Creativity | The Direction of Intention

Try It And See [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on August 5, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

If, like me, your were born without a green thumb and are adept at withering even the hardiest of plants, I offer this handy solution: grow basil and mint. Basil and mint are intrepid and prolific. They will grow beyond their borders even in the bumbling care of the below-average gardener. They will make any thumb feel green, green, green!

There are rippling benefits to the illusion of green-thumb-success brought about by basil and mint. They incite belief that I, too, might someday be a better gardener than I previously understood. Basil and mint help assail the idea that green plants are a mystery never to be solved. If I can grow basil, maybe I can grow tomatoes, too! Or jalapeno peppers! And, if I am successful with a vegetable or two, maybe I will green-thumb my way into flowers! I might bring forth some color and beauty into the world!

What if this is not a one way street? What if, as I tend basil, mint, peppers and tomatoes, they tend me, too?! (Let’s face it, some questions deserve double punctuation even if Ms. Hardesty would have circled my double-punctuation and drawn a frowny-face next to it.) Maybe basil and mint are like the kindergarten teachers of the garden. Maybe their whole job is to instill the thought, “Yes I can!” – in every thumb. “You can do it!” chirp my basil and my mint.

“Maybe I can do this,” I think as we harvest the basil and tomatoes for our pizza, the mint for our sun tea.

It occurs to me, as I rub a basil leaf and savor the scent, that all of those years directing young actors new to the stage, that my job in life might have been the same as basil and mint. How many times did I say, “You can do it.” How many times did I watch the vibrant blooming of a “Yes I can!”

“It’s all a laboratory,” I used to say. “Try it and see what happens.”

And isn’t it lovely that this wise old universe tossed me into a garden and suggested I take my own advice? Isn’t it profound that, as a first step to address my dedicated-disbelief-in-my-capability, some wise soul suggested that I start this life-experiment with basil and mint?

*****

(a note about the current state of the nation and the world: today I simply do not know what to say. There is fire. The ocean’s are heating. River’s are drying. Crops are dying. And, “Shell reported a massive surge in profits, posting second-quarter 2026 adjusted earnings of $9.84 billion, more than double the amount from the same period last year.” What is there to say about people setting fire to their neighborhood and then finding pleasure in profiting from it?)

read Kerri’s blogpost about BASIL

likesharecommentsupportthankyou!

Filed under: Creativity, Flawed Wednesday, Identity, Metaphor, Uncategorized | Tagged: artistry, basil, belief, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, encouragement, experiment, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, mint, story, studio melange, support, the melange, try, Yes | 1 Comment »

What Do You See? [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on July 21, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

In this cloud Kerri sees a dragon. What do you see?

34 years ago Dave bought one of my paintings. It was so new that I’d neglected to sign it. In fact, I’d hung it on my living room wall because I wasn’t certain that it was finished. I was studying it. It was at best a happy accident that he even saw the painting. He loved it and bought it. I boxed it up and shipped it. I didn’t even have a proper photograph of it. Recently, out of the blue, he contacted me to ask if I might issue a certificate of authenticity. I was delighted to whip up a certificate for him but even more delighted to finally have a photo of the painting.

During our email exchange he asked me a question that is commonly asked of artists: “Maybe you could help me with a conversation I have had countless times with my wife and friends over the years.What is going on in the painting?” I smiled, knowing that he was going to hate my answer.

The first rule of artistry, as it was pounded into me, is to never answer the question, “What’s going on in the painting?” Or the song. Or the dance. The reason has nothing to do with keeping it a secret or whipping up a mystery. The reason is that “the art” happens in the moment of direct engagement, the moment when someone (not the artist) sees something in the painting, something personal. Something they bring to it or pull from it. They re-create the painting as theirs. That moment is a moment of creation. It’s the reason I get cranky at curators who feel the need to tell an audience what a painting means or what is going on in the composition; the curator steps between the viewer and their direct experience. They interrupt the creation. It’s like a priest inserting himself between a worshipper and their direct personal communion with their higher power. Some things need no interpretation.

