After All, Capable [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Like many of the seemingly random pieces in our home, this wood garland carries a story. It is imbued with specific memories that invoke hope and belonging. This garland lifts our spirits.

A few nights ago, when sleep evaded me, having recently exhausted all of the hikers we follow, I stumbled upon someone new. I thought I was about to watch a documentary about a hiker’s journey on a long trail. Instead, I found the story of a man who perseveres. Twenty years ago he was diagnosed with an aggressive terminal cancer and given only a short time to live. His story is an unintentional wake-up call. He reminded me to check my attachments to the transitory.

Recognizing how uplifted I felt after watching the documentary was also a wake-up call, a lesson I learn again and again. I regularly fill myself up with the news of the day and it is, as you know, toxic. It’s like eating too much candy. There’s no spirit-nutritional-value and it always comes with a downer-crash. I decided I need a more balanced diet if I expected myself to be mentally, emotionally, and spiritually healthy.

During the power outage I revived a practice from my boyhood. I thought it would disappear after the lights and heat came back but I’ve continued it because it makes me feel good. I am drawing pictures from books. I sit at the little table beneath the hanging wood garland with my sketchbook and a large coffee table tome from The Metropolitan Museum of Art: Thirty Centuries of the Art of Mexico. Right now my sketches are pre-Columbian. Funerary figures and stone reliefs. It is not an accident that I sit beneath the garland. Occasionally I put down my pencils and examine the curious pieces of driftwood stacked and strung together. It reminds me, just as the art in the book, that people are dedicated to making beauty. People are dedicated to connecting to life-beyond-boundaries and they do it as they have always done it by carving figures imbued with magical powers meant to guard the passage of their loved ones through death – or by stringing together bits of driftwood found on a special beach.

People are more capable of invoking hope and belonging than hatred and division. We are not only capable, it is a necessity, an essential, like food and shelter. We can live without hatred but we cannot live without hope.

We are, after all, capable of supporting each other, of recognizing how impossible and precious are these few moments of life we share together. We are capable in dark times of standing in beauty and instilling hope, we are capable of simple-daily-generosity intended to lift each others’ spirits.

HOLDING ON/LETTING GO on the album RIGHT NOW © 2010 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE GARLAND

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Less Than Exceptional [David’s blog on KS Friday]

“I’d rather be a dog, and bay the moon, than such a Roman.” ~ William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar

It’s not that I don’t appreciate Senator Tom Tillis’ take down of DHS Secretary Kristi Noem. She certainly deserves all the derision that comes her way. I found his comments to be the height of irony, rebuking Noem for her poor leadership while he and the entire republican congress have been the poster-children for excessively subpar leadership. They have been silent, abdicating their duty and oath to uphold the Constitution, enabling the takedown of our democracy and running cover for the Epstein Class. Tillis only found his voice and his courage after he announced his retirement. It’s easy to feign indignation once you are out of the game. He, along with every member of his party, deserves the same humiliation.

This is the comment that rankled me: “We’re an exceptional nation. And one of the reasons we’re exceptional is we expect exceptional leadership.”

Where-oh-where is the exceptional leadership in the republican congress? Had Tom Tillis aimed his comments at himself and his republican peers while DOGE was wreaking havoc on our government or while his party was abdicating all responsibility for tariffs we might find his comment meaningful. I particularly find his expectation of exceptional leadership to ring hollow while the president and his party continue to provide cover for an international ring of pedophiles or go to war without congressional approval or profit billionaires at the expense of the poor or unleash a gestapo on our streets or undermine elections or…

The entire cabinet is less than exceptional. The AWOL republican members of congress are weak. Remarkably unexceptional. As a co-equal branch of government they have proven to be dismal.

We-the-people do, in fact, expect exceptional leadership and are dumbfounded by what we see. Waiting to speak your truth until you no longer have skin in the game is less than exceptional. It’s the opposite of leadership. It’s cowardice.

