An Experience [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on September 17, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

“In the modern era, one of the most active metaphors for the spiritual project is “art.” ~ Susan Sontag (via The Marginalian)

It was within a meditation on silence that Susan Sontag wrote this thought. With planes and trains and automobiles, with cell phones and 24 hour news cycles, with weed whackers and garbage trucks and sirens, with podcasts to plug into and streaming on demand…opportunities for silence are rare, indeed.

All of my life I have retreated to my studio to “get quiet.” I’ve learned – and it seems to me a no-brainer -that there is a direct connection between silence-of-the-mind and presence. And, the experience of ‘something-bigger-than-me” can only happen in the present moment. It’s a direct experience, not an abstraction.

Marion Milner – under the pen name of Joanna Field – wrote that happiness cannot be found in the narrow focus of purpose because it lives “out there”, it promises fulfillment somewhere in a distant imagined future. It’s only in the broad focus of the senses that happiness can be found because it is immediate. Happiness is only possible/available/accessible in-the-here-and-now. It’s an experience, not an abstraction.

Art brings us into the present moment. Art has the power to break through isolating mental abstractions into the shared space of experience.

Joseph Campbell wrote that our endeavor in meaning-making is the opposite of our distant ancestors. For them, meaning was made (or found) through the group. We are tasked with finding it within ourselves.

“It” is never found in insistent preachers or rule-books or exhibitions of righteousness. These are the noisy aspects of the narrow focus erected on a platform of “should”.

If “it” is to be found, if “it” is to be experienced, inner silence is the threshold.

Take a walk in nature. Become captive to the color of the leaves. Entice the quiet found in the studio. These are the secrets of the composer whose music lifts your spirit, the poet who stirs your humanity, the dancer who challenges your idea of what’s possible…all bringing you into the dazzling present moment. It’s a place the artist knows well, an experience beyond words.

read Kerri’s blogpost about RED LEAVES

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Suspicious Sugar Sipping [David’s blog on Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on September 10, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

Breaking news! It was just discovered that most hummingbirds winter in Mexico and Central America. They are, in fact, migrants and not the benign sugar-sipping citizens of the USA as previously believed.

Rest assured, roving bands of ICE are on it. Luckily, the Supreme Court just dismantled constitutional protections against racial profiling. Hummingbirds join Latinos as groups who can be detained without cause. Any bird perceived to be a hummingbird is now subject to arrest and subsequent deportation without due process.

The court’s ruling clears the way for ICE to detain and disappear any bird, migrating or non-migratory residents, without cause or due process, based on looks (asian, caucasian, african american, latino, indigenous*…), occupation (chef, construction worker, professor, lawyer, artist, economist, democratic politician…) or language (truth, fact, data, wisdom, knowledge) spoken in Spanish, English or any of the other approximately 7,100 languages spoken on earth.

Residents are encouraged to immediately report any suspicious sugar-sipping-behavior – or anyone who espouses moral clarity – to your neighborhood roving ICE band.

(Dear maga reader: In case you missed it, this post is purposely facetious. Facetious is an adjective and means to treat serious issues with deliberately inappropriate humor; flippant.)

***

*The U.S. federal government’s race categories include American Indian or Alaska Native, Asian, Black or African American, Native Hawaiian or Other Pacific Islander, and White, with an option to select two or more races. In addition, these categories are often paired with Hispanic or Latino and Middle Eastern or North African to form a comprehensive list of seven co-equal categories for data collection on race and ethnicity.

Once racial profiling is legal for one group, it applies to all groups. The Supreme Court is sworn to uphold the Constitution, not to dismantle it as the six conservative justices are now doing.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HUMMINGBIRDS

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Plant The Seed [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on September 3, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

And just like that, fall is in the air. The harvest is happening and jalapeno poppers are on the menu. We have a bumper crop of tomatoes and are making an extra batch of pesto since the basil is outdoing itself. In the middle of nature’s man-made erratica, our garden thrives and reminds us to appreciate abundance where she shows her face.

Over the Labor Day weekend, a woman, an elder on the block, decided to host a neighborhood gathering. People came out of their houses with platters of food to share. Kerri has lived here for 36 years and has a long history with many of the people who sat in a circle and chatted. I’ve lived here for 13 years and although I’d seen many of the faces before, I’ve waved to many of the faces as we walked by, but I’d never actually had a conversation with most of my neighbors. They are delightful and quirky, each with an interesting story to share.