Art is meant to open people to personal insight, to evoke questions or a deeply personal response to what they perceive. To spark conversation and lively debate.

When an artists tells someone what they intended, they are closing down the possibilities, stopping the moment of re-creation.

Dave wrote, “I have had people say it’s a panoramic of a hectic bar scene complete with a dog. Others say it’s showing an individual struggling with themselves, or a metaphysical exercise with multiple persons showing multiple emotions. Any light you can shine on the subject of the painting would be very helpful.” I adored every interpretation he shared.

Many years ago, at my very first art show, during the opening, I followed two old guys around the gallery. They did not know that I was the artist. I followed them so I could eavesdrop on their very lively conversation. They speculated about the meaning of each piece. I was amazed at what they saw. They had fun debating the sanity of the artist. They finally concluded that I must be insane BUT wrapped in their conclusion was the single best compliment I have ever received. After determining that I was insane, one of the gents leaned into his friend and said, “All of the good ones are, you know.”

Imagine how disappointed they’d have been if I had tagged along and told them what each piece meant to me. Trust me, their interpretations were infinitely more interesting than my intention just as, for Dave and his friends, a hectic bar scene with a dog or an internal struggle or a metaphysical exercise…are wildly more satisfying than any light I might shine on the painting. My light would kill the fun and the power of their re-creation.

What do you see? Kerri sees a dragon in the clouds…

Untitled, circa 1992, approx. 36″ x 112″, acrylic, house paint, animation cell paint on canvas

read Kerri’s blogpost about DRAGON IN THE CLOUDS

likesharecommentsupportthankyou!

Filed under: Art, Creativity, Two Artists Tuesday, Uncategorized | Tagged: artistry, authenticity, creating, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, interpretation, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, painting, possibility, projection, story, studio melange, the melange | Leave a comment »

Just That [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on July 16, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

My favorite email of the week comes from Horatio. In last week’s post I included a new painting, an experiment. Horatio wrote, “Wow! Keep digging into that.” Later he added, “Dive in, amigo. That is the earth and the sun and moon all talking to you.” My painting is resonate of runes. Joking, Horatio asked, “Can’t you read runic code?”

“What a great idea!” I exclaimed to myself. I Googled runic code and found several runic translators. For kicks, I typed into the translator, “To be or not to be, that is the question.” This is what Shakespeare looks like in runic symbol:

ᛏᛟ ᛒᛖ ᛟᚱ ᚾᛟᛏ ᛏᛟ ᛒᛖ, ᛏᚺᚨᛏ ᛁᛋ ᛏᚺᛖ ᛩᚢᛖᛋᛏᛁᛟᚾ

Every written language is sound translated into line so we might translate the line back into sound. Musical notes also represent sound in a visual symbol. It is so fundamental, so ubiquitous, that we forget the miracle of it all. We scratch lines on paper to capture ideas, to remember dreams, to record symphonies. We’ve created a code, an alphabet, a limited yet specific number of symbols, developed a set of rules that make our scratches uniform, common and understandable. We created a “dictionary” so the sequencing of the symbols would not be individualized but uniform, shared.

In our nation we insist that we are divided, irreconcilable in our differences, but need a shared language, the most common of common grounds, to do so.

And now we text. The symbols newly created and used, emojis, are pictorial abbreviations, short cuts in a medium servicing the reduction of the message. I❤️U. WTF! 😂 Pictographs and phonetics. In the name of progress we revisit the ancients and now write like Egyptians. We communicate in hieroglyphs.

In these times, difference of language, difference of alphabet, is less of a barrier than difference of opinion. Language translators populate our devices. They are not perfect since culture is non-translatable, but we at least approach the ballpark of understanding. Yet, we are learning, even when our language is shared, that no amount of translating can build a bridge of understanding between maga and the rest of us. A shared language is most useful when facts are also shared.

