Expect The Meadow [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on September 13, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

I was a doubter. Over the winter, heavy machinery eradicated invasive species – and seemingly everything else – from the forests and meadows of our beloved trail. It left a wasteland of splintered wood and debris. “It will take years to recover,” I mumbled, saddened.

I was wrong. With spring, new green shoots poked through the mud and detritus. The frog chorus returned with a vengeance to a marsh that just weeks prior had been little more than a scar. Slowly through the summer, the mayapple and coneflowers flourished.

And then there’s the meadow. In the waning weeks of August and the coming of September it has burst with yellows, purples and subtle blues. “Unbelievable,” I utter each time we pass through. Were I a plein air painter of landscapes, I’d spend many days seated on the trail, peering beyond my canvas, dabbing paint in an attempt to capture the riot of color.

The meadow is now my go-to metaphor for the power of renewal. In just a few short months, what seemed like utter devastation has revealed unstoppable regeneration. The wisdom of necessary disruption as seen in nature.

It gives me hope as we stand in the debris of our current wasteland. Just beneath the scorched earth of our circumstance, a vibrant meadow is preparing to burst forth. In a few short months, from this eradication, this intensive stripping of our invasive species, new color and life will bloom. And I will be most happy to utter, “Unbelievable,” in the face of my doubt and share with you the tale of our extraordinary rejuvenation.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE MEADOW

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Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Gratitude, Identity, Metaphor | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Be Unbearably Small [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on September 5, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

“We fought so long against small things that we became small ourselves.” Eugene O’Neill

“On my last day of work, the back wheels of my car won’t be out of the parking lot before they erase everything I’ve worked for,” Tom said. He was right, of course. I was there and witnessed the dismantling. His words were not resentful. They were matter-of-fact. He helped me understand that a life’s work is not about achievement. Rather, it is about integrity of process. Relationship. Bringing instead of getting.

“I’ve fought my battles. It’s time for someone younger to pick up the fight,” another in my tribe of dear-wise-guides reminded me when I was pushing him hard to care. I am a few years down the road now and I understand to my bones his position. I have limited time here. I have (mostly) turned my eyes away from the fight and toward the wonder-of-it all. I have no idea how to paint it so I am reticent to touch my brushes. How do you contain – or try to contain in an image or word – the inexplicable? It’s the artist’s dilemma and I love it.

Sitting on the back deck staring into the pastel sky, I thought about their words. Quiet summer nights are prime for reminiscence and reflection. I thought about the battles I have fought in my life. The hills I chose to die on. The art meant to heal or change or provoke. To reach and touch a heart. To shake a sleeper awake.

I have been fortunate to have had such wise guides showing me the way. To give me the rare gift of perspective. I am fortunate to understand how unbearably small I am in this limitless universe. Were I to believe myself grand I would not have access to the awe of this summer night, this rolling pastel sky.

read Kerri’s blogpost about the PASTEL SKY

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*happy birthday, columbus.

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Clear Your Mind [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on September 4, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

There’s nothing like a walk in a garden to clear your mind. It was the end of the week – or was it the beginning? In any case, our brains were overloaded. We sought a garden.

So the story goes, Adam and Eve lost their spot in the garden. They ate from the tree of knowledge and started to think about things. They became self-aware, a by-product of apple-eating, they had to tell stories of where they’d come from. They had to tell aspirational stories of where they wanted to go. They made rules. Look back. Imagine forward. Neither direction is true in the absolute sense of the word. Memory and imagination are not fixed. They are fluid, changing, like a stream.

Listening to our stories it’s easy to conclude that this good earth couldn’t possibly manage without us. As global weirding progresses, it’s likely that we’ll learn the opposite of our control-story is the case: we can’t possibly manage without the good earth. We may have to adapt our narrative! We may have to consider that the garden and its many inhabitants didn’t really need names; we invented knowledge-management to suit our purposes. We might need to recognize that we invented all forms of management to suit our narrative.