“It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt” ~ Mark Twain

FIGURE IT OUT on the album RIGHT NOW © 2010 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE MOON

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Come In Empty [David’s blog on KS Friday]

“In emptiness alone can there be creation.” ~ Krishnamurti

Horatio reminded me of a fundamental lesson in actor training: come in empty.

The great actor/director James Edmondson once told me that the art of acting is the art of presence. What is presence if not full availability, without need to achieve or to force action or to manipulate anything? Stand empty in a moment, open to all possibilities.

Saul the tai-chi master taught his students to look beyond the “obstacle” and place their eyes in the field of all possibilities. No resistance. No story. No need. More than once he said to me, “Let the energy move you.” Don’t fight. Don’t push. Relax. Empty.

We are cleaning out our home, emptying closets and shelves, and have more than once affirmed to each other that we are opening space to “allow the new to come in”.

Our candlelight walk through the woods was transformative. I stepped onto the path with a very busy, very distressed mind. As we walked my anxiety slipped away. The stars became more important than the thoughts raging in my mind. I quieted. We quieted. The woods came alive – or we – I – came alive in the woods. When I stepped onto the path I was tired. As we completed our second loop, leaving the path, I felt rejuvenated. Enlivened. Empty mind.

As we came around the corner of the Pringle Center on our way back to the car, a row of pine trees caught us. They were glowing. The light cast from the center combined with a crystal clear night made them shimmer. They beckoned. Kerri took their portrait saying, “Photographs can’t capture the light. They don’t do them justice.” She put away the camera and we stood for a moment agog at the glow, enthralled by what we’d passed-by merely an hour before, unnoticed.

Awe. Ever present and available when coming in empty.

HOPE on the album THIS SEASON © 1998 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE TREES

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Making and Unmaking [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Barney-the-backyard-piano is disintegrating. His shiny facade has long since faded and now peels away, revealing the underlying layers. Those, too, are fragmenting. The textures of a lifetime exposed and made beautiful in contrast. The story of his making fully revealed in his unmaking.

We spread birdseed on Barney’s lid so he plays host to the black-capped chickadees and cardinals. The squirrels sun themselves on his disintegrating keyboard. His keys are almost unrecognizable, a comment my grandmother once made about her hands. “Almost unrecognizable,” she said and laughed, holding her hands to the light. She marveled at her translucence.

On a rare day of warmth, we sat in front of Barney in black plastic Adirondack chairs soaking in the winter sun. Dogga circled the yard barking at the gusts of wind. “This will carry us a long way,” I said, feeling the warmth reach all the way to my bones. She nodded. There is certainly more winter to come.

I closed my eyes and was suddenly lost in thought about the tears-in the-rain monologue: “I’ve seen things you people wouldn’t believe…All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain.” Someday I will hold my hand up to the light and marvel at the story of my making revealed in my unmaking.

PEACE on the album AS IT IS © 2004 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about BARNEY

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Two Sacred Objects [David’s blog on KS Friday]

There are two sacred objects in the life of Dogga: snowman and candy cane. Both are cheap plastic squeaky toys that he carries from place to place, repositioning them throughout the day. His ultimate safe spot, the most sacred space for his most sacred objects, is in Kerri’s studio, either beneath or positioned close to her piano.

I believe her studio has become his sacred place because it is her sacred place. Her piano is her most sacred object. When she enters the room and plays he always joins her. He walks loops beneath the piano. The Dog Whisperer says that dogs are human-energy-readers and I think it is true. Kerri’s aura changes when she plays her piano. When she plays her energy brightens; it becomes pure. Dogga senses that. He sees it. Is it any wonder that he would bring his sacred objects into this sacred place?

Yesterday she sat down to play. I heard the clackety-clack of Dogga’s nails on the wooden floor as he scooped up his snowman and headed for the studio. I stopped what I was doing and literally absorbed the profound beauty of the moment. A pure moment. Two sacred objects, piano and snowman, brought together by the love shared between two sacred beings.

