Milestones and Munchos [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Just in case you thought we were a classy couple, this image ought to dispel you of any illusion and knock us off the swanky-pedestal. Munchos and red wine. A classic combination.

This is actually an image of a celebration. The purpose of the celebration must remain undisclosed for national security reasons but in case you scrutinized the photo and are alarmed at the obvious daylight – and are worried that we began our celebration before noon or even before breakfast, rest assured that spring is approaching, the days are getting longer: we tipped our glasses at a reasonably late hour. By any sensible measure we were solidly in the happy hour zone when the vino met the Munchos. Dogga will attest to our appropriate start time. He is also a fan of Munchos though remains a teetotaler.

Some of my favorite celebrations in life did not happen in upscale restaurants or with linen napkins. They did not cost an arm and a leg. I will forever cherish tater-tots for the memories they invoke. Remembrance of biscuits and gravy at 3am, the clinking of coffee cups is a treasure. A baguette and white wine by the fountain. The extraordinary in the ordinary. Celebration of life with what’s at hand.

We constantly remind ourselves in this time of the world-gone-mad, not to miss the moments of celebration, not to let the horror-of-the-moment blot out the warmth of the sun. Did you know that the name Chickadee is onomatopoetic? I did not. Chick-a-dee-dee-dee! We opened the door so we could better hear the Black-capped Chickadee serenade our celebration.

We achieved a milestone. It could not have been better commemorated than with birdsong, Dogga at our feet, while we crunched a salty snack (the entire bag weighing less than 4 ounces!) and toasted life with a glass of red wine.

***

Once again, a post written prior to the latest outrage and act of titanic corruption. A war of distraction. Or, follow the money. Either way it is indefensible and unconstitutional though, we (I) might as well admit that the republicans and maga-minded have no use for the constitution (or critical thinking) as they daily throw it away.

Still, our blog post sentiment remains true: do not miss the opportunities to celebrate what is good and right amidst our national suicide-by-stupidity.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE CELEBRATION

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Riddled With Choices [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“It’s everything behind you that brings you to what’s ahead.” ~ Visa advertisement

Once, long ago, a couple in The Netherlands offered to support me for a year so that I could paint without the pressures of making a living. They were artists, maintained a studio and were central to an active artists’ network. I’ve often wondered where my life would have taken me had I accepted their generous offer.

When Kerri and I met we talked about our “broken roads,” the life-choices that we’d made that actually – somehow – led us to meet. Every crossroad is riddled with choices. Some of the impacts of the choices-made are foreseeable. Most are not.

The road behind us, in these un-United States of America, is littered with the carnage of a tug-of-war between those who believe the words We The People are only meant for the privileged few and those who believe the words are all-inclusive. We have in our national broken road a Trail of Tears, generations of slavery, Jim Crow, women’s Suffrage, Japanese internment…we also know the abolition of slavery, a civil rights movement, voter rights…We have amendments to our Constitution, a Bill of Rights, that protect our liberties against an out-of-control government.

We are at a crossroads. The tug-of-war is in full view and the choices could not be more clear. Do we choose the path of freedom-and-justice-for-all or do we choose the fascist path of rights for the privileged few?

Lately, if you listen to the messaging from the White House and the resounding echo-chamber of the republican congress, the Constitution is merely a suggestion, discarded when inconvenient. We are currently witness to the unconstitutional ruling by the Supreme Court elevating the president above the law (making him a king), the suspension of due process and habeas corpus, and a complete disregard of the 4th Amendment protecting us against unreasonable searches and seizures. Our government is actively protecting an international ring of pedophiles comprised of the world’s wealthy elite – including many members of the current administration – while simultaneously constructing a network of concentration camps meant to house people of color en route to deportation. Each day, ICE, the agents of our government, egregiously violate the rights of-the-people with impunity.

It is also true that each day the people of the nation take to the streets to exercise their right to protest. The people of the nation are coming together to protect their neighbors from government abuse.

What’s behind us is a tug-of-war. What’s with us presently is a tug-of-war. What’s ahead of us?