We like to tell stories of being in control, of being at the top of the pyramid. We especially like narratives placing us at the center of the universe – and the micro level variety: being the chosen ones. Believing that it all spins around us is, well, comforting. Or hubris. Or both.

Of course, our story is pocked with kill-joys like Galileo. Though, to be fair, even though his telescope proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that humanity is NOT at the center, it’s had very little impact on our dedication to being all important. Above it all. We are a tenacious bunch when our story of primacy is threatened.

I was especially moved by the sign in the garden and wondered what it would take for us to turn the tables and imagine ourselves as part of the spinning universe rather than above-it-all. There are plenty of examples to draw from, humans in symbiotic relationship with their garden. Listening rather than instructing. Spinning with.

I think that is why, when our brains are overloaded, we head to the garden. A return to our senses. We breathe. We listen. We feel. We clear our minds and, even for a moment, re-enter a naturally healthy relationship.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS

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Be An Alien [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on August 29, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

“We are in an alien world…” he wrote, “and it is unraveling.” Somedays I wonder if I went to sleep and woke up in a tragicomedy. I wanted to reply that I feel more and more like an alien moving through an increasingly unrecognizable world. Well, truth be told, I’ve always felt like an alien. The rules of the game make no sense to me. For instance, if safe supportive society is what we seek, why are we arming ourselves to the teeth? I imagine I am not alone in my alien-feeling.

Walking the trail Kerri stopped and pointed. “Doesn’t that flower look like a spaceship?” Yellow petals stretched-like-wings in every direction. “Imagine the cool aliens!” she said, kneeling to take a photo.

The word “alien” brought to mind the recent congressional hearings on UFO’s (or UAPS: unidentified aerial phenomena). The hearings were a discussion about what we know. “No, really,” asked the panel, “What do we know?” It’s not known what we know or it’s known but concealed to the point of being unknown. The unknown is what makes an alien an alien, so, apparently, we’ll remain aliens to each other in the foreseeable future.

I had a jolting revelation yesterday. Kerri and I watch vlogs of PCT through-hikers. People who walk 2650 miles from Mexico to Canada. Thousands of people start the trail each year and only a small percentage actually finish. It seems a herculean task. They have tents, travel stoves, proper shoes, all-weather clothes, resupply stops, rest days and are well-funded. They speak lovingly of the kindness of strangers on the trail. In contrast, a hungry person leaving the Honduras walks approximately 2,558 miles, often with few or no resources, through dangerous and hostile environments, to reach the border of the mythical United States. Rather than celebrating their spirit, their fortitude and perseverance, qualities to be admired, qualities we celebrate as uniquely American, we vilify these people, calling them “aliens.” They do not tell stories of the kindness of strangers.

If you boil down the storyline of most apocalyptic-alien-invasion films, you’ll find the same inspiring moment. Humanity turns from its division and finally recognizes that ultimate survival necessitates combining forces, acting as one. Identifying as one. Transcending superficial differences and abstract lines on a map, redefining “us” to include “all human beings.”

He concluded his email with this: “I’m waiting for the crisis to finally arrive and further devastate us.  At least then we can get to the Awakening phase during which we will come together and reunite as humankind.”  He’s referring to the book The Fourth Turning. The cyclical pattern of chaos and order.

The question that identifies me more and more as an alien is this: why does it take a crisis? I know, I know…the rules of the game make no sense to me. And, after all, nature uses forest fires for renewal. I know, I know. Yet, why point a gun when extending a hand actually produces the safety and security we ultimately seek? Reaching creates kind humans; pointing a gun creates unkind humans. What am I missing? We always pull together in a crisis – it’s our natural impulse – so why wait for a crisis?

We are strange beings. Our stories are universally driven by conflict. Unknown to each other, we opt to be frightened of what we don’t understand (or refuse to consider). I’ve read that we are hardwired and dedicated to an Us-and-Them world.