I am a fan of Wade Davis, an ethnobotanist, a studier of culture and language. He tells a story of indigenous people in the Amazon rainforest, mixing rare plants, grown in different regions, for medicines. He asked them, “How do you know what plants to use?” Incredulous at his question, they laughed and replied, “The plants tell us.”

The plants tell us. “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” – Hamlet (1.5.167-8)

The lines we draw that carry the sounds that give shape to words are ultimately all drawn from our conversation with nature. Where else? The earth and the sun and moon all talk to us. When we engage with lines meant to carry meaning, like a runic code, we ask, “What does it mean?” When you look at my painting of lines that seems to carry a message, it is natural to ask, “What does it say?” And that – just that impulse – to know, to understand; it is the hope of humanity, the thing we all share, the desire that brings us together, the yearning to understand IS the desire, the most basic of desires, to join, to reach, to connect.

read Kerri’s blogpost about CHIVES AND SUN

likesharecommentsupportthankyou!

Filed under: Creativity, DR Thursday, Emergence, Uncategorized | Tagged: alphabet, artistry, common ground, connect, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, desire, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, language, meaning, meaning making, runes, story, studio melange, the melange, understanding, yearning | 1 Comment »

Hand It To Chance [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on June 17, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Mark the mark on purpose, hand it to chance, and see what comes back.” ~ Nicholas Wilton

Quinn always said, “Cultivate your serendipity.” Allow luck to greet your ability. Or, as I am learning again (and again and again…), to grow, ability needs to let go of control.

The final lesson learned by a performer, perhaps the hardest lesson of all, is to let go of the work. All of the rehearsal, all of the study, all of the repetition, the preparation, the quest for perfection…needs one final action to fulfill itself: the performer has to get out of the way. Hand the good work to chance. Let it go.

After weeks and weeks of research, she chose the peony that she wanted to plant. The root arrived with specific instructions. She chose the best spot in the garden and the right day in the right season and planted the root at the right depth facing the right direction. And then she waited for spring. She fretted the prescribed amount, no more, no less.

The little green stem broke through the earth and seemed to stall. She studied appropriate amounts of water, she studied angles of the sun and questioned her planting placement. We put up a tiny fence to protect the tender shoot from critters and our Dogga who digs. I believe, although I do not know this for a fact, I believe she offered daily prayers to the peony-powers-of-the-universe. Her little stem, like the little engine that could, struggled and produced one tiny blossom.

She studied when and how much to cut back her peony, what to do over the winter months – namely, nothing – but sometimes arriving at nothing requires copious amounts of study. At some point, feeling as if there was nothing left to be done, nothing left to investigate, somewhere between the dark of winter and the return of the light, she surrendered. She gave over. The little peony was on its own.

Ability met luck. A wet spring with warmer than usual days had peonies a-poppin’! The little stem returned with some serious chutzpah, producing not one but many vibrant beautiful blossoms. It now stands in our canon as the single most photographed peony plant in our entire peony history. “I can’t stop taking photographs,” she said, “It’s so amazing!”

And, so it is. A performer’s lesson as played in the garden. And just look what came back!

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE PEONY

likesharecommentsubscribethankyou!

Filed under: Art, Creativity, Flawed Wednesday, Uncategorized | Tagged: ability, artistry, chance, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, let go, luck, peony, preparation, rehearsal, serendipity, story, studio melange, the melange | Leave a comment »

Play And Walk Away [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on June 4, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

This is the season of vibrant color. The muted tones of winter have traveled through the pastels of early spring and stepped boldly into full saturation. The greens are not holding back. The magenta of the peony is unabashedly electric. The purple and blue blossoms on the trail demand an audience. Nature’s color wheel abandons the monochrome of the cold months and proudly and loudly performs in full contrast.

Breck-the-aspen-tree grows a few inches every day. “I wonder if we stared at Breck would we see her growing?” she asked.