Every crossroad is riddled with choices. Some of the impacts of the choices-made are foreseeable. Most are not. If we believe the polls, the people of the nation overwhelmingly choose the path of diversity, equity, and inclusion, a path that leads to the promise of democracy. The current administration does not.

The vast majority of our people are sick-to-death of the maga lies, the rampant gaslighting, and incessant blaming (abdication of responsibility), whining, whining, whining of this administration and the republican party.

Everything that’s behind us can lead to the fulfillment of the truths that we hold to be self-evident, that all people are created equal and that a government of the people, by the people and for the people is not only possible, it is our imperative.

Everything that’s behind us can also lead to rule by the elite few, the elimination of liberty-for-all. The embrace of antique white supremacy.

We stand at a crossroads. I hope our descendants do not have to wonder where life would have taken them had we accepted as sacred and protected the rights guaranteed to us in the Constitution. I hope they have the opportunity to look at our history, our broken road, and give thanks that, at this crossroad, we chose the path of freedom and justice for all.

read Kerri’s blogpost about WHAT’S AHEAD

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To Be Home [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Until I was 52 years old I did not know what the word “home” meant. I understood it abstractly, as an intellectual concept, as a hypothetical place of belonging…I just did not know what it felt like to be home. I was a wanderer.

I remember a moment, many years ago, when my pal Robert gave me some wise cautionary advice. I was footloose and flirting with a woman. He said, “Be careful. You don’t get involved with a woman like her unless you are ready to settle down.” I thought his caution was about the woman but later realized his wise words had nothing to do with her and everything to do with me. My friend knew me. I was restless. A wanderer.

There is more to the word “home” than a pin in a map. Google can give me directions to a location but can never show me the way home.

Home is the way Kerri and I start each day. It is different than the way others start their day, recognizable only to us and Dogga. Home is the tiny generosities that we offer each other, unique to us, unlike the considerations others offer their significant other. Home is knowing what she is feeling before she does. Home is sensing where she is in the house or in the world even when I cannot see her.

Home is knowing that she reads my mind and not minding.

I knew I was home the moment we met. I knew I was home when home had nothing at all to do with settling. I knew I was home when my wandering had a clear direction, a daily destination, a vibrant space between us that only we are capable of creating, a space that Google Maps or AI is incapable of finding or replicating or pinning down.

I now know what it feels like to be home and that feeling travels where ever we decide to wander.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE MAP

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Together We Chase [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“Freedom is not just an absence of evil but a presence of good.” ~ Timothy Snyder, On Freedom

There is a game I play with Dogga that I absolutely adore. When he wants to go out he stares at me. I stare back at him. His stare intensifies and I intensify my stare to match. Our faces move closer together. When the intensity of the stare is like a bowstring pulled to the breaking point, I say, ‘Okay!” and like an arrow released he flies toward the back door. I let him out in a festival of enthusiasm. I could play this game all day. It is bliss.

“We chose freedom when we did not run.” ~ Timothy Snyder, On Freedom

My first thought when choosing this bliss-prompt was, “Chasing bliss is a sign of privilege.” That would have been my lofty theme but then I felt Dogga’s stare. I set the computer aside and met his stare. The game was afoot!

“In dehumanizing others, we make ourselves unfree.” ~ Timothy Snyder, On Freedom

Opening the back door and watching my joy-dog launch from the deck, fully invested in his Rin-Tin-Tin persona, I recognized the superficiality of my original thought on bliss, my snotty lofty theme. Bliss has nothing to do with access or possession or any soaring ambition. It is something we create with others.

“We enable freedom not by rejecting government, but by affirming freedom as the guide to good government.” ~ Timothy Snyder, On Freedom

My Dogga is free, not because I open the door and remove a barrier, but because he knows he is loved, he knows I am good for a round of the game. Going in and out could be a chore, something mundane, but together we’ve evolved a game of bliss, an affirmation of freedom evoked within each other. We’ve created it and each day continue to create it.

To chase bliss is to offer bliss, to open and be opened. I literally open the door and Dogga quite literally opens my heart-door.

“In a world of relativism and cowardice, freedom is the absolute among absolutes, the value of values.”~ Timothy Snyder, On Freedom

Painting is a bliss I chase, not because of the act of smearing paint but because it opens me to something much bigger than myself. Bliss happens when I get out of the way, get present, and revel in the dance. It liberates me because I engage, I step toward it. I never take it for granted or delude myself into thinking I can control it. In fact, trying to control it is a guarantee that it will dissipate.

“The absence of freedom threatens life, just as threats to life undermine freedom.”~ Timothy Snyder, On Freedom

It is a relationship with life, meeting the intensity of a stare, together peeking through the blinds to marvel at the full moon, placing an extra quilt on the bed on a frigid night is to chase bliss.

Delivering groceries to neighbors afraid to leave their homes, blowing a whistle to alert the community of masked invaders, gathering at the memorial of someone executed by a rogue state, singing songs of freedom together to remind the rogue state that freedom is not something they can take away, that we will meet their stare with an intensity that says, “Game on,” and remind them that, in our votes, in our pursuit of freedom-for-all, we hold the power to open or close the door. They do not. This, too, is to chase bliss. It opens us to something bigger.

Together we chase our bliss because we reject the wretched monster the republicans are pursuing.

read Kerri’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday

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And Why? [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

High in the offices of KerriandDavid International headquarters, we stare at photos during our Melange selection process. Sometimes words appear in the image. In this photo the word, “Why” appeared. It’s akin to “Some Pig” showing up in Charlotte’s Web. “Whoa!” we whispered in unison.

“And why wouldn’t nature ask us, “Why?” Kerri added.

It may be that we have stared too long at photographs. It also might be the impact of too much coffee. In any case, we both saw the word in the bramble. It is an excellent and very appropriate question for nature to be asking of humanity. Why?

If we are learning anything these days it is that humanity is largely insane. This will not be the first time that humans have exhausted their resources and thoroughly soiled their nest en route to societal extinction all to make a buck or for the few to stand atop the pyramid.

Never doubt the power of story. Denial is, after all, a powerful form of story.

My WTF headline of the day, a perfect example of denial, is from US NEWS. It’s a report on the Womanosphere’s* continued and rabid support of ICE. The headline? Don’t Let Compassion Cloud You. I kid you not. It’s madness cut from the same cloth that brings us Stephen Miller insisting that Alex Pretti was a terrorist. No, don’t believe your eyes. Don’t let compassion cloud you. Keep your head in the gaslight. Ignore your heart. Gobble the propaganda.

Swear the ship is unsinkable even as it meets the obvious iceberg.

Since the early 1980’s we’ve known – through this magical thing called “science” – that carbon emissions were greatly impacting climate. The predictions from those early warnings were dire and we are, not surprisingly, living those dire predictions today.

The debate we are having is not about what is best for our survival but what is good for business. Don’t let science get in the way.

We are, whether we want to admit it or not, a part of nature. We are not above it even if we like to story ourselves as superior. Here is the lesson of societies long past that waved their superiority from atop the pyramid: nature is not really concerned with our story. Hurricanes are indiscriminate. As are mudslides and earthquakes. Drought does not care who it kills.

People, on the other hand are capable of discernment. People are capable of compassion. People are capable of knowing better. People are capable of learning from their past and their mistakes. In other words, people are more than capable of asking, “Why?” And, if they don’t, they end up making ridiculous statements from the top of their imagined pyramid like “Don’t Let Your Compassion Cloud You” or “Climate Change Is A Hoax,” or “He Was Brandishing A Gun.”

Whatever. Close your eyes if you must. Close your heart if you are capable.

I think I’ll listen to my heart while I pay attention to science. I’ll continue to ask, “Why?” My eyes and heart and brain are not in opposition to each other – and, even more to the point – while fully open and engaged, they are great at keeping me attuned to reality and off of some imaginary pyramid.

*I’d ordinarily provide a link as proof that such inanity exits but I refuse to support the algorithm that makes stupidity and cruelty popular.

read Kerri’s blogpost about WHY

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Our Moment [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Last night we heard a pundit say, “As Minnesota goes, so goes the rest of the nation.” It’s true. If the ICE gestapo brutalizes Minnesota into authoritarian submission without consequence, it will only be a matter of time before this ruthless regime wages war on the rest of the nation. Minnesota is our Ukraine.

As Minnesota goes, so goes the rest of the nation. In the face of this masked brutality, the best impulse of humanity is rising. The community is coalescing. People are showing up to serve and to protect their neighbors. The leaders of the state are encouraging peaceful protest. The leaders of the state are calling out the blatant lies of a sadistic administration run amok. The people are meeting the ICE gestapo in the streets demanding the return to the rule of law in the face of the government’s institutionalized lawlessness.

Jacob Frey, the mayor of Minneapolis said, “This is our moment…to meet a whole lot of hate with a whole lot of love.”

Love need not be soft. Love sometimes looks like a person unwilling to sit quietly as injustice invades their neighborhood. Love stands before a masked and armed thug and blows a whistle. Love bears witness, holding high their camera, to record a government-paid-rabble piling onto an unarmed person, pulling frightened people from their cars, gassing families in their minivans, hauling undressed elders from their home into the frigid morning. Love conceals and drives people to work. Love delivers food to people afraid to leave their houses. Love refuses to surrender personal and communal sovereignty to the assault on freedom. Love rejects the manufactured divisions of the hatemongers and race-baiters currently leading the nation and justifying cruelty.

This is our moment. Either love or hate will rule the day. As Minnesota goes, so goes the rest of the nation and Minnesota gives me hope. A whole lot of love is rising to meet the masked purveyors of hate.

*****

I wrote this post days before the masked thugs of the United States executed Alex Pretti on a street in Minneapolis for exercising his first amendment right – and then attempted to brand him as the terrorist in the story because he was exercising his second amendment right. Their message to us is clear: fear your government. Be quiet. Their message is hate-full. For Alex Pretti, for Renee Good, and all of those who, in the face of this fear, continue exercising their rights, know that there is now no greater act of love than standing up for our neighbors, for our rights. The people in Minneapolis are our neighbors. The rights under assault are our rights. There can be no greater act of love than standing up for them and with them. The time for meeting hate with love is urgent. We are out of time.

read Kerri’s blogpost about LOVE

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The Nitty Gritty [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“I wish it didn’t have the number 47 on it,” she said of the painted clay plate. “It ruins it for me.” We launched into a conversation about all the nitty gritty things that the authoritarian wannabe and his grotesques have ruined for us. The word “great”. The color red. The word “ice”. The Republican party. The office of the President. The Supreme Court. The word “tremendous”. It is a very long list. It includes family relationships. It includes having an iota of respect for anyone who supports him or makes excuses for him or justifies the horror show that he’s unleashed; it includes the systems (people) that seem unwilling or incapable of stopping what they know to be putrid. He leaves his stink on all of us.

It includes my understanding of the word “tolerance”. I have long believed it is important to stand in the shoes of “the other person”. I now have an asterisk next to the word “tolerance”: there are some shoes that are too ugly to stand in. There are some points of view too toxic to entertain. I’ve found within me the absolute necessity for intolerance and I cannot express how profoundly sad that makes me.

And then there is the contrast principle, the nitty gritty things that fill me with hope. I will never see a whistle in the same way. The word “taco” is forever altered. I am in awe of people dedicated to peaceful protest in the face of a gestapo that antagonizes them. The word “protest” has come to mean so much more than I understood. Phrases like “due process” and “habeas corpus” are now three-dimensional and brimming with importance. Amidst the utter cowardice of the major media, the phrase “a free press” carries renewed significance. An actual free press is rising among the progressive independent media. The word “truth” is no longer generic. I’ll now forever equate the word “courage” with people running out of their homes to protect their neighbors. “Protect”. People organizing to reclaim decency and to demand integrity in our leaders. “Organizing”. So many words finding gravity in this time.

I no longer take the word “democracy” for granted. It is forever changed, enlivened. I understand the word “vote” as one of the most powerful actions a human being can take. Deciding who represents us, our values and will steward our shared dream. And, if our representatives betray our trust, we vote to remove them and replace them with someone more capable. Someone with “integrity”. Yet another nitty gritty word that has renewed meaning.

Vote. Integrity. Democracy. Truth. Decency. Shared values, like “equality”. These are the nitty gritty: the basics, the essentials, the essence. These “words” are the most profound gifts that members of our community can give to each other. In these times, they are the epicenter of what we must claim and protect for each other.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE PLATE

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Our Way Home [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

I bought the chair in the early 1980’s in a mountain town. It was the very first piece of furniture I purchased. I don’t remember the details except how odd it was that I was buying a chair. I was more-or-less a gypsy and moving a chair to-and-fro was out of character. It was an antique, mission style with a cane back though the caning had an imperfection, a slight tear. Even though it made no sense I had to have it.

It became my studio rocking chair. It was a fixture in every studio I’ve occupied – and there have been many – positioned directly across from my easel. I’ve spent countless hours of my life rocking in that chair, staring at works-in-progress.

It was the only piece of furniture in the truck when we closed my studio in Seattle for the move to Wisconsin. Paintings. Clothes. My easel. The chair. I had another rocker in my Seattle studio but gave it to PaTan. Her studio was across the hall from mine.

In Kenosha, my studio is in the basement of our nearly 100 year old house. One night last year, in the middle of the night, a water pipe broke directly above my chair. My hardcover sketchbook was on the seat of my rocker. By the time we heard the waterfall in the basement, the next morning, the sketchbook was literally mush. The original straw stuffing in the seat, older than our house, was sodden and ruined. The force of the water blew out the caning in the back.

At first it felt like a gut punch. We salvaged the pieces, storing them in a corner so we could clean up the mess and decide what to do. The chair sat in the corner for a year before I knew it was time to let it go. Someone out there, with the right skills, could properly repair it and bring it back to life. They would love it back into existence. I would open space, let go of the old and welcome in a new era.

When we brought the pieces upstairs to photograph, Kerri found the stamp from the original maker. It stopped us in our tracks. The chair was was made in Wisconsin, just up the road from where we live. It had traveled with me all of my adult life from Colorado to California to Seattle and places in between. And, in the end I was startled to discover that I’d brought it home – just as now I believe – it brought me home.

It makes sense why that younger version of myself had to have it. That chair understood my destiny and somehow knew that sooner or later, together, we’d rock our way across the country and, someday, find our way home.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE CHAIR

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Take A Peek [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“But the relationship of morality and power is a very subtle one. Because ultimately power without morality is no longer power.” ~ James Baldwin

At first glance, this birds-eye-view of our luminaria looks to me like a tear in the fabric of time. It seems a peek into another time so that the other-time is also capable of peeking into our time.

Historian Timothy Snyder defines freedom, not as the removal of a limit, rather freedom is something we continually create together. Our creation of freedom is an expression of shared values. Follow the thought, examine the history and we learn (over and over again) that no one can be free unless everyone is free, and freedom doesn’t just happen.

Isn’t freedom-and-justice-for-all a statement – an expression – of a shared value? I protect your freedom because your freedom is also mine. If your freedom is revoked, mine is revoked also. From a birds-eye view, from the rip in the fabric of time, it’s easy to see that we lost our freedom when the Supremes suspended due process. We tossed away our freedom when they somehow ruled that one man was above the law.

Have you noticed that ICE is less and less concerned about the citizenship of the people they snatch off the streets?

Authoritarians objectify segments of the population (woke, scum, snowflake, illegals…). They objectify in order to define them as “Other”, as less-than-human. It’s easier and more palatable to take freedom from an object than it is to strip it from a living, breathing human being, an equal. The problem is, the history is, that objectification-of-others spreads like an aggressive cancer. It takes over the body. It kills the body. It snuffs the freedom of all.

The misguided notion of freedom-and-justice-for-some becomes a prison for all. No one sleeps easily.

Our democracy is young. It tugs on the rope between freedom-for-all and freedom-for-the-select. Yet, we (currently objectifying each other as maga AND woke) tell ourselves over and over again the story of freedom-for-all winning against the brutal authoritarians, the believers in freedom-for-the-select-few.

In our movies, the bad guys are always believers in freedom-for-the-select. The Emperor wants a slave class and unlimited power. Luke and Obi Wan are believers in freedom-for-all. Even though they are outgunned, they have virtue on their side – and the virtue they embody, the driver of their rebellion, is a belief in freedom-and-justice-for-all. We cheer when they win in the end. Frodo and company, against all odds, must return the corrupting ring of power to Mount Doom, ending once-and-for-all the authoritarian control of Sauron. Even though the task seems impossible, they have good on their side and they win. And what is their definition of good? To live peacefully according to their will. We cheer when the good King returns to power; he is good because he serves the people and not the other way around. David slays Goliath. Kilmar Abrego Garcia stands against a vindictive authoritarian administration. The Epstein survivors fight for decades, against all odds, to bring down the monstrous Epstein class of rich and powerful believers of freedom-for-the-select.

The story of freedom-for-all triumphant over freedom-for-the-select is our nation’s founding story. Rebels in the colonies, believers in rule-by-the-people-and-for-the-people, believers in the rule of law over the king’s rule, broke free of an authoritarian. Since then it has been our task to create and recreate freedom, to extend and protect the rights and freedoms we value, edging ever closer to freedom-for-all in our diverse nation.

Sometimes, people are blinded by power and are enticed to the dark side. They choose the wrong team. Darth Vader, in the end of the story, is confronted by the loss of his moral compass. Watching the grotesque Emperor torture of his son, he sees, maybe for the first time, the truth of the cancer he serves. He is confronted by his ultimate loss of freedom, the sacrifice of his son, Luke. Seeing the truth, Darth Vader intervenes, he saves his son. Sacrificing his own life, he throws the Emperor, the authoritarian, into the abyss. He redeems himself. He re-enters the good, the unifying force.

These stories are our metaphors. They are expressions of our values. They are the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves.

From a birds-eye view, from the stories we continue to tell to each other, we are undeniably believers in freedom-for-all. A hundred years from now, through the rip in the fabric of time called history, we’ll know whether or not WE THE PEOPLE defeated the evil within our nation or fell into a corrupt regime, a cancerous state goosestepping to the whims of an immoral emperor who ruled over a universe of slaves.

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 – 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.

read Kerri’s blogpost about LUMINARIA

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Hear The Gentle Tapping [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“May peace gently find you and fall upon your heart.” ~ Anonymous

It seems like a tall order, doesn’t it? Especially now in our era of conflict, chaos, division, turmoil…I suppose that is the point of a wish or blessing. There would be no need to pray for peace falling upon our hearts if our hearts were peaceful.

I imagine Peace looking for us. We can’t be that hard to find.

The children’s book version of Peace’s search for humankind would not be about a search for humankind but a vigil at the doorway of the heart of humankind. Peace has already found us. It knows where we are. Peace surrounds us and is quietly tapping on our heart’s door.

We must be afraid to let it in. What else?

Timothy Snyder wrote, “Freedom is not an absence but a presence, a life in which we choose multiple commitments and realize combinations of them in the world. Virtues are real, as real as the starry heavens…”

Peace is like Timothy Snyder’s freedom. It is a presence. It doesn’t go away in the face of war. It waits patiently for us to open our heart’s door. To choose it.

It is not made of ethereal stuff. It is real. It is tangible, as substantial as is conflict. Like virtues, Peace is real as the starry heavens. To borrow phrasing from Timothy Snyder, Peace “is a life in which we choose multiple commitments and realize combinations of it in the world.”

A wish for the new year: May we hear the gentle tapping at our heart’s door and open it to Peace. May we choose it. May we allow it to enter and gently fall upon and open our closed hearts.

read Kerri’s blogpost about PEACE

May peace fall softly upon your world and stay in your heart forever. ~~ Kahlil Gibran

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