I’ve also read that the purpose of our big-big brains is to transcend our animal nature so I’m confident that, one day, in the far distant future, our big-big brains will respond to the latest crisis and transcend our ancient hardwiring.

read Kerri’s blogpost about ALIEN FLOWER

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Arrive At Wisdom [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on August 24, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

The meeting of sand and surf. In the children’s-book-of-my-mind, at the beginning of the story, sand and surf have completely different points of view. They have radically different understandings of each other and opposing orientations to ebb-and-flow, to the movement of the earth and their place in it. They insist that they are in conflict.

And yet, they meet. Every day. In the story of sand and surf they eventually learn that they can focus on their differences or they can focus on what they have in common. They are surprised to learn that one could not know itself without the other. They are gobsmacked by the knowledge that one would have no purpose without the other! In fact, they would have no identity without the other!

With their new understanding, sand and surf begin to ask a different question: who do they want to be together.

At the end of the story, the climax of this children’s tale, they come to understand that their reason-for-being is each other. They are not, in fact, separate. They are symbiotic. They transform each other in their mutual dance. Thus, they arrive at wisdom.

Sand and surf. Harmony, in the children’s-book-of-my-mind. Nothing really changes other than their choice of where to focus. And then, of course, everything changes.

my favorite illustration from Lucy And The Waterfox

Peri Winkle Rabbit Is Lost. A book I wrote and illustrated for a hurricane Katrina relief project. The organizers asked for an original story to help children understand and cope with loss. Original illustrations, no copies. I loved making this little book and i hope some child, somewhere, now an adult, loves it, too.

My gallery site

read Kerri’s blog post about SAND AND SURF

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Filed under: Art, Creativity, DR Thursday, Edges, Identity, Metaphor, Story | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments »

Look Beneath The Brag [on DR Thursday]

Posted on August 17, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

“If I don’t brag I can’t complain,” she said, eyes sparkling. I howled with laughter. Wisdom from a soon-to-be 101 year old.

There’s nothing like a long life to strip the paint off an ego.

Her wisdom launched me into a thought-jag and made me wonder what a little time and maturity might bring to our yammering social media streams. Of LinkedIn a colleague recently said, “Everyone is selling. No one is buying.” Lots of bragging balanced by lots of complaining. Although it is moving fast, social media is still very, very young. A raucous kindergarten class. Me. Me. Me!

Kerri and I are not above it, of course. We are knee-deep in it. Each day we bemoan, “Oh, if only our readers would like or share our posts or music or cartoon or paintings…” The algorithm of “like” makes braggers and beggars of us all. It’s the road to increased attention which transmogrifies into words like “influencer” which promises dollars (with or without sense). (sorry. i couldn’t help myself;-) We don’t really want to be influencers but we do really want our work to support us – just like everyone else – so, a conundrum. In current reality, a full spectrum of bragging and complaining marks the road to increased notice.

Marshall McLuhan famously said, “The medium is the message.” Said another way, “…the content of any medium blinds us to the character of the medium.” Content need not have substance in a fast moving medium creating so many squeaky wheels seeking grease. Character (noun): mental and moral qualities… Through our current medium it is necessary to scream loud. No substance or moral quality is required to garner attention since garnering attention is the end-goal. Complain! Brag! Bang pots! Cry wolf! Blow whistles! Break news! Spread conspiracy! Lie loudly… Thumbs up. Angry face. Heart.

It brought again to my mind the question Susan asked last week, “When did kindness leave…” What I wish I’d said is, “It’s still there, it’s just runs deep beneath the noise.” Kindness has no need to compete with complaint for attention.

“How did it get to be the middle of August already?” Kerri asked, focusing her camera on the fading coneflowers. The day was hot. We were overwhelmed by our tasks so took a break and went for a walk.