We are on peony watch. It was only a few days ago that the tiny buds appeared and then like old-fashioned Jiffy pop they visibly swelled and are now bursting open. The peony flowers have a very short life-span so we give them our undivided attention and appreciate every eye-popping minute that they give us.

I bought a full color spectrum of cheap craft paint. I am in the mood to play and don’t want the expense of the paint to be a barrier. I don’t want taking-myself-too-seriously to be an obstacle. I have several small canvases and some panel pieces just waiting to be splashed. Master Miller sent me some cool painting tools so I’ve made a single rule that no brushes are allowed until the final washes – and the only brush allowed is a cheap 3″ house painting brush. Only the cool tools, scrapers, wipers, palette knives, crayons, my hands…and anything found on the shop floor. No thinking is permitted, just playing, impulse and intuition. Play and walk away. There will be plenty of time for serious study in the fall.

I want to take full advantage of the fearless energy of spring.

Kerri calls this little ditty “Primary.”

read Kerri’s blogpost about COLOR

likesharecommentsupportthankyou!

Filed under: Art, Creativity, DR Thursday, Uncategorized | Tagged: artistry, attention, color, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, energy, experiment, fearless, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, peony, play, saturation, story, studio melange, the melange | 1 Comment »

Done! [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on May 21, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

I am losing the recall of words and names. It happens. I threatened to take a brain booster and the notion sent us into gales of laughter because, we concluded, I am a more likable person with a less-sharp brain. I will do better in the world now that the edges are rounding. It is best to walk into the future without the booster and a few less facts-at-my-fingertips.

I confess that with my diminished capacity I have experienced greater contentment. Knowledge was armor and with less access to weaponry I’m having to exercise a different set of skills: keeping my mouth closed, listening, not-knowing…the things I’ve pursued my entire life but am now able to achieve because I have to practice them. Life is funny.

I’m splashing paint. I have a plethora of old canvas and odd shaped boards. Simultaneous to my new less-than-sharp brain, when in the studio, I’m experiencing the deep desire not to think about anything. To paint with no other purpose than to see what happens. Experiment. Art as life in the laboratory. Twice in the last week Kerri has come into the studio to see what I’m working on and said, “I like this one.” When I ask her what she sees, she squints her eyes, approaches the easel, and flips the painting over. Up is down and down is up. It is my clue that the painting is nearly complete.

“What would you call this?” It is always my second question: Without hesitation she gives it a name. I marvel at what she identifies in the splashes. I call the painting, “Done!”

Inevitably on the trail, she “Ooooohs” and kneels to capture the tiniest of blossoms. It is the time of year that nature gives her too much to photograph. We stop every few feet. And, although she has told me several times the names of each flower, the names never stick. That is not new. When I was auditioning actors I asked them to wear the same clothes during callbacks since I’d better remember their work by what they wore, not by their names. Visual memory. For me, the tiny blossoms are like actors. I recognize them without their names getting in the way of my appreciation.

Perhaps my recent word-recall-struggles are merely a matter of me becoming more of who I have always been? I’d pose the question to Kerri but she’d squint her eyes, flip me on my head and tell me that I was “Done!” Make no mistake, I’d be very careful NOT to ask her my second question! I do not want to know what title she’d affix to me, especially flipped over, with all the blood finding its way back to my brain.

read Kerri’s blogpost about TINY FLOWERS

likesharecommentsupportthankyou

Filed under: Art, Creativity, DR Thursday, Identity, Random, Uncategorized | Tagged: aging, appreciation, artistry, brain booster, contentment, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, painting, story, studio melange, the melange, thought | 1 Comment »

The Necessity Of Texture [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on May 14, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

“I like the flower against the wood,” she said. A statement of texture. Variance is infinitely more visually interesting than uniformity. Innovation is more about deviance than it is about conformity. Ingenuity is the blossom of wild imagination and not the child of practicality.