LEGACY on the album RELEASED FROM THE HEART © 1995 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about PIANO AND SNOWMAN

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A Greater Truth [David’s blog on KS Friday]

“Politics is downstream of culture.” ~ Brian Tyler Cohen

Societies disappear but their art remains. The art serves to carry forward through time the essence, the beliefs, the customs, the inner space and outer limits of a culture. Culture is a force greater than politics. Artists carry in their work the flame of culture; they serve a greater truth. The same cannot be said of politicians or captains of industry.

Like it or not, the artists at the Grammy awards spoke directly to the current horrors of our politics. They know the reach and power of their words and their artistry to inspire action. Bruce Springsteen’s song, The Streets of Minneapolis has become an anthem celebrating the courageous people who refuse to hide from the bully. It is a call to the essence of the American spirit while also calling out the lies of division and brutality of ICE and those who’ve created this mindless monster.

On the National Mall a sculpture appeared of the authoritarian-wannabe holding hands with Epstein. It’s entitled “Best Friends Forever”. A second installation, a ten foot replica of The Wannabe’s Birthday Card to Epstein, has shown up. The work of Banksy and those who emulate him are showing up on walls all across the world. A picture is worth a thousand words.

Anselm Kiefer, among the greatest visual artists of our times, has spent his life working “…themes of German history and the horrors of the Holocaust”. His work speaks directly to the fascist moment we now face in the USA.

Art inspires action because it reaches beyond words to touch souls. It simplifies the complex. It clarifies the chaos.

To say we live in complex times is an understatement. An old world order is collapsing. The gap between the haves and the have-nots is ever-widening, our politicians sell our future to the corporate dollar and create oligarchs, who, in turn, would have us believe that the people are incapable of governing themselves.

In our lifetime there has never been a greater need for the artist’s voice. We are daily served an avalanche of lies meant to keep us confused and off-center. Consider this: every person on the streets blowing a whistle or recording the brutality of ICE is an artist. They are calling our attention to the truth. They actively pierce the ugly rhetoric to expose the stark reality. They challenge the lies. They support us in knowing with absolute clarity who we are so that we might come together as a community and say to this administration, “You do not represent us. We are better than this.”

To all the republican politicians out there: be certain that culture is coming for you.

YOU MAKE A DIFFERENCE © 2003 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpsot about ARTISTS

Marc Chagall ‘America Windows’ www.kerrianddavid.com

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The Source [David’s blog on KS Friday]

A meme flew by. It used the events of last Saturday to illuminate two different ideas of masculinity. The first as demonstrated by Alex Pretti, a man trying to help a woman who was just shoved to the ground. He stood between the woman and her attacker. The second model of masculinity was demonstrated by the ICE-men who tackled, beat and murdered Alex Pretti.

After the meme flew by I wished that I could amend it. For me it did not illuminate two models of masculinity, rather, it made a clear distinction between a man and a beast, between a healthy human being and a rabid animal. It highlighted the difference between a good intention and a toxic drive.

Most hearts in the nation are heavy. Witnessing yet another execution in the streets by agents of the government – and then defended by the leaders all the way up to and including the authoritarian wannabe in the White House – has left us aghast. John Pavlovitz suggested that our heavy hearts are necessary; they are a sure sign of our humanity. They are fuel for our outrage.

Alex Pretti’s heavy heart required him to step into the streets of his city and video the brutality enacted upon his neighbors. Renee Good’s heavy heart did the same. Service to others is often an action inspired by a heavy heart. It takes a great deal of courage to stand between a masked thug and his victim. It takes great strength to video the abuse as if to say, “We see you and you will not get away with this”.

I opened The Marginalian this morning and read this: “Here is the mathematical logic of the spirit: If love is the quality of attention we pay something other than ourselves and hate is the veil of not understanding ourselves, then loving the world more — the other word for which is kindness — is largely a matter of deepening our awareness and sharpening our attention on both sides of the skin that membranes the self.”

