Read The Image [on DR Thursday]

“I paint the way some people write an autobiography. The paintings, finished or not, are the pages from my diary.” ~Pablo Picasso

Kerri and I love to dance. This painting was inspired by one of our spontaneous backyard dances. We don’t know how to do the tango but that has never stopped us from making it up.

When I was much younger, my little brother told me that my studio was one of the darkest places he’d ever been. I didn’t see it at the time but now, looking at my few remaining early paintings, I can’t deny it. Painting, for me, is the log book of a spiritual quest and, like all spiritual quests, the real work is in retrieving the lost pieces and making a greater whole, walking into the wound and transforming it, stepping firmly into the realm of the possible (and becoming it) instead of being transfixed on the monster obstacle.

What once seemed so complex now looks so simple. What once looked so bleak and impossible is now practical, immediate, and infinitely rich. I am lucky. I delight that my diary these days is filled with dances and quiet appreciation.

 

 

read Kerri’s blog post about TANGO WITH ME

 

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tango with me ©️ 2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood

Expand Your Bubble [on Merely A Thought Monday]

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Everyone has their insurmountable mountain to climb. Everyone has their fear to face. Everyone bumps against the edges of their comfort zone. Everyone.

And, the beauty of this life is that the insurmountable mountain is different for everyone. What seems easy to you might be impossibly scary to me. You show me it is possible. I show you it can be done. We inspire another look at what’s possible.

In the film, FREE SOLO, Alex Honnold says that, for him, fear is not something to be conquered. Comfort is something to be expanded. And, comfort is expanded through exploration and practice. Through experiences and reaching. Testing and discovery. Trying again and again until what once looked like a monster becomes known. It’s remarkably practical. It is what education is supposed to be.

How we ask the question determines the paths we see or don’t see. It’s all in the language we use. “Facing a fear” is oh, so, warrior-esque. We are inundated with “going to battle” metaphors. Defeating a part of myself in a battle against myself seems…contrary to the bigger picture. Win by losing. Division as the only available route? Armor, armor everywhere.

There is wisdom in putting down the swordplay. There is hope in choosing cooperation instead of conflict. Instead of picking a fight, instead of perpetuating the power of the fear, how much better might it be to turn and look. Really look. Study. To reach and test. To take a step. To try and fall down so that you might try again with a little bit more experience. Study. Open to possibilities.

It’s a pattern. Focusing on the obstacle, fighting the fear, is learned. It’s a great strategy for keeping yourself afraid and encased in armor. Other patterns are available and far more productive. It’s possible to climb like Alex: study your mountain, learn the terrain, practice the difficult moves over and over, internalize safety, and one day, when you are ready, when you have a relationship with something other than fear, climb your once insurmountable mountain.

 

read Kerri’s blog post on COMFORT ZONES

 

 

million dollar highway, colorado websitebox copy

Appreciate It [on KS Friday]

every breath song box copy

Yesterday we drove the Kettle Moraine Scenic Drive to see the fall leaves. It was our anniversary gift to each other. A day off. A day away. A conscious decision to step out of the busy-list of to-dos, the concerns and stresses, the tug and pull and demands…. What could be a better gift to each other than presence with each other. Time less wandering with intent to appreciate.

Every Breath could be the soundtrack of our gift-drive. The crisp air, the glow of the leaves (“Look at that hillside!” she gasped). An utter appreciation of all things passing. Every Breath.

On another note, if the cello line in this piece doesn’t kill you, then you need to take the Kettle Moraine Scenic Drive and wake up. Kerri’s compositions were made to be played with the rich depth of a symphony. Every Breath will make you catch your breath. It’s gorgeous like the leaves.