“I don’t know,” I replied, trying to remember all that happened in June and July. There were so many life altering events for our friends and family. With no air in our sail, becalmed, time has lost much of its meaning.

Kerri showed me her photo. “I think I’ll call this one Waning Summer.” For us, there’s nothing to brag about so there’s nothing to complain about. Thank goodness. We sit solidly in the middle of the spectrum, knowing somewhere, running deep beneath the noise and moving very slowly, like kindness, runs a mighty river of gratitude.

“It’s beautiful.” I said.

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chasing bubbles, 33.25 x 48IN mixed media © david robinson

visit my gallery site

read Kerri’s thoughts about END OF SEASON

Filed under: DR Thursday, Gratitude, Identity, Language, Metaphor | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Take Another Step [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on August 14, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

At the end of the Everest documentary, The Fatal Game, Mark Whetu says, “It’s not that you are alive for such a short period of time, it’s that you are dead for so long.” It’s a film about waking up on the other side of grief. It’s a film about choosing to live.

Grief is one of the many colors on life’s palette. Had I bothered to read the small print in my handbook-for-living I suspect I’d have found a surprising number of references to suffering, sorrow, loss and fear. Colors on the palette necessary for an open heart. Essential colors for the full experience of living in the small window of time called “life”.

Last week I threw up my hands and sat down in defeat. “Lots of energy out. Nothing back!” I pouted, “What’s the point?” My self-pity lasted for an hour and then I stood up, realizing there was nothing to be done but take another step. It simply doesn’t matter how old I am or what I’ve done or haven’t done. It doesn’t matter what title I staple on top of my identity or what story I tell myself. My circumstance simply does not matter. The task remains the same. This day, I reasoned, is just as vibrant either way so, rather than bury my head in darkness, I might as well breathe deeply and enjoy the sun on my face.

Sometimes the only point is to take another step.

I am – apparently – a non-stick learner. I learn lessons over and over again. I am particularly gifted at allowing life’s lessons to slide off. I have been known to teach that the actions we need to take are rarely difficult; the stories we wrap around the actions can make any step seem impossible. Dialing the phone is easy until the mind rages with the tale, “I don’t want to look stupid.”

Effortless action is a Buddhist concept. It is a practice of acting without story. Know your target. Act. Respond.

Send a resume. Write a cover letter. Submit. Take another step.

Mix the color. Choose the brush. Spatter. Take another step.

baby steps/right now © 2010 kerri sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes or streaming on Pandora and iHeart radio

read Kerri’s blogpost about ONE MORE STEP

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Filed under: Identity, Merely A Thought Monday, Possibility, Story | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments »

See A Gull [on KS Friday]

Posted on August 11, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

A Haiku

a scavenger bird.

opportunistic, seeker.

see! a gull am I!

The gulls congregate in the Kohls parking lot. We’re not sure why. It seems an unlikely spot for gulls to hang out. Hot pavement. No snacks. Cars coming and going. They camp en masse. Later in the day they exit in full voice and return to the marina. Make sense of that, I dare you!

Susan asked when caring-for-others left the building. I launched into a pedantic monologue that, even to me, sounded like the screech of a gull. Lots of noise, little helpful substance. Or, my diatribe mimicked the adults in a Charlie Brown special. Wah-wah, wah-wah. The sound of a preacher who thinks the path to deeper spirituality is through a map or a dry history lesson. A rule book. A witless shepherd caught lecturing the sheep. (baaaahhhhh)

I wondered what or who I might become if I dedicated myself to knowing nothing. What if I understood to my root that my opinion is just that…an opinion. Not a fact or a truth or blue-ribbon winner at the world-thought-fair. What if life needed no explanation?