I decided that the people of this nation need one-big-block party with one rule: no talk of politics. Bring food to share. Shake hands. Ask, “How are you?” Talk about the real stuff, the plumbing problem or share photos of grandchildren. Talk about the zealous garden that the hot and humid summer weather ignited.

Kerri and I used to host many, many gatherings: slow dance parties, midnight X-mas eve bonfires, ukulele band rehearsals and choir potlucks. Since COVID and with the rise of ugly-maga-madness, we’ve “pulled up the drawbridge”. We keep and guard a tight circle of friends. We cultivate a sanctuary in our backyard.

This morning I read a quote by Noam Chomsky:

Neoliberal democracy. Instead of citizens, it produces consumers. Instead of communities, it produces shopping malls. The net result is an atomized society of disengaged individuals who feel demoralized and socially powerless. In sum, neoliberalism is the immediate and foremost enemy of genuine participatory democracy, not just in the United States but across the planet, and will be for the foreseeable future.

Maga is neoliberal. Project 2025 is neoliberal: it promotes “liberalizing” markets, meaning the removal of all regulation and oversight, while eliminating anything that smacks of service or a social program. Neoliberalism has been a disaster in the past; it promotes oligarchy and fosters dictatorship. Our Civil War and our Great Depression were in large part produced by a neoliberalist agenda. It worships business, undermines service, and fosters division. It is the toxic philosophy creating the national disaster we currently endure. Neoliberalism is a Roman orgy for the wealthiest few. It is an economic speeding car with no brakes and cares not-a-whit for who or what it runs over. It always ends in a nasty crash.

The phrase in Chomsky’s quote that struck a chord was “The net result is an atomized society…” Here we are. Atomized. It is undeniable. It is antagonistic.

On my growing list of responses to the question, “What can we do?” I am adding, “Host a neighborhood gathering.” Breaking bread together is an ancient tradition, perhaps as old as humanity itself. At the very least it is a step toward connection. Social power is a group sport and begins when neighbors gather and talk. A neighborhood gathering plants the seed for participation and active community, a someday-place-of-appreciation, a mighty harvest, where abundance will gladly show her face.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HARVEST

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The Real Promise [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on August 27, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Too many of us still believe our differences define us.” ~ John Lewis

I confess, it has been a life-long fascination. Seriously, since I was a little kid, I’ve been amused, confused, and periodically gobsmacked by the swirling contradiction of identity-messaging in these un-United States.

Because we are the single most individualistic culture on the planet, we place high importance on being unique. We are encouraged to stand out. And yet, the first lesson I learned in school was how to stand quietly in line. We buy clothes that are meant to express our own distinct style while hyper-market-pressured to fit our image to the latest trend.

I spent years and years working with people who spent thousands of dollars outfitting home art studios so that they might express their own unique artistry…and then froze in their newly built temple, so fearful of what others might think of their creation. How many times have I heard someone, dressed smartly in their latest Ralph Lauren, tell me that they were looking for their voice?

It’s untenable. It’s no wonder we are perpetually self-discombobulated. The dreadful shadow of our national commitment to bewilderment is the game drawn along the color line that we’ve played since our nation’s inception: If they gain, we lose. If we gain, they lose.

We-the-people wrestle by placing the accent on the hard line of our differences. We wrestle with reaching across the hard line of difference to find our common ground: most recently our reaching has been known as DEI. Diversity. Equity. Inclusion. We strive to be one in our campaign to be individual.

If there is one universal truth I learned in my life as an artist, in my work with people struggling to find their novelty and power, it is this: unique voice is found in service to others. Unique expression is available when the self-serving ego gets out of the way. It’s a paradox.

Personal voice is meaningless unless it helps other people. To guide. To question. To recognize. To join. Actors perform to unite us in a shared story. Poets write to open us to universal truths. Musicians play to bring us together in a common experience. The real power, the promise available in these United States is no different than the promise bubbling inside each individual. Rare and special voice is found in service to the common good.

Artistry and governance share this trait: grace and power is always found in uniting and is invariably lost in dividing. We may someday realize the great promise in these United States if/when we at long last lay down the tired game of manufactured division and find our true, unique and powerful voice by uplifting all unique, diverse, and beautiful voices, a chorus in service to a common center called democracy.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE BLACK SHEEP

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Beautiful. Perhaps.[David’s blog on Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on August 20, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Everyone thinks of changing the world, but no one thinks of changing himself.” ~ Leo Tolstoy

We have watched Barney-the-piano change over these many years. As he ages and falls apart we discuss how he has become more beautiful. It is a sentiment that we do not allow for ourselves as we have also aged and changed over these many years.

“Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” ~ James Baldwin

There are days that I do not recognize myself. I look in the mirror and see my grandfather. I look in my heart and am surprised by what I see. In these past months I have discovered my intolerance and I am proud of my intolerance. I have discovered my hard lines of belief. I do not believe that masked men should be plucking people off the streets. I do not believe we should scrub history to make white supremacy palatable. Now, when I look in my heart, I know exactly what I believe. And I like what I see.

“Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world.” ~ Nelson Mandela

I recently wrote a play about this nation’s resistance to education. Educated people ask questions. Educated people are not easily drowned in propaganda. Educated people do not fear learning that they are wrong because the point of education has nothing to do with right or wrong answers and everything to do with expanding hearts and minds. Minds that expand reach toward the unknown. Minds that close stagnate in the safety of what is known. Entropy, the gradual decline to disorder.

“Change is the only constant.” ~ Heraclitus

Barney is beautiful. He has been home to chipmunks. He is a resting spot for squirrels. Birds revel where he once sported keys. He has dropped all illusions of grandeur and each day reveals his true nature. He makes progress toward earth. He does not resist his natural path. That is the secret of his beauty.

“Make every effort to change things you do not like. If you cannot make a change, change the way you have been thinking. You might find a new solution.” ~ Maya Angelou

Master Marsh once told me that when caught himself complaining about something that he had three choices. Shut up (stop complaining). Do something about it. Or leave. In the current reality of our nation I am not able shut up. In fact, I feel it is necessary to raise the volume. That is what I am doing. We write and write and write. We ask ourselves every day, “What more can we do?”

“The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing our thinking.” ~ Albert Einstein

In their advanced age both Maya Angelou and Albert Einstein arrived at the same conclusion. They agree with Leo Tolstoy: to be better on this earth, we need to change our thinking. We need to think about changing ourselves. Looking at our nation (ourselves) doesn’t it beg the obvious questions: What are we thinking? Are we capable of changing our thinking?

Perhaps, as we dissolve, as we crumble like Barney, we will discover at the core of our national story the rot of exclusion. Then, perhaps, we can face our dysfunction, root it out, and change our thinking. Perhaps we can become the inclusive home that our nature – and our founding ideals – intended us to be. Beautiful. Perhaps.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BARNEY

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What I Remember [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on August 13, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

Memory is a funny thing. It’s almost never accurate. Over time we revisit and restory our life experiences, scrambling the order of events, forgetting essential details while hanging on with white knuckles to specific moments that we understand as truth.* This happened. It matters. I remember it.

I re-member it.

Joseph Campbell introduced me to a phrase, an aspect that is present in all creation myths: the paradox of dual focus. “…so now, at this critical juncture, where the One breaks into the many, destiny “happens,”but at the same time is “brought about.”

Kerri and I have an ongoing conversation about the paradox of dual focus. For instance, our coming-together-story seems fated, as if it was part of the grand-plan all along. “It was meant to be!” we exclaim. And, at the same time, we ask, “What are the odds?” Our meeting was a happy accident in a vast chaotic universe.

Both/And.

It just happened. And, it was meant to be. It depends upon how we re-member it. It depends upon how we want to story it.

A Balinese man told me that, in Bali, when two people crash their cars into each other, their first thought is “I am supposed to meet this person.” Insurance claims and blame are not priorities. Fate orchestrated a fender bender. The strangers emerge from their cars and greet each other as if fortune had just smiled upon them; they are two pieces of a greater puzzle come together.

Supposed to happen. Accident.

The greater puzzle. The essence beyond the fragments. The One that breaks into the many. Focusing on the small stone does not negate the truth of the mountain. The single blossom is an expression of the plant, which is nourished by the soil and rain and seasons and critters…

Memory is like that. It is both stone and mountain. Blossom and ecosystem. The order of things is less revealing than the essence, the relationship to the whole. We grow and change and so that what might have at one time seemed a hardship now seems a course correction, a blessing. Kismet.

It happened. It matters. That’s what I remember.

*(It is a sign of our times that I feel it necessary to distinguish my thoughts on individual memory from the facts of history. We live in a time when those in power are actively editing, scrubbing and rewriting history. They concoct a narrative that has little to do with the actual history of our nation. This is not dual focus. This is white supremacist fantasy-creation.)

read Kerri’s blogpost about BLOSSOMS

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Re-Right The Un-Real [David’s blog on Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on July 30, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

She teased herself, saying, “Look how many posts I’ve written lately using the word “Real” in the title!” There were 3 in the past few weeks.

“Of course you have.” I said, “We’re living in a time that reality is just damn hard to believe.” For instance, our current president has his very own Wikipedia page listing the numerous accusations of sexual assault against him, dating back to the 1970’s. It’s a lengthy list. One of the women on the list was thirteen years old when she claims he raped her at one of Epstein’s parties. Of course, this page, these accusations, have been available for all to read for years. How unreal is it that he is being protected by the Department of Justice, the Supreme Court, those who call themselves Christian – all the while the red-red-party loudly proclaims moral authority and trumpets their mission of “protecting” our sons, daughters and wives against the evil Woke?

Un-real.

It is one of the reasons why we planted the sweet potato vine. First, I was awed by its color and luminescence. Seriously, I’ve never seen a plant glow or grow like this vine. Each day I step out back and stare at it, saying, “Unreal.” It’s more beautiful than I can believe. In an upside-down era it re-rights the world. It is real.

Recently, as if it intended to delight me to my core, a single caladium leaf emerged from the field of sweet-potato-vine-vibrant-green. “Look! An outlier!” I called to Kerri.

“Just like us,” she said, admiring the misfit. We poked around the plant to make sure this lone caladium leaf was really emerging from within the sweet potato vine. It really is. It, too, is real.

Real (adjective): 1. actually existing as a thing or occurring in fact; not imagined or supposed.

What’s real? Our current president is an adjudicated rapist, a convicted felon, a serial liar with a wiki-rap-sheet of sexual assault accusations that takes more than a single sitting to read. Those are facts, not imagined or supposed. Even so, his sycophants are doing back flips to keep we-the-people from seeing what is really in the Epstein files. They claim – as they have for over a decade – that what’s real is fake and what is fake is real. Apologists for the unforgivable. Apparently, accountability is nowhere in their party, nowhere in their plan, nowhere in their president, thus we are hit each day with a tsunami of conspiracy, chaos and blame, a festival of the fact-free, the supposed fantastic, the un-real.

Is it any wonder that each day we shake our heads and huff, “Really?” And then we head outside to check in with our sweet potato vine and outlier caladium leaf in an attempt to re-right our topsy-turvey world, affirming for ourselves what is actually real – and what is blatantly not.

read Kerri’s blog post about THE CALADIUM LEAF

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Each Other’s Destiny [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on July 23, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

This tiny white clover flower, no bigger than my fingernail, is an entire universe unto itself. It is a miracle of pattern, designed to attract pollinators. Although I am certain is doesn’t waste a moment of its existence pondering its purpose, it serves as a nutrient to soil and through its vast root system it prevents erosion.

When I write that it is an entire universe unto itself what I really mean is that it is intimately connected to everything. Although we have given it a name and dissected it to the last atom, it does not know itself as separate from the sun that feeds it or the bees and mammals that feed on it. It serves and is served. Both/And. That is the nature of the entire universe. We have words for it: interconnection, flow, movement, relationship.

Words separate this from that. That’s the whole point of a word: to make distinct. To make distinct for us and for our purposes. And, because we think our thoughts in words we can’t help but think of ourselves as separate, distinct. In our word-infused minds we lose contact with the connection. Is it no wonder that we spend much of our time pondering our purpose? Having blunted the experience of interconnection is it no wonder that we story ourselves above it all?

That we name things has given us the illusion that we are higher beings, better than the white clover flower. Hubris is most often the cause of civilization’s collapse. Our capacity to name things comes with a matching capacity to deny – that is to lie and lie until we lie to ourselves. We are both the spider and the fly entangled in the web.

Leave it to a poet to capture in two sentences what I have not captured in paragraphs:

“The farthest star and the mud at our feet are a family; and there is no decency or sense in honoring one thing, or a few things, and then closing the list. The pine tree, the leopard, the Platte River, and ourselves – we are at risk together, or we are on our way to a sustainable world together. We are each other’s destiny.” ~ Mary Oliver, Upstream, Selected Essays.

***

we are trying to regroup, rethink and refocus our melange blogpost writing a bit. we – like you – know what is really happening in our world and do not need one more person – including ourselves – telling us the details of this saddest of descents destroying democracy and humanity. though we know our effort will not be 100% – for there is sooo much to bemoan in these everydays – we have decided to try and lean into another way – to instead write about WHAT ELSE IS REAL. this will not negate negativity, but we hope that it will help prescribe presence as antidote and balm for our collective weariness. ~ xoxo kerri & david

read Kerri’s blogpost about WHITE CLOVER

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Do! [David’s blog on Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on July 16, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

Since I asked a question in our most recent smack-dab, I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind: “What actions – beyond awareness-raising – will effectively save our democracy…?”

If you are like me, you are sick-to-death of reading posts from our elected democratic leaders decrying the latest moral-offense and breach of the Constitution of the republican administration. It’s become something of a game to read the first comment which inevitably is something like, “I know this already! So what are you doing about it?”

The operative word is “do”. The question for our elected leaders should not absolve us of responsibility and would better read, “What are we doing about it?”

We are aware. What are we doing?

Raising awareness is not action. It’s a step toward action but is not itself a useful action. Crying, “The house is on fire!” is necessary but if it doesn’t prompt a call to the fire department it is useless.

When I asked the question on my saturday-morning-smack-dab post I did not have a clear set of answers. I know the first action-set has to protect our elections since the current occupant of the white house has been manufacturing crises since day one so he might circumvent congress. His authoritarian power grab is nearly complete. All that remains is to rig or stop our next election. His party is already erecting voting barriers to women and people of color.

I want to be inundated with posts from democratic leaders detailing potent action rather than shared-awareness-alarms.

I do not have answers. I have ideas. Lots of ideas. I’d welcome conversations about doing that arrive at specific actions aimed at specific targets. I’d cheer if our democratic leaders went on offense rather than perpetually playing defense, reacting and responding. Stop telling me the house is on fire. I already know. Take the ball back. What’s in the playbook?

The morning glories are out. They line sections of the trail. They have a very short blooming season and so have come to represent transience. They caught my attention as we walked and I pondered my question about effective action. Because the morning glory grows in complex environments, the flower has also come to represent the overcoming of adversity and renewal. Our democracy need not be fleeting.

I realized the morning glory is the perfect symbol for my meditation/question. Don’t take this – our democracy – for granted. It will die. Renewal is our job. We live in a time that our job requires immediate action, targeted action meant to overcome authoritarian/republican adversity.

The house is on fire. We already know it. We can stand by and tell each other about the heat of the flames or we can get busy working together to douse the flame.

read Kerri’s blogpost about MORNING GLORY

www.kerridanddavid.com

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Bolt! [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on July 9, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

“The caterpillar ate the dill,” she said. I laughed. It sounded like the first line in a children’s book. “No matter,” she said as she watched the caterpillar munching, “With all this rain and heat the dill has already bolted.” I raised my eyebrows. Not being up on my garden lingo, “the dill bolted” also sounded like the first line in a children’s book: the dill sprinted from the garden bench!

I thought but did not say: “I’d bolt from the room, too, if I discovered a caterpillar was gnawing on me.” Kerri puts up with enough of my random-mind-wander as it is. I’ve learned to keep some of it to myself.

Though, in my silence, I wished I’d had a pencil and paper to jot down the ideas but my hands were covered in mud. With the recent heat and rain, the weeds were eating the yard (I know! I know! Another great first line for a children’s book!) and I was waging a fruitless campaign to hold back the onslaught. No matter. Ideas come and go. I’ve let plenty of good ideas – and bad ones, too – slip by unrecorded. My muddy hands probably saved me from myself.

It’s worth mentioning that one of the many definitions of “bolt” is to “eat quickly.” To gobble or gulp. Watching the caterpillar eat I think it’s fair to suggest that it was bolting. Essentially the caterpillar and the dill both bolted and neither of them left the yard. It was a reminder to never assume to understand a single word someone else utters. Kerri might have meant that the dill was gulping rather than what I presupposed, that the dill was now dormant. I confess to looking up from my weeding to make sure that the dill was still in the pot and that the pot was on the bench.

Someday soon the bolting caterpillar will possibly fly through the yard as a Black Swallowtail butterfly. It quite literally will have bolted from one way of being into another way of being. Do not assume that you know what I mean. After all, I used the word “bolt” with clear intent to scramble the possibilities.

On the day we see the butterfly I will say to Kerri, “Hey! Look at what your dill produced!” She will give me “that” look and I will, of course, have no alternative but to make-like-dill and bolt.

read Kerri’s blogpost about CATERPILLARS

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