 

EVERY BREATH on the album AS IT IS available on iTunes and CDBaby

 

read Kerri’s blog post about EVERY BREATH

 

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every breath/as it is ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood

Realize It [on KS Friday]

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Years ago, at the retreat center on Whidbey Island, Kendy talked with me about her budding meditation practice. She was having difficulty quieting her mind chatter. To help, a teacher gave her a mantra to use in her meditation. The mantra gave her busy mind a focal point. It was a simple phrase: I Am. I Am. “It’s the craziest thing,” she said, “I feel like I need to add a description, I Am…what? I am happy? I am fulfilled? I am a loser? I am bored? And then it occurred to me that it’s the descriptor I’m trying to quiet! Why do I need to define everything? Judge everything? Assign a score to everything? Isn’t the whole point to realize how profound it is to be alive? I Am.”

There is a photograph of my uncle Al, just months before he died of cancer, fulfilling a dream of flying on a trapeze. At the moment of letting go of the bar, he reaches into space. The catcher is not in the frame. Al’s face, wracked with his disease, is shining with the joy of his moment. The simple pleasure of his moment of I Am.

There is a lyric in Kerri’s song, I Am Alive, that brings me back to my conversation with Kendy and the enormity of her realization. It makes me miss Al. The lyric goes like this: we are bonded by the power of this dream that is I Am.

Cut through all the chatter-of-the-day and it’s plain enough. It’s simple enough. Add the final descriptive word to the I Am. Realize, as Al did in that gorgeous moment of flight, of not-here-or-there. I Am Alive.

I AM ALIVE on the album AS SURE AS THE SUN is available on iTunes & CDBaby

 

read Kerri’s blog post about I AM ALIVE

 

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i am alive/as sure as the sun ©️ 2002 kerri sherwood

 

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Blink! [on Flawed Cartoon Wednesday]

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One of my least favorite self discoveries is that I am obsessive. And compulsive (so I’m told…). If I latch onto a task, a painting, a project, an idea,…, it is nearly impossible for me to let it go. I am a deer in the headlights. A moth to flame. Fixated. Mesmerized. Obsessed. Compulsive. Don’t ask Kerri for examples!

Standing squarely on the pavement of the back road of life, transfixed by the headlights coming my way, I am trying to learn to blink. For all of those in the singular-focus-club, this Flawed’s for you. Blink!

 

if you'd like to see FLAWED CARTOON copy

read Kerri’s blog post about BLINK, DUSTY! BLINK! just don’t ask her for examples of my obsessive/compulsive behavior!

 

www.kerrianddavid.com

 

blink, dusty! blink ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood

Split A Second [on KS Friday]

inasplitsecond SONG BOX copyEarlier this week I wrote about our visit to Arches National Park and the paradox of presence: it is only when we recognize how very small we are that we are capable of standing in the immensity of this moment, the present. I called it a joining. In her song, In A Split Second, Kerri calls it, “walking that thin line.”

It is possible to put down the list of to-dos. It is possible to stop dragging along that big bag of the past. It is possible to be here, where you are, in the immensity of this moment of life. Give yourself a gift, be where you are, and let Kerri help you walk that thin line.

 

IN A SPLIT SECOND on the album AS SURE AS THE SUN, available in iTunes & CDBaby

 

read Kerri’s blog post about IN A SPLIT SECOND

www.kerrianddavid.com

 

in a split second/as sure as the sun ©️ 2002 kerri sherwood

Be Small [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Arches copy

On a crisp fall day, watching the waves roll in at Pismo Beach, Jim told me that people come to the beach to touch their mortality. “The waves were here long before we were born. They’ll be here long after we are gone.”

It is only in the moments when we recognize how infinitesimally small we really are that we ‘re also capable of grasping how glorious, how profound, how immense are our fleeting few moments of life. It’s a paradox. It is a joining. Watching the waves, standing on the mountaintop, feeling the sunrise, holding your newborn. Boundaries blend with beauty so vast it makes you ache.

While in Colorado, we jumped the border into Utah for a day and visited Arches National Park. It is one of those places. I felt so incredibly small. I grabbed Kerri’s hand and the paradox door swung open. For a few moments, we were part of the monument, life burned so keenly, so intensely, we joined the timeless, and laughed at the utter impossibility of it all.

if you'd like to see TWO ARTISTS copy

read Kerri’s blog post about Arches

 

www.kerrianddavid.com

 

arches national park ©️ 2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood