Posted on November 14, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative
“But time has many dimensions and in the end, time opens to timelessness.” ~ Peter Brook, The Quality of Mercy
One day I realized that I was like a sand painting: a bit of unique beauty created in the moment and meant to blow away with the winds. That is not a despairing thought. In fact, it was quite the opposite.
Late at night we watched a short documentary about the scale of time. It was eye-opening. The filmmaker was so overcome with realization of time that his model revealed that be broke down and cried. We are but a blip, a blink of the eye. The enormity of life. The impossibility of life.
Those who wish to have monuments erected for themselves are missing the point entirely.
Barney, the piano in our backyard, is slowly, over time, returning to dust. That is also true of Kerri’s Yamaha piano in her studio, only a fraction slower. Breck the aspen tree that came home with us from Colorado in the back seat of our car is now taller than our garage. If typical, Breck will live approximately 200 years. Twice as long as me, though the measure of time, the comparison, is arbitrary at best.
Breck and I each have our one brief moment in the sun.
Posted on November 7, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative
“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” ~ Plato
We’ve planted tall grasses in both our front and back yards. This is our favorite time of year to watch the magic dance of the grasses. They put on their suits of warm autumn colors, yellow, orange and purple, and during golden hour, they literally glow while swaying in the breeze. It is sometimes shocking how beautiful they become in the golden hour.
I just learned that there are two meanings to the phrase “the golden hour.” The first refers to the quality of diffused warm light in the period shortly before sunset or just after sunrise. The second is new to me: “The term also has a separate, critical meaning in emergency medicine, referring to the first 60 minutes after a traumatic injury during which time is of the essence for surgical intervention.” (Wikipedia) The chances of survival are greater if treatment begins within the golden hour.
It was the phrase “willful ignorance” that stopped my scroll, landed me on Plato’s quote. It made me laugh. It is a phrase that, for me, now encapsulates the republican party, maga, and anyone who daily consumes fox news. It is one thing to be ignorant. It is another to choose ignorance. We are witness to the path of destruction wrought on our nation by people who are willfully ignorant, people who fear the light.
The results of the recent election read like both definitions of the golden hour. The injury to our nation has been substantial but our chances of survival just increased with a just-in-time intervention. And, what felt like a rapid descent into darkness just entered a golden hour. Time will tell if this period of warm, diffused light is a sunset or a new beginning: sunrise. My hope is for the latter, a new day guided by people who are not afraid and who welcome the light.
Posted on October 31, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative
“If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.” ~ Lao Tzu
After a long week of travel and a few days delay due to nasty weather, we took advantage of the first bit of sun and returned to our trail. It was as if an entire season had passed in our brief absence. So much life happened in such a small amount of time.
In truth, on the road home we discussed how it felt as if we’d been away for years. We felt as if we’d stepped into an alternative universe. Like a science fiction movie, it seemed that our rocket ship returned to earth and although we’d only aged a few days, the earth had aged a few hundred years. The world we knew no longer existed. It was a strange feeling to walk a trail we knew so well and yet it felt unknown.
It was, perhaps, more unsettling because that is how I feel about these un-United States these days. I walk through my days in places that I recognize and yet it is made strange by a congress that is effectively dissolved, the rapid destruction of the symbol we call The White House, a president blatantly and gleefully bilking the nation while building a Marie Antoinette ballroom while democracy crumbles, people starving, people being plucked off the street and disappeared for no other reason than their skin is brown, and the highest court in the land, rather than protecting the Constitution, betraying it, shoveling more power to the autocrat. We are no longer headed for a fascist state, we have arrived.
And I go to the grocery store as I always have. I rake the leaves that fell while we were gone. We make dinner each night. When the sun peeks from behind the clouds, we return to our trail and walk so we might feel a bit of normalcy.
But the feeling of normalcy is now our enemy. Human beings are excellent at adapting and even more skilled at denying; making the atrocious acceptable. Normalizing the outrageous is now the force we must resist. We have already gone too far in normalizing the monstrous, in accepting the incessant lies and petulant abuse of power – and willing abdication of responsibility in The House, the cowing of the once-free-press. We cannot allow the loathsome to become our new normal. We cannot become accustomed to oppression.
We can, however, recover the impulse that gave our nation its birth: we know how to rebel against a bully king doing the bidding of the morbidly wealthy. We know how to join with our neighbors and speak truth to power-run-amok. We know how to say to corrupt tyrants, “This will not stand.” We know how to set course toward a more perfect union, a nation where all people are created equal, respected, and protected equally under the law.
[Happy Halloween! I just had a conversation about costumes and what I would wear to be the most scary. My answer: a republican. What kind of monster takes away food assistance from the most needy to give more money to the already morbidly wealthy? And then lies about it. Scary.]
Posted on October 24, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative
I’ve decided that one of the many problems we face as a culture and as a nation is that we do not recognize our sacred moments. We generally miss the extraordinary because they often come dressed in ordinary clothes; we look for grand gestures, tablets from the mountaintop, or confuse the sacred with something more entertaining. We miss the moment when we participate in the sacred, moments like voting, moments like speaking freely. There are moments like helping a neighbor, working at a food bank, volunteering at a school. Making someone’s life better is sacred.
Sacred moments are often gritty or mundane. They are not always like watching the sunrise over the lake on an anniversary.
Sometimes sacred moments are spontaneous. In the wake of the storm we wandered down to the park adjacent to the harbor. She wanted me to see the gazebo where the bands play. It’s an intentional place, a beautiful structure meant to be a center where the community gathers. Climbing the steps to the rain-soaked deck, I saw the idea pop into her mind. She pulled out her phone, brought up a piece of music that is sacred to us, If Ever You Were Mine by Cherish The Ladies. We waltzed as we did ten years ago. Our dear Linda taught us to waltz to this piece of music, our first dance at our wedding reception. Sacred.
We danced. Kerri led – just as at our wedding – and we laughed and laughed. I do not hear the beat as well as my musician wife. For us – for me – dancing badly with her is sacred.
The people in the park taking a rainy night constitutional gave us a wide berth. They must have thought the couple waltzing in the gazebo must be crazy or a menace to the public. We waltzed and because once was not enough, we waltzed again.
That’s the misunderstood characteristic of the sacred: it need not be reserved for rare occasions; the sacred can be courted, woven into the the everyday, the ordinary: the sound of the chimes that Guy gifted to us, the song of the cardinal or the hummingbird at the feeder. Raking the leaves on a crisp autumn day. The smell of freshly ground coffee. Holding hands as we descend the steps of the gazebo, splashing in puddles, shaking the rain from our hair.
Posted on October 17, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative
She looks for hearts so, of course, she sees them everywhere. That is the way perception works. We have it backwards: we do not “believe it when we see it,” rather, “we see it because we believe it.” We see what we expect to find.
In these un-United States we are witness to the power of propaganda to shape belief. The Fox has millions believing that they are victims of a scary monster named Woke. They are steeped in the illusion of an imagined immigrant invasion. They are choking on the belief that our society is rotting from progress, under assault by the learned. None of these threats exist but that has no bearing on what the fox-mesmerized-audience perceives-and-believes. They look for boogeymen everywhere and, therefore, that is what they see. They see it because they believe it. No facts necessary. Reason cannot punch through the blindness of their hard faith. Heart is nowhere visible in their dark, mean-spirited perception.
Last night we made a pact with our pals. We vowed to slap each other awake if we grow rigid as we age. “I want to stay curious. I want to keep learning. There’s so much to learn.” Yes. And, again, yes.
I left our evening together so grateful for the people populating my life who are, like me – like us – dedicated to seeing miracles in the everyday. They look for possibility and, so, they find it. They are not afraid to challenge what they believe. They question. They step into the unknown. Their belief has not calcified, rather, it remains fluid and expansive. They grow. They check the veracity of what they are told. They do not seek to blame others for their obstacles. They seek the best in others and – you’ll not be surprised – they find it. That is the way perception works. That is the way a healthy society works.
Posted on October 10, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative
You might not believe it but it’s true. On the day we met – moments after we met – we spontaneously held hands and skipped – yes, skipped – out of O’Hare International airport, all the way to littlebabyscion in the parking garage. Our souls knew what our brains could not understand.
Little Miles calls us KERRIANDDAVID as if our names were one word. Through his child eyes he sees what our souls knew the day we skipped out of the airport. Two names, one word.
Ten years ago today we once again spontaneously held hands – and skipped out of the church. Our bodies finally caught up to what our souls already knew. Two are one. Naturally.
Posted on October 3, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative
Yesterday I painted the rail on the front porch. I sanded the small windows upstairs; they need repainting. One of the window sills in our bedroom has water damage. It is next on my list to fix before the snow returns.
I realized what I was doing; what we are doing. Since we cannot control or impact in any way the rapid destruction of our democracy – at the hands of those sworn to preserve it, no less – then I will do my best to attend to what I can control. I will be a good steward of our home. I will fix what I can.
She said, “We have to do something to pull our heads out of this madness. At least for a little while.” Yes. We bumped into them on our walk around the neighborhood, a couple who we admire. We shared our concerns and dismay. We have to do something to remind us of goodness, that people of good intention are all around, even when it feels hopeless. Our brief sidewalk chat gave us hope. We are not alone in our worry. We are not alone in our belief in goodness.
We harvested the last of the peppers. This summer our garden was prolific. The basil exploded. The tomato plant is still producing. The garden, the yard, the pond, the appearance of the frog…the exercise of intentionally coming into the moment, the place were common sense can be found when it is otherwise absent.
I had a revelation, the release of a judgment. David Neiwert told a story of the German people, living in villages just outside of the concentration camps, each morning sweeping the ash from their sidewalks and window sills. After the liberation the villagers claimed that they had no idea what was happening in the camps. How could they not know? Sweeping their steps, picking their peppers, painting the rail on their front porch…doing anything possible to pull their heads out of the madness.
This is not the time to look the other way. This is not the time to normalize the obscenity that is erasing our nation. People are already disappearing into camps. Due process and habeas corpus are gone. The Supremes ruled that racial profiling is lawful: it’s no different than sewing yellow stars on clothes. Now, we hear from the dictator wannabe that “the enemy is within”: the enemy is anyone who disagrees with the fascist fire raging across the nation. Anyone who protests or questions. My revelation? I do not want to someday sweep ash from my walk while telling myself that I have no idea what’s happening.
We know. So do the republicans.
This is not the time to normalize the obscenity. This is not the time to look the other way. It is the time for all people of goodness to join hands in the commons, to stand together, to call out the lies, to push our elected leaders to push back against this corruption, this out-of-control authoritarian regime.
It is the time, our time, to be good stewards of our nation-home.
Posted on September 26, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative
And just before the autumn equinox, the last day lily had her brilliant orange moment in the sun and then closed up shop for the winter. It was poignant. We watched her drink in the sun and then fold.
The nights grow longer than the day. The plumes on the grasses are radiant when they catch the evening light. The leaves on the pepper plant have yellowed. The sweet potato vine, once a vibrant uniform lime green, now displays a pattern of color, red-brown and crimson.
We’re emerging from a few weeks of sickness, a bad cold moved in and took much of the wind from our sails. Our limited energy allowed for a few shaky-leg slow walks by the lake. Slow walking allows for better seeing. I marvel at how unimportant most things become – how my perspective simplifies and clarifies when I have limited energy; when my body demands my attention. We sat in our adirondack chairs facing the sun. I felt like the day lily, drinking it in. The sun is good medicine.
Better seeing. Clarity.
I did not know that the word “winter” comes from an old Germanic word and means “time of water.” The snow, the ice, the freezing rain. We pull inside. We retreat to the root to recuperate and gather energy for renewal.
Each week Kerri chooses one of her compositions for our Friday posts. This week, in trying to decide between two pieces, she chose both: one piece from her first album, entitled In Transition, and one from her most recent album – her 15th – entitled Transience. I was moved when listening to the pieces side-by-side: the same theme separated by a decade and a half of life. Transitory life, cycles of production and retreat, generation and rest, exploring and recognizing.
Transitory life looks differently when you are older than it does when you are young.
We are having an extended conversation with our son about artistry. He is an EDM artist and is taking full possession of his gifts. It’s thrilling to watch him move from becoming to being. He is fully inhabiting a time of fire. He is running fast. Chasing.
We – Kerri and I – are fully in a time of water, from being to becoming. We are slow walking. Gathering energy. No longer trying to arrive in a life that is constantly moving. We are the dream we chase. Appreciating the transitory. Savoring our moment, this one glorious never-to-have-again day. We are like the last day lily drinking in the sun and storing that warm heart energy for the coming of spring.
Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora
Posted on September 19, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative
“Despair is a narcotic. It lulls the mind into indifference.” ~ Charlie Chaplin
It turns out that there are some things that are black or white. For instance, we either have free speech or we don’t. We either have the protections of due process and habeas corpus or we don’t. We either adhere to the Constitution or we don’t. We either have a free press or we don’t. We either champion the truth or we don’t.
We either have a democracy or we don’t.
Right now, in this moment, where all of the above are concerned, we don’t.
I’m still shaking my head at the 90 million voters who did not turn out to vote in the last election. Were they indifferent? There is certainly enough despair to go around given the sucking of wealth from the many into the hands of the few. We either exercise our power in democracy by voting or we don’t.
The system is either built for all of us or it is tilted toward the privileged few. And that seems to be the line of discord in our short history, the rope that we perpetually tug in our incessant internal war: who do we mean when we say, “We the people”? It either includes all of us in the promise or it doesn’t.
We either protect the dream or we don’t.
Lately, in a mass capitulation of courage by corporate America, the legal profession, universities…we’ve learned that despair is not the only narcotic that lulls the mind into indifference. Profit might be mightier than despair in producing indifference. We’re literally seeing our nation sell its soul. It’s become abundantly clear what is valued and what is not.
Democracy, for the morbidly wealthy, seems no match for private gain. It’s up to the rest of us to wake up, shake off indifference and loudly remind the gluttonous few that fascism has no place in a democratic republic, that our rights and protected freedoms are not for sale or to be used as leverage for the corporate merger.
We either protect the dream now or we lose it. We’re standing at the line. All of us. It makes no difference if you are on the blue team or the red. The orchestrated collapse of our democracy, the loss of protected freedoms, of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, the erasure of our nation of laws and not men…applies equally to all of us.
It turns out that somethings are not black or white, they are black and white.
Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora
Posted on September 12, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative
One of the first things Kerri gave me was a small silver acorn. I carry it in a pocket of my wallet. For her family it is a symbol of abundance and good fortune. I have grown to love the acorn bump that now defines my wallet. It is a constant reminder: I carry good fortune with me wherever I go.
This past week we’ve both had miserable colds. We do everything together. Except for our run-in with Covid last fall, it’s been years since either of us has been knocked out by any ailment, especially the common cold. Our timing is not ideal since the weather has been gorgeous. Fall has arrived, warm sun and cool shade are calling. Needing to get out of bed and out of the house, we drove to our loop trail. We walked slowly, moaning and groaning and laughing at our creaky progress – yet the warmth of the autumn sun penetrated all the way to our bones. Our walk was exhausting but it was good medicine.
As Kerri often does, she stopped abruptly, pulled out her camera, walked back a few steps and knelt on the trail. “What do you see?” I asked.
“An affirmation,” she said, showing me the photo of the acorn. “See? Good fortune.”
See good fortune. It’s been a recurring theme lately. See how we are supported. See the abundance of our lives.
It’s Viktor Frankel: bring rather than seek the meaning in your life. “I carry some serious good fortune in my wallet,” I said.
“I know,” she smiled. “And now look! We are finding some on our trail.”
The Direction of Intention 