Flawed Wednesday | The Direction of Intention

Fill With Wonder [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on January 11, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Upon seeing the first tree at the entrance gate I asked a question that I repeated all night, “How did they do that?”

My question was rhetorical. I did not expect an answer. I might as well have exclaimed,”OMG!” or, “WOW!” or whispered, “Unbelievable!” Instead, my wide-eyed-awe expressed as a quiz-to-no-one.

Kerri sometimes quotes from Anne Lamott’s book, Help, Thanks, Wow: The Three Essential Prayers. I realized, walking through the Garden, astonished by the lights, that I was immersed in one of Anne’s prayers. I’m not a big prayer guy so it amused me that my enthusiastic WOW was voicing as a question. The images projected on the mist. The field of dancing firelight. The light cathedral. How-did-they-do-that-how-did-they-do-that-how-did-they-do-that?

As we left the Garden and wandered toward the car I was delighted not to have an answer. The lights moved me to tears. I laughed heartily. I was stunned to silence. I watched children and adults alike, dancing into the dome and running toward the many-colored fireflies. Knowing the “how” would have diminished a bit of the magic. The more important question was obvious: there is no better “why” than to fill people with wonder.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE TREE

Filed under: Art, Creativity, Flawed Wednesday, Play | Tagged: Anne Lamott, artistry, awe, Chicago Botanical Gardens, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, help thanks wow, how, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, magic, prayers, story, studio melange, the melange, traditions, Why, wonder, wonderment | 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 »

Give The Gift [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on December 28, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.” ~ Pablo Picasso

As guiding principles go, this one, for me, is top of the heap: deep down, everyone wants to play. Behind every stony face and wrinkled brow is a titanic impulse to play. It’s as true in boardrooms (or bored rooms) as it is in artist’s studios.

Sometimes it takes effort to peel off the layers of acquired seriousness. Sometimes it takes a deep sea dive to locate the original impulse and bring it to the surface for air. No matter the case, with a proper opportunity, play will find a way. Air will fill the lungs and hoots will follow.

If I had a magic wand I would ding the world-of-humans on the noggin’ and reveal their original impulse. Drop the armor, take off the mask and feel the sunshine. Kick off the loafers and feel the grass beneath your feet. Slide across the floor in your socks. Ties are better used as headwear or for slinging snowballs.

Wind up the reindeer and listen to the laughter in the race to the edge of the table. The inner child is one wind-up reindeer away. The inner artist needs finger paint or frosting for a cookie. The opportunity for play is the best gift of this or any season.

read Kerri’s blogpost about REINDEER

Filed under: Art, Creativity, Flawed Wednesday, Play | Tagged: armor, artistry, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, impulse, inner artist, inner child, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, laughter, masks, opportunity, Picasso, play, story, studio melange, the melange | 2 Comments »

Throw Open The Window [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on December 21, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

Sometimes it feels as if we were shot into space for a few years and have come back to much changed Earth. Or, it feels like we were stranded on a desert island and are returning to places now strange in their familiarity. Reentry from isolation. Everything is changed. We are changed. The rituals of the season punctuate the strangeness.

We’ve been delighted to once again have dinner with friends. Unmasked. Unprotected. Indoors. I look at the faces of the people I love as we laugh and I think, “Oh, yes. I remember this.” The warmth of companions-in-life, reaching across time and covid boundaries. “We missed you,” we say, relearning who we are together. Our faces are older. Perhaps wiser in all that has passed.

Last year we drove to North Carolina. We arrived late in the day on Christmas. We walked through the small town, beautifully lit for the season, though seemingly abandoned. Our footsteps echoed off the walls. We were happy to be there, enjoyed the displays in the windows, we walked down the center of the street with no thought of possible traffic. We held hands. The absence of others was so normal that we didn’t think it odd that we had an entire town to ourselves.

This year is the mirror image, an alternate reality. People are out. We are out though the vestiges of isolation hang on us like Marley’s chain. We stop to take photos of the lights like ethnographers fascinated by the ceremonies of the locals. I found myself staring at the row of illuminated trees wondering what it represents. “Why can’t it just be pretty!” I admonished myself. “This is how people celebrate the season.”

And, aren’t we all looking for the moment that Scrooge awakes after a night of ghosts with new eyes and a deeper understanding of precious life, throwing open the window to the morning sun, hoping against all hope that he hasn’t missed it and asks, “Boy! You there! What day is it?”

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about LIGHTS

Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Identity, Metaphor, Perspective | Tagged: A Christmas Carol, alternate reality, artistry, boundaries, celebration, christmas, covid, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, hope, isolation, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, Marley, post covid, reentry, ritual, Scrooge, story, strange, studio melange, the melange | 1 Comment »

See Through The Trees [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on December 14, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

I was about to paint a new composition over an old canvas. Kerri flung herself in front of the old painting claiming that she loved it and had recently admired it. I wrinkled my brow at the impossibility of her claim. The old painting was an experiment I labeled “hotel art.” Also, it was sideways in the stacks. IF she admired it at all she was admiring it sideways. Standing between me and my canvas she said in all seriousness, “Do what you want, it’s your painting.”

Now, I will never paint over that painting. First, because I can never forget the face she made when she sprang into painting-savior mode. It melted my boorish heart. Next, because her “Do-what-you-want” manipulation was so unmasked and shameless that I’d suffer deep guilt for the rest of my days on earth if I did what I wanted and dared touch my dreaded hotel art. It’s no longer my painting. It’s become a moment that I adore, a memory that I cherish.

The new painting, had it made it into the world, would’ve been called, “Trains Through Trees.” I’ve been making sketches for a few years but, until recently, never arrived at something I liked. It’s a narrative. Our favorite yellow trail circles near railroad tracks and often on our walks a train rumbles through. For weeks Kerri made a series of videos, trying to catch the movement of the colorful graffitied train cars through the trees. Train performance art. I loved her excitement at the approaching train as she raced to a good spot to take her video. Those moments inspired an idea for a painting. The dreaded hotel art was the ideal canvas shape.

Two passing moments collide. The trains through trees. The painting-savior. They speak volumes about our life. Tiny moments like a hot cup of tea on a cold misty afternoon. They warm me. And, aren’t all of our days rich-rich-rich with the best moments of our lives, if we only took the time to notice them?

read Kerri’s blogpost about TINY MOMENTS

Filed under: Art, Flawed Wednesday, Love, Seeing | Tagged: artistry, awareness, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, ideas, inspiration, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, memory, moments, paintings, paying attention, performance art, presence, seeing, story, studio melange, the melange, trains, trees | 3 Comments »

Wink With Piet [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on November 30, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

My first thought was of Piet Mondrian. Not the colorful compositions but a never-before-seen shadow side. Abstract reduction into simple geometry. An artistic vocabulary concerned with spirituality and universal values. I used to ponder how a utopian pursuit of the spiritual landed on clean hard geometry; bold primary colors set inside hard black lines. I’m certain that, given a similar pursuit, my visual vocabulary would have been softer. Ethereal.

It was the first snow. I looked down at the aging planks of the bench. A criss-cross-apple-sauce of workmanship dusted with white. We’ve never painted the loveseat. After so many years, so many winters and summers, rain and snow and sun, the grain of the wood is alive with texture. An aged face.

One of my favorite rituals of spring is the first sitting. After another freezing winter, another year of age, will the wood continue to hold my weight, our weight? We hold hands and sit slowly, gingerly. Our knees creak before our weight finds the planks. Like a baton pass, the wood takes on the groaning as our knees pass our load to the seat. We sit for a moment with eyes open wide. And then, after a slight bounce-test, we relax. The wood will hold. Our loveseat is like a faithful friend.

The snow melted as fast as it arrived. That is the way of first snow. Blink and you’ll miss it. Except for the love seat and matching chair, we hauled all the other summer furniture into the garage. The table and umbrella. The small ladders that serve as end tables. The fire pit. The first dusting of snow is the cue. The pond freezes so we pull the pump and fountain. Soon, we’ll stack the plastic Adirondack chairs and they’ll take the last available spot in our tiny garage. We push the loveseat to the wall beneath the kitchen window.

We stand on the deck and sigh, feeling the weight of coming winter. The dark days. For a moment, the yard seems bleak. But then, the birds land on the wire. The squirrel highway is open for business. We hear the ancient croak of the cranes in the distance. A cold gust brings a blizzard of falling leaves. A wholly different kind of abundance. The energy moves underground. A time for sleeping and quiet rejuvenation.

Simple geometry. Reduction to cold days and hard lines. Brilliant blue sky. A wink from Piet Mondrian.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE DECK

Filed under: Art, Flawed Wednesday, Language, Seeing | Tagged: abstraction, artistry, composition, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, energy, geometry, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, Piet Mondrian, rejuvenation, ritual, seasons change, soul, spirituality, story, studio melange, the melange, visual vocabulary, winter | 1 Comment »

Cross The County Line [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on November 23, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

Drive west from our house near the lake for a few miles and you’ll come to the interstate freeway that runs north to Milwaukee and south to Chicago. Cross under the freeway, continuing west and you enter what we call “the county.” Rich farmland. The freeway serves as a dividing line from urban to rural.

Sometimes it feels like crossing the line into another culture. Blue to red. The county redness puzzles me but that’s a topic for another post. We drive into the foreign culture with the same curiosity we might bring to Tunisia or India. “I wonder what they see…” is a common refrain.

Sometimes crossing the freeway line feels like an escape into open space and a breath of fresh air. Once upon a time we took Sunday drives; the point was to go get lost in the county. “Left or right?” Kerri would ask. Both choices leading to the unknown.

We are avid freeway avoiders. It doesn’t bother us to take extra time traveling to Chicago or Milwaukee on the backroads. Less aggression. We relax and enjoy the ride. Often, especially during rush hour, our backroads travel proves faster than the traffic jam.

Last week, en route to the hand specialist in Milwaukee, we traveled our usual backroad path, winding through the county. There was no snow at our house when we left. We crossed the freeway into another landscape, blanketed with white. It was as if we crossed the line into another season. We entered an alternate reality.

“That’s so odd,” I said.

“No,” Kerri replied. “That’s the county.”

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE COUNTY

Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Random | Tagged: alternate reality, artistry, backroads, culture, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, difference, dividing line, division, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, red, snow, story, studio melange, the county, the melange, winter | 1 Comment »

Face The Sun [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on November 16, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

Brilliant yellow leaves are raining down in our backyard. The pond is disappearing beneath the blanket and although the little fountain has been knocked off center, it refuses to relinquish its duty. November. The temperatures are dropping like a stone.

We were awake deep into the night. We’d given up on sleep. We’d already indulged in a snack and were about to watch a PCT hiking video when we heard the owl. Our neighbor, John, told us it was back but we hadn’t yet heard it. At first, we thought we imagined the quiet who-whoo. Kerri opened the window. Cold air and clear hoots poured in. An old friend returned. We wanted to jump up and dance and clap but refrained. Sometimes quiet revelry is best.

We came around the bend in the trail we’ve come to know so well. The shady parts were cold and the sunny bits felt divine. Warmth to the bone, the kind you drink in through your face and the palms of your hands. Emerging from a shady bend we turned toward the sun when the dandelion caught us off guard. Seasonal confusion? Or, perhaps, dandy-outlier? How on earth was this splash of summer-yellow shining in the late autumn chill?

Kerri knelt to capture the intrepid weed. I thought about her Fistful of Dandelions, a song to warm a mother’s heart. This rebellious single flower was, like me, turning its full face to the sun. A kindred spirit. A weed to warm my hiker’s heart. A spirit-lift in a time of too much darkness.

I’m given to metaphor so decided this hopeful weed with deep, deep roots, was, like the owl, sending me a message. An old friend returned. Offering encouragement. Chin up. Face to the sun. Anything is possible. Optimism need not flee with the onset of cold.

read Kerri’s blogpost about the DANDELION

Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Gratitude, Metaphor | Tagged: artistry, dandelion, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, encouragement, face the sun, fistful of dandelions, hope, intrepid, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, old friends, optimism, owl, possibility, rebellion, seasons, story, studio melange, the melange | 1 Comment »

Sit In The Megaphone [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on November 9, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

It was like crawling into a time capsule. The nature megaphone was where we remembered it. The wood weathered into light grey, we crawled inside as we once so often did.

There was a time that we walked this trail several times a week. In winter, we strapped on snowshoes and huffed our way around the green trail. Bristol Wood. It sounds like a place of elves and fairies, a place Shakespeare might set a comedy. We regularly left the difficulties of our day and disappeared into it, emerging after an hour or two refreshed.

The megaphone served as a resting spot on the trail. Like little kids in a fort, we’d crawl inside and soak up the sun. Often we’d pass a small bottle of wine and snack on broken chips from a ziplock bag. Sometimes we’d talk. Mostly we listened, closed our eyes, felt the warmth of the day.

We stopped going to Bristol Wood when the county contracted with an adventure company to build an extensive ropes course in the center of the woods. Suddenly, our sanctuary was transformed into an amusement park. That was 3 or 4 years ago.

On a lark, we drove to Bristol. It was an unseasonably sunny day, mid-week, the ropes course closed until the weekend. No one was there. We tied on our boots and stepped into the woods. We went back in time, our feet shushing through the leaves.

Our bodies knew the trail, pulled along by remembrance, we smiled at the familiar trees. Old friends. At one point we stood silent and still on the trail as the autumn leaves rained down. It seemed that Bristol was happy to see us, too.

And, then, we came upon the megaphone. “It’s still here,” she said, crawling inside. I followed, nestling into the sun, feet planted firmly on the curving side wall.

“I could fall asleep,” I said, knowing we might be risking a Rip-Van-Winkle. A deep and dreamless sleep. If we slept for a hundred years, I wondered what world we’d step back into?

As if she read my mind, she snuggled into the megaphone and said, “This world is so different than the one we knew the last time we sat in here.” True. Too true.

Our time capsule. Nature’s megaphone.

read Kerri’s blogpost about the MEGAPHONE

Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Perspective | Tagged: artistry, bristol wood, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, nature maegaphone, remembrance, rip van winkle, sanctuary, story, studio melange, the melange, time capsule, time travel | Leave a comment »

Re-Invert [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on November 2, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

Three snakes crossed our path. A sign, some would say, that the world is about to go upside-down. Topsy-turvy. Of note: Topsy-Turvy is a brewery in Lake Geneva and also a movie about Gilbert and Sullivan. Also of note: our world flipped over a few days after the snakes-on-the-path.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell when things are upside-down. Inversion need not be dramatic or accompanied by a marching band. It can be a slow process. A multitude of weirdness piles up. Also, we live in “interesting times” so upside-down is not so easy to spot because, mostly, our national-world-order is already on its noggin.

Sitting at our kitchen table late at night, we had a hysterical conversation with Rob about panic. The inner-voice of reason advising calm while you thrash around making things worse. Even though relaxing-amidst-the-tangle is the only way to extract yourself, every muscle in your body flails. Panic eats reason for lunch.

As the blood rushes to our brains and we realize that the leaves ought to point in the other direction, we diligently go out on the trail to entice a different number of snakes to cross our path – or perhaps a nice deer or two. We happily entertain the possibility of another sign or symbol, something to foreshadow the righting of the upended ship. Feet on the ground. Blue sky above.

In the meantime, there’s a brewery in Lake Geneva. A movie about Gilbert and Sullivan.

read Kerri’s blogpost about Topsy-Turvy