Love is the quality of attention we pay something other than ourselves. Hate is the veil of not understanding ourselves. Hate is self-focused. Love is other-focused.

Democracy is by definition other-focused. Authoritarianism is by definition self-focused.

Our heavy hearts are propelling us into the streets. It just might be that our heavy hearts will be the necessary ingredient that saves our democracy from the rabid authoritarians. It just might be that our heavy hearts will propel us to stand between the self-centered oligarchy currently shoving Lady Liberty to the ground. Our heavy hearts do not make us weak. They are the source of our outrage and fuel for our courage.

WATERSHED on the album AS IT IS © 2004 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE HEART

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Who Is Watching Whom? [Kerri’s blog on KS Friday]

To begin, let’s start with the term “Ant Farm”. It’s otherwise known as a formicarium, a container habitat that “approximates” a natural environment. It’s made of clear plastic or glass allowing us to watch the behavior of the ants, the social hierarchies, physical structures (like tunneling and chamber making), dynamics with the queen, the life cycles of the ant colony.

I wonder if the ants know that their farm is the approximation of a natural environment or if they carry on as they would in any old environment without witnesses and walls? Are we watching the ant adaptation to a thin-world-construct? Are we watching an ant performance?

I imagine we place ourselves much higher on the critter hierarchy pyramid than the ants. It brings to mind a quote from E.O. Wilson, a brilliant man who studied ants: “If all mankind were to disappear, the world would regenerate back to the rich state of equilibrium that existed ten thousand years ago. If insects were to vanish, the environment would collapse into chaos.”

We are unique in our hubris. We are startling in our blindness.

These days it makes me wonder what larger consciousness plays witness to our behavior in our approximation of a natural environment. Doesn’t it sometimes feel like we are in a the subjects of an experiment? How many freedoms will we surrender, how many horrors will we tolerate before we challenge the unnatural delusion of supremacy? Would we rather erase ourselves than to recognize our natural interdependence? In the past 75 years in our ant farm, in an evolutionary step in consciousness, we’ve acknowledged our need for each other and created societal structures like NATO.

250 years ago an evolutionary idea took one giant step forward. It is called democracy in diversity, a society – an ideal – where the many participate together as one.

Will we step backwards into the fallacy of supremacy and collapse our farm? Will we thump our chests and erase ourselves? Or will we root out the diseased minds and delusional leaders, dismantle the false hierarchy and recognize our utter need for each other and our interdependence with our environment?

Who is watching whom?

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE ANT FARM


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Push A Limit [David’s blog on KS Friday]

In one of the more absurd chapters of my life I was awarded a full-ride scholarship to a graduate program in costuming. As an undergraduate student in the theatre with a focus on acting and directing I’d spent a goodly amount of time in costume shops, sewing buttons, repairing shoes, badly hemming pants. It is fair to say that anything that involves fabric makes little to no sense to me. Many dear and patient costumers kept me busy during my required costume hours with tasks that I could not bungle. They found my level of competence (very low) and helped me succeed there.

My capacity to draw opened the door of costume absurdity. While interning at The Walden Theatre in Louisville, Kentucky, the director cast me as Oberon in a production of A Mid Summer Night’s Dream. She also asked me to design the costumes. She’d seen my drawings. I was delighted and drew characters with absolutely no idea whether or not my drawings could be translated into actual garments that people could wear. The very gifted head of the costume shop recognized my vast limitations and gently helped me make fabric decisions. I learned the art of the question from her. She knew what was best – and I knew nothing at all – so her questions were precise with the correct answer baked into the framing of the question.

One day a man came to audition actors for a graduate program. The audition room was lined with my costume designs. After the auditions he found me and asked me to interview with the tech faculty of the university. It was a crazy idea, a wild hare, but I did it anyway. At the time my ship had no rudder and there was nothing on my horizon following my internship. Plus, I believed there was no way, given my very very low costume competence, that they’d offer me a spot. But they did. And I accepted.

When Kerri resurrected her box of clothes-patterns it surfaced my long forgotten time in graduate school as a costume designer. I could draw and design everything. I couldn’t construct anything. More than once I reduced my professors to tears of laughing-disbelief at my attempts to sew. More than once I stopped them in their tracks with my capacity to imagine and paint. I began that year believing I was on the wrong path – I knew I was never going to be a costume designer – and I ended the year having learned that there is no such thing as a wrong path. Those good people, the incredible artists that surrounded me each day, helped me see and embrace my gifts. They helped me laugh at my foibles. They helped me understand the great creative power – and necessity – of pushing on a limit and stepping into an unknown. They helped me find my way.

LEGACY on the album RELEASED FROM THE HEART © 1995 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE PATTERNS

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Hold Up The Light [David’s blog on KS Friday]

about this week: there is a peril, it seems, to writing ahead these days. we had decided that this week – the first full week of a new year – we wished to use images of light as our prompts, we wished to linger on the possibility of light, of hope, of goodness. though our blogposts might stray from that as we pen them, it was without constant nod to the constant updating of current events – a mass of indefensible, unconscionable acts. we pondered what to do about these blogposts we had written and decided to keep them. we hope that – whether or not any absence of the happenings of the day, whether or not the chance these written words seem somewhat inane at this moment – you might know that those events – of corruption, illegality, immorality, and now murder – do not distill or distort our intention – to bring light and hope to this new year – the first days of which bring more insanity and unnerving instability. we are still holding space for light.

I learned something new about the Statue of Liberty. There are broken chains and shackles at her feet. “Sculptor Frédéric-Auguste Bartholdi incorporated these elements to represent liberty breaking free from servitude, a powerful message about emancipation.”  (Statue of Liberty/Ellis Island Foundation) The name of the statue standing in NY Harbor is “Liberty Enlightening the World”.

We are witness to what happens when a nation, when a people, grow so accustomed to their symbols that they forget – or take for granted – their meaning. It’s times like these that the symbol is either reinvigorated or emptied.

Especially during the dark winter months, we light candles every evening. They are comforting, calming. If you asked me what they symbolize to me I’d answer, “Hope”. I used to meditate every day and I’d begin my meditation with lighting a candle: a beacon for concentration and connection. Peace. We light candles on days that significant people in our lives have passed. The flame is a call to memory, to gratitude and, again, connection.

Light that calls to us to peace. Light that evokes hope within us. Light that encourages us and connects us. Light that guides us home.

In the past I kept a candle burning in my studio while I was working. It was a companion or perhaps a signal to the muse that I was ready. Now I have a salt lamp that serves the same purpose.

Lady Liberty holds a torch. She has broken chains and shackles at her feet. Truly, it’s times like these that our symbol is either reinvigorated or reversed, made to mean the exact opposite of what it originally represented. Will it serve to evoke in us a call to create/defend freedom and justice for all or will we turn our backs on our symbol and allow it to descend into a curiosity, a bit of bygone americana. In this historical moment we have the choice of embodying the symbol as it was originally intended, holding up the light of liberty to guide ourselves through this dark night – or to flip it over, plunge the torch into the harbor and step willingly into the shackles of authoritarianism.

[I wrote this on the morning that the current occupant of the white house, without participation or knowledge of Congress, invaded Venezuela, a resource grab not unlike Putin’s unlawful invasion of Ukraine. I’m editing this on the morning after an ICE agent murdered Renee Good in Minneapolis. It seems we have arrived at our moment of choice: to fully embody our symbols and defend our dedication to freedom and justice for all – or not. This is not an abstraction. It is not hyperbole. It is immediate.]

HOPE on the album THIS SEASON © 2005 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE CANDLE

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