walk that we enjoyed. The enormous hibiscus that stopped us in our tracks.

It is an important question to ask at the end of each day, “To whom or what did I give my attention?” I wish I would have asked this question of myself earlier in my life. I would have seen many more flowers. I would have been a better friend. I would have spent less of my limited time on earth giving attention to abstract futures or nonsense achievements.

No matter. I cannot go back in time. And that is precisely the point. I have attention to give and rather than look in the rearview mirror, how much more satisfying is it to give it to this moment, to today, the first sip of coffee in the morning, the clicking sound of Kerri’s keyboard as we perform our morning ritual, writing posts together, about the marvels that we experience, like an enormous hibiscus that caught our attention and shared with us a little bit of its time.

All My Loves, 21″x41 1/2″ mixed media on hardboard

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE HIBISCUS

www.kerrianddavid.com

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Look Close In [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on August 12, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

Like me, do you sometimes have trouble believing in the wonder of the ripening tomato? Incredible! Look close in and you might see what I mean. Where did that come from? Only a moment ago it was a tiny yellow flower on a vine.

There is a particular squirrel in our neighborhood who’s discovered the wonder of the tomatoes. His attraction to the tiny fruit né vegetable has made him a tomato robber. He cannot help himself – that is the nature of desire. He asks the same question as I do – only his version is more an exclamation: where did this come from! Delicious. On that, the squirrel and I agree.

A burst of tomato; taste the sun.

I wonder if the small tomato asks the same question of itself that the squirrel and I ask? “Where did I come from?” It’s an excellent question.

“I would love to live like a river flows, carried by the surprise of its own unfolding.” ~John O’Donohue.

John O’Donohue also wrote that, to the Celtic mind, “…there is no satisfaction in certainty.” Asking the question is more tasty than having an answer. And, some questions, the most important questions, have no single answer.

The path to wonder runs through disbelief and uncertainty. Curiosity, living in the questions, opens the mind and heart to possibility, to wonder, to beckoning imagination. The impossibly rich unknown. Isn’t it infinitely preferable and wildly more rewarding to stand in a question rather than hold tight onto a white-knuckled certainty.

Looking for wonder? Begin by looking close in.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE TOMATO

www.kerrianddavid.com

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Give It A Chance [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on August 7, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

We generally keep a few sweet potatoes in the basket so we have the necessary ingredients for a spontaneous batch of our fave sweet potato black bean chili. Last summer one of our sweet potatoes sprouted so rather than toss it we planted it. The resulting vine was gorgeous and threatened to wrap the deck. We loved it so much that this summer we purposefully let one of the sweet potatoes send out alien tendrils. “It’s ready!” we exclaimed and then we dashed outside and planted it.

Someday we will start earlier in the season, planting a sweet potato or two so that we might grow sweet potatoes. There isn’t enough time between now and snowfall for a harvest. This year, like last year, the effort is purely aesthetic. It gives us yet another reason to rush outside in the morning and exclaim, “Lookit!” It is an intentional spirit-lift.

More so than any other time in my life I am aware of how responsible I am for the care and tending of my own spirit uplift. We planted the sweet potato with the express purpose of giving ourselves a reason to marvel. The more I claim my capacity to cultivate joy, the more opportunities I see. The opportunities are never grand. They are, in fact, the formerly mundane, the easily missed. We grow rosemary so we can crush the leaves between our fingers, for the pure delight of the scent. I tend the birdbath for the giggle it gives me when I spy a robin or sparrow splashing around, a kiddie in a kiddie pool. We literally take time to smell the coffee; every day.

For us, the road to fulfillment does not run through a palace or a yacht – a thing. It is the taste of mint-from-the-garden and lemon slices in the sun tea, a warm baguette and sip of wine, the orange line of day lilies, a long slow walk at sunset. Paying attention. Understanding that no day is ever the same, no moment is ever unremarkable. A sprouted sweet potato can be a source of happiness, if only we give it a chance.

THAT MORNING SOMEDAY on the album BLUEPRINT FOR MY SOUL ©️ 1997 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s music (think of the riches in that phrase for a moment) is available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blogpost about SWEET POTATO

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Have Reverence [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on August 4, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

The complete life cycle of the sowthistle captured in a single image. It’s akin to a family photo with 4 generations; the new baby sits on great grandma’s lap.

“Each thing is of like form from everlasting and comes round again in its cycle.” ~ Marcus Aurelius

The Balinese believe that they are an ancestor reborn. In seven generations they will be reborn again. Consequently, they are more thoughtful of the world they create for future generations. They carefully consider the world they themselves will someday inhabit.

“The Buddha resides as comfortably in the circuits of a digital computer or the gears of a cycle transmission as he does at the top of a mountain.” ~ Robert Pirsig

Veneration is available when all things are understood as interconnected.

The current republican party is the Achilles’ Heel of The United States of America. Their primary driver is short-term gain. They view any form of regulation against their short-term gain as an infringement on their individual rights. There is no life-cycle in their calculation. There is no long view or regard for impact on the community. There is only exploitation for immediate personal gain. Future generations will deal with the mess. As Kerri has rightly identified, “They have no reverence.”

“Where reverence is lost, the soul becomes a barren desert.” Abraham Joshua Heschel

One could ask – one should ask- how did the soul of these men and women become a barren desert?