What if there is no higher meaning to be found or greater mystery to be solved in the daily seagull pilgrimage to Kohls? What if, rather than seek a rationalization, I gave myself over to the wonder-of-it? What if Joseph Campbell had it right:

“People say that what we’re all seeking is a meaning for life. I don’t think that’s what we’re really seeking. I think that what we’re seeking is an experience of being alive…”

take flight/this part of the journey © 1998 kerri sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes or streaming on Pandora and iHeart Radio

read Kerri’s blogpost about SEAGULLS

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Filed under: Identity, KS Friday, Metaphor, Navel Gazing, Perspective | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Find The Hidden Message [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on August 1, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

This morning, while the storm raged outside, thunder and wind shaking the house and dumping buckets of rain, I worked on my website. More specifically, I added a visual resume to our melange site. It’s a map of an artist taking his artistry into the marble halls of organizations…

In the past six months I’ve had several resume reviews. Advice from experts. Suggestions from friends. Modification upon modification akin to rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. This mixmaster of my work history has had one incredible silver lining: I’ve had the opportunity to revisit every era of my career, the passions that drove my choices, the curiosity that necessitated stepping off the edge. In essence, so much thorough review and conversation has illuminated for me a through-line of my life-in-work.

My primary actions? I scatter ideas on the wind. Tom used to say, “You Johnny Appleseed-ed your way across the district.” I’m a consummate cross-pollinator: concepts from the stage introduced to the boardroom. And vice versa. But this most of all: I began this life with so little faith in myself that, over time, I became adept at guiding people to their self-belief; something I had to do for myself so I knew the path. I know the path well. It leads to center.

In the past I’ve been hyper-critical of my choices. They’ve often been less-than-lucrative, made from a different criteria – and have left me vulnerable. Now, from my view in the crows nest, looking back at where I’ve come from, I delight in my journey. To some it looks like the drunken path of a butterfly. To me it’s been a dedication to bringing my gift to the place where it was most needed. I followed the call. Every time. I continue to follow it. Following a calling rarely makes resume-sense.

Last week I wrote about sailing toward the horizon with the knowledge that your questions will only bring more questions, that masterpieces are made by sailing into unknown territory. And, if you are lucky, you’ll come to realize that what’s just over the horizon is more horizon. More curiosity. More experiences. More discoveries. More vital life.

This is the message hidden in my resume: I am unbelievably lucky.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THISTLE

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Emulate Martijn [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on July 31, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

I have a theory about why so many of us are addicted to Martijn Doolaard’s weekly installments. He’s rebuilding two stone structures, turning them into cabins, on a remote mountainside in the Italian alps. He confirmed my theory this week at the very end of installment 76. Responding to a question from his viewers he said something akin to “I focus on the process and not on goals.”

It’s magnetic. Presence.

Effortless action is a concept in the Buddhist tradition and Martijn is a stellar example. The work is heavy, dirty and sometimes impossible, yet he rarely seems stressed or burdened. He is never in a hurry. He is present in his task. He’s not pushing for an outcome or holding himself to a schedule. He’s creating a process that is as elegant as it is efficient, fully engaging the task at hand. He’s a craftsman from another era. No resistance to “what is”. Consequently, he achieves more in a week than most people realize in a month.

And, amidst the dawn to dusk workdays, he films the process. Beautifully.

His work is his meditation.

Watching him build a stone arch doorway for his utility shed, I had a minor revelation. Most, if not all, spiritual traditions embrace a version of “make no assumptions.” The absence of assumption is presence. The lilies of the field. The release of control. Flow. The path of least resistance. Deal with what is there, not what you think is there.

We watch Martijn because we desire to know what he knows. We desire to work as he works. Why is he never exhausted? How is it possible for him to bake bread over a fire, make beautiful meals, after a full day of digging in rocky soil and hauling impossibly large slabs of stone?

Whether the task is answering 150 emails or lifting a one ton stone from the roof of a shed, his answer is abundantly clear. Make no assumptions. Release the notion of where you should be and be where you are. Beautifully.

read Kerri’s blogpost about NO ASSUMPTIONS

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Filed under: Awakening, Identity, Merely A Thought Monday | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

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