In every aspect of life, the pursuit of a question is far more important than the regurgitation of an answer. Learning is never about the answer. Life is never about having an answer. It is never about the hard-held-belief; it is about the capacity to challenge every scary assumption. It is about stepping beyond judgement into the unknown. That is known as expansion. It requires an open-mind.

The maga-man looked mockingly at the interviewer and said, “I don’t care what (the wannabe-dicator) does as long as he owns the libs.” What does that mean, to own the libs? The interviewer asked a maga-woman what she meant when she used the term “woke”? Like the maga-man, she has a particular hatred for folks who are “woke.” She admitted that she didn’t know what it meant but she’d heard it plenty of times and she knew she didn’t like it, whatever it is.

No ability to question or challenge. Regurgitation. This is known as a closed-mind.

To be educated – inquisitive – one need not pull a single right answer from a hat. It is far more essential to stoke curiosity and find a path of many answers en route to greater and greater questions. A single answer, unquestioned belief, though safe and perhaps temporarily gratifying, rarely provides life with texture and vitality.

It is not a mystery what will happen if this administration manages to scrub all the color from the nation, to eliminate the texture, the voices of dissent, to actually achieve dull conformity, the bland uniformity that they think will make America great. No variance. No diversity. No deviance. No ingenuity. No innovation. No imagination. No capacity to reach across difference.

A few questions, a recognition of the necessity of texture, might save this ailing nation a world of hurt and decades of self-inflicted pain.

Day Is Done (work in progress). Nothing but questions and texture.

read Kerri’s blogpost about WOOD ANEMONE

likesharecommentsupportthankyou

Filed under: Art, Creativity, DR Thursday, Education, Uncategorized | Tagged: artistry, conformity, curiosity, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, Diversity, elements of art, imagination, ingenuity, innovation, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, learning, questions, studio melange, texture, the melange, variance | 1 Comment »

Ode To Happy Accidents [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on May 7, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

The famous blue-green tint of the Ball jar is the result of a happy accident. In search of cheaper resources the brothers Ball moved their company from Buffalo, NY to Muncie, IN. The minerals found in the sand in Indiana differed from the minerals in the sand in Buffalo and voila! The glass it produced was blue-green.

The story of penicillin is also the story of a happy accident.

The history of abstract art is the story of visual happy accidents. There is a term for happy-accident-painters that I especially appreciate: intuitive painting. It is the art of self-discovery, the art of process over product. As Quinn would say, it is to cultivate serendipity. Jackson Pollock was an intuitive painter. Helen Frankenthaler was an intuitive painter. Hilma of Klint was an intuitive painter. The late work of Henri Matisse was intuitive.

Happy accidents are trial-without-error because each trial carries a discovery. In this definition, all of science is a happy accident; the accumulated knowledge derived from a mountain of experiments. The same is true in the history of art. “Try it and see what happens” leads to some surprising insights.

What happy-accident-insights can be gleaned from the life-long-experiment asking, “Who am I?” It is never a direct path. It is a circular route with a guide named Intuition who may encourage you to splash paint as a means of self-discovery or might load your bottom line with so much discontent that you move your glass company to Muncie in search of cheaper sand – only to find yourself renowned for a unique shade of blue-green.

The Stuff of Dreams, 24″x 24″, mixed media on a slab of acrylic

read Kerri’s blogpost about BALL JARS

likesharecommentsupportthankyou

Filed under: Art, Creativity, DR Thursday, Education | Tagged: artistry, Ball Jar, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, experiment, happy accident, Helen Frankenthaler, Hilma of Klint, insight, intuition, intuitive painting, Jackson Pollock, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, process, story, studio melange, the melange, trial and error | 1 Comment »

Secret Things [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on May 1, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

“I want to be with those who know secret things or else alone.” ~ Rainier Maria Rilke

Cardinals remind us of Kerri’s parents. A pair is nesting nearby and much to our delight they frequent our yard. The brilliant red male was splashing about in the birdbath; it took to flight the moment she snapped the photo. My associations of the image are spiritual.