The infant on great grandma’s lap will one day be a mother and will treasure the photo of her ancestor. And, soon, she will be a grandmother and, if lucky, a great grandmother. She will adore the child on her lap, her descendant. In the child, she will see herself in the full cycle of life. She will have reverence for her life and the life of the child.

“A society without reverence for its past has no future.” ~ Confucius

read Kerri’s blogpost about SOW THISTLE LIFE CYCLE

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Naturally [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on July 17, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

“A purpose of human life, no matter who is controlling it, is to love whoever is around to be loved.” ~ Kurt Vonnegut, The Sirens of Titan

It used to really bother me that the squirrels ate all the birdseed, that they lapped up all the grape jelly meant for the orioles. And while I was sitting in my Adirondack chair twisting in my bother, Kerri would be laughing. “They are so cute!” she’d exclaim. One day it occurred to me that it probably felt better to laugh rather than to be bothered so I gave it a try.

It not only felt better but it also exposed the folly of my vexation. Imagine! I was putting food into feeders and exasperated that a critter was eating it. Oh, spare me from the desire to control all things!

In laughter I can see with amazement the acrobatics of these furry little ninjas. Every obstacle I erect is a challenge they accept. In case, like me, you find yourself lost in a frustrated bother, I can attest that delight is a much better use of your life than is irritation. Every obstacle they overcome is a challenge I accept. It is a dance. In delight, I have become symbiotic with my squirrels.

I can also attest that underneath all of that angst and aggravation is an attempt (a fantasy) to control the uncontrollable. It’s a fool’s errand. The squirrels will behave like squirrels. Naturally.

Humans will behave like humans. I have a choice! I can delight in the impossible or clench my fists until I am red in the face. As it turns out, an open hand feels much better than a tight fist. Naturally.

“We have to continually be jumping off cliffs and developing our wings on the way down.” ~ Kurt Vonnegut, If This Isn’t Nice, What Is?: Advice for the Young

*****

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about SQUIRRELS

kerrianddavid.com

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Study With Dogga [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on July 10, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Why do so many of us, as we grow into so-called maturity, become dull, insensitive to joy, to beauty, to the open skies and the marvellous earth?” ~ Krishnamurti, Think On These Things

Dogga, in his old age, is doing what my father did in his last years. He sits on the back deck and watches the world. He is not watching the world go by. No! He is taking the world in. I imagine that he marvels at the beauty of it all. The robins taking dirt baths, the squirrels robbing grape jelly from the oriole feeder, the mint and lavender, the smell of earth after the rain. His appreciation of every-little-thing comes from contentment. After a life-long journey he feels no need to achieve or change a thing.

I am watching him and learning. His joy is immediate, quiet and boundless.

The Buddhist tradition posits that desire is the source of all suffering. The desire to be some-other-place. The desire to be some other person. The desire to attain some new thing. Separation from self is separation from the current moment. Dogga, like Columbus in his backyard meditations, is empty of desire, opening present-space for the fullness of life.

Though I cannot claim to be free of desire, I experience those moments sometimes. I drop-in. We walk along the lake after the rain, cool air off the water breaking the heat of the day. Holding hands, we marvel at the sailboat braving the lake so soon after the violence of the storm. She stops to take a picture and I am suddenly open space, empty of desire, beauty rushing in. It is neither too enormous nor too small. I am not a witness or performer. I am simply marveling. Part of. And then, with the thought that it is fleeting, comes the ache, the desire to hold on to all of it. I laugh, knowing better but not able to practice what-I-think-I-know.

Clearly, I have more learning to do (another desire!) and will happily study Dogga. How does he do it? How does he immerse in the beauty of it all and yet not yearn for it to last forever?

WHEN THE FOG LIFTS on the album THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY ©️ 1998 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE SAILBOAT

www.kerrianddavid.com

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The Order Of Things [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on July 1, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

It had been over a month since we walked our loop trail. Walking a loop is good for processing life since no navigation is necessary. Keep walking and you will arrive back where you started.

We had a ton of life to process. It is remarkable what happens in a life in a month.

While processing life it is not uncommon for us to stop mid-sentence for a photo-treasure-op. A Downy Wood Mint paused our conversation. At the beginning of our relationship I found it jolting when I was in the middle of a full-blown-rant and Kerri broke off to snap a photograph. It was disorienting. I’d lose my rant-thread. “Now, what were you saying?” she’d ask after her photography deviation.

Now I understand and appreciate the order of things: beauty before rant. In fact, after I stopped being surprised by her spontaneous-photo-combustion, I understood that I was not being dis-oriented; rather I was being re-oriented. A good rant should never stand in the way of appreciation of the moment. Like most people on earth, I have missed a raft of the miraculous because I was too busy complaining about days-gone-by. I missed the greater by insisting on the lesser.

Our loop-walking has made me easier in the world. If I lose my rant-thread in a moment of nature-admiration, then it was probably not worth hanging onto in the first place. It is amazing how a pause for beauty or a moment of simple appreciation can lessen or even transform the forest fire burning in my brain.

“Now, what were you saying?”

“I honestly can’t remember.” A spontaneous pause on our loop to visit the tiny purple Downy Wood Mint cooled and soothed my mind.

read Kerri’s blogpost about DOWNY WOOD MINT

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