One of my favorite paintings is a piece that very few people appreciate. I called it Canopy. It features a bird in flight. For me it is a spiritual painting. It is a painting of my desire to know secret things.

I love Leonardo da Vinci’s drawings of flying machines. Humans with wings. He would have looked at Kerri’s photo of the cardinal and asked, “How can I do that?” He didn’t just ponder it, he chased it.

Rilke wrote: “Go into yourself. Find out the reason that commands you to write; see whether it has spread its roots into the very depths of your heart; confess to yourself whether you would have to die if you were forbidden to write.” Most of my life has been a journey into myself to find the reason that commands me to paint and write. Kerri and I often compare notes on the times in our lives that we nearly died when turning our backs on our artistry. We talk of “getting out of our own way” so the muse can come through. It feels like taking flight. It feels like escaping a cage.

“The purpose of life is to be defeated by greater and greater things.” ~ Rainier Maria Rilke

Too many people have attempted to solve my life by suggesting I make a career of painting pet portraits or people portraits. I’ve learned not to roll my eyes. It’s hard to explain. It’s not about the painting or the written word. It’s about the chase of something intangible, unattainable. Among other things, Leonardo chased the spirit of flight. Kerri and I chase secret things, impossible to grasp, things like the flight of spirit.

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about FLIGHT

likesharecommentsupportthankyou

Filed under: Art, Creativity, Identity, KS Friday | Tagged: artistry, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, flight, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, Leonardo da Vinci, painting, secret things, spirit, spiritual, story, studio melange, take flight, the melange, writing | 1 Comment »

The Original Impulse [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on April 9, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

To be honest, there was a profit motive driving the Melange when we began our daily writing practice. We had SO many cartoons and paintings and books and compositions and recordings sitting inert in our studios. Why not call attention to what we’d created? Kerri designed products, everything from art prints to leggings, that we offered through Society6 storefronts. Our cartoons and paintings and books and compositions and recordings remain inert in our studios. The storefronts realized anemic sales at best, so we eventually let them lapse. But the daily writing remains. We love it. We write together to write together. There is no other reason.

I’m not sure why I began drawing when I was a wee-lad. I only know that the impulse was pure. I had to draw. There was nothing I’d rather do in all the world than draw and paint. It was a necessity, like breathing.

The arc of an artists life eventually leads to the need to sell (the utility companies do not accept paintings or CD’s as payment. Plus, artists like to eat just like all other professionals). The pure impulse is necessarily mixed with the need to produce something that sells. Along the way there are ongoing conversations and questions with other artists about relevance. The pure impulse gets confused and necessarily questions its worth.

Questions of worth can be a killer if not followed all the way to the source. I know many artists who’ve set down their brushes and locked forever their studio doors. I know a legion of actors who waved the white flag and stopped auditioning. Some channeled their creative energy into other forms. Some did not.

Questions of worth, if pursued, inevitably arrive at questions of Why. The cycle comes around, just as it did for us in our Melange. We thought we were writing to make money but, as it turns out, we were writing because we love to write. Together. The impulse is pure. There’s nothing we’d rather do.

We are arriving at the same epicenter of Why with our other art forms. Why does Kerri compose? Why do I paint? Both of us are reaching back to the original impulse, cleaning out the confusion. In her past there is a young girl who climbed a special tree to write poetry just as in mine there is a young boy who painted through the night on his bedroom wall and was surprised by the sunrise. She stands at the door of her studio and stares at her piano, the young girl stands on the other side of the room staring back. I stand in the center of my studio and stare at my easel, the younger version of me stands beyond my easel. He is patient. He knows I know my Why.

20 brought Kerri tulips for her birthday. Not only has she enjoyed them but she has photographed their life cycle. She walks through life with her camera at the ready. The impulse is pure. She loves it. Nothing more, nothing less. “Lookit!” she exclaims, turning to show me her photos.

“I see prompts for future blogposts,” I say and she smiles. The impulse is pure.