All The Way To The Skin [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

The fortune read, “Sprinkles of joy will shower upon you in unexpected ways.” She stared at in disbelief. It was a whispered reinforcement from an old friend. A much needed affirmation of good things to come.

For me it brought a memory: she was introducing me to Lake Geneva. We were just getting to know each other. The skies opened suddenly and dumped buckets of rain on us. We laughed and laughed, ducking into a doorway for some cover. We were soaked and giddy. Showers of joy came upon us in unexpected ways. So much joy showered us that we had to put towels on the seats of the car to protect the upholstery.

Last night, walking by the cemetery, we talked about the hillside covered in headstones. “These were people with voices and dreams and desperation. Lives.” I said. “Like us. They had just so many days on earth. These stones for me are not an abstraction.” She agreed. We must not waste our precious days lost in the weeds. Railing against the weather.

When the deluge comes, it’s best to hold hands, turn into it, and laugh. Joy may sometimes come in sprinkles but for us it usually arrives in buckets that soak us all the way to the skin.

read Kerri’s blogpost about JOY

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Heed The Stone [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Stones are markers.

When we wander the cemetery at the end of our street I sometimes see the headstones, not as location stones, but as boundaries-marked-in-time. Before. After. The leaping place of souls.

There are stones placed to indicate a borderline. I imagine the stone with the spray-painted message is one of those: beyond this point is the land of love. Who wouldn’t want to cross this border? Who wouldn’t want to step over this divide and wander in the frontier of love?

People stack stones to mark the way. To help others. To help themselves find the way home. Ease of passage.

This stone quietly standing along the bike trail does not call attention to itself. In fact, we’ve passed it many times and only just saw its message. Like a pictograph left by the ancients, someone-in-time felt compelled to leave a message on the path for others to see. A boundary in time? A borderline? A passage marker? An aspiration for travelers along this route?

Good choices, all.

read Kerri’s blogpost about the LOVE STONE

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Where It Ends [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Today is the day when hoaxsters and jokesters and pranksters abound. It’s the unofficial-official national day of the trickster.

Historically on this day it’s best to doubt everything that you are told, to check the sources of your information. To join in the joking and let off some steam with a bit of harmless mischief.

It’s much harder in this day-and-age since everyday is April fools day! The mischief is not harmless. With so many dedicated conspiracy theorists running amok, shysters selling bibles, serial liars celebrated, vapid minds taken seriously, it’s difficult to tell where the fool’s day begins and where it ends. It’s tough to know where the fools begin and where they end.

So, on this day as on all others, it’s a best practice to doubt everything that you are told [as a rule of thumb, it’s not a bad practice everyday to doubt everything that you think!], to religiously check the sources of your information and to check the sources of information promoted as religious.

Fools and tricksters are meant to make us open our eyes; to step back and take ourselves less seriously. To help us discern between the sacred and the profane. They are meant to shock the system when the system begins to believe that it’s “all that.” They are meant to help us laugh at ourselves.

Play safe out there. Have fun. It is my deepest wish that we might lighten up ever so slightly and learn to chuckle at our foibles. I know, I know…pie in the sky. First we must learn to distinguish between a foible and a strength, a truth and a lie, a joke and a virtue, an ignoramus and a learner, propaganda and news.

Until then, we are all destined to be April’s fools.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FOOLS

[Christopher Wool’s painting, Fool, at the Milwaukee Art Museum]

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Pull The Thorns [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Matthew and Rumi agree: “You hypocrite! First take the beam out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”

 The Buddha is purported to have said: “The faults of others are easier to see than one’s own.”

The message is ubiquitous. The teaching is universal. If you wish to wander in the fields of flowers, pull the thorns from your heart. And, like all simple truths, it’s easier said than done.

History is riddled with the greatest persecutors loudly proclaiming themselves victims. It’s a pattern. Sometimes the odor of hypocrisy is faint. Sometimes it stinks to high heaven. Currently, we are watching this age old drama play out on our political stage. No-self-awareness. Not-an-iota-of-personal-responsibility.

It’s worthy of Aeschylus. It’s a theme that runs through the greatest works of Shakespeare. Othello. Hamlet. MacBeth. Lear. Tortured thorny hearts with split intentions. It’s ever-present because it’s a bear-topic that every human has wrangled. Psychologists call it “projection.”

There is no path to inner peace that does not begin with dedicated self-reflection, self-revelation, and a subsequent healthy course of eye-beam-removal. A good honest look at the thorns carried within the heart before the plucking. What’s true of an individual is also true of a community.

And, if we are lucky and brave and honest, “…at length, truth will out.” A good test of truth is the flood of peace that ensues. A wander through the fields of flowers.

read Kerri’s blogpost about PULLING THORNS

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Enter And Listen [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

A Haiku for You

A forest critter,

Gnome, Leprechaun or Spirit,

Tree Dweller, Heart Door.

Sometimes I want to believe in magic. I want to think there is an angel at my side. I want to sit in the certainty of Rumi, knowing without doubt that the entire universe, the whole of infinity, is tipping in my favor.

Sometimes I want to know what tomorrow will bring. No surprises. I want to know that the good people will win over the rage-mongers and truth-spinners. Just like in the movies. I want to know that perseverance will inevitably meet ideal circumstance and all will be well in the end. I want to be at the other end of the week so I can tell the story of what happened, the story of stamina and fortitude fulfilled.

Sometimes I want to know that the eagle flying by at just the right moment or the hovering hawk or the owl hooting outside my window at midnight is bringing me a message: we’ve got your back. Fear not. Take another step. From our height we can see the meadow, the sun and tall grasses. We can feel the hope, breathe the calm.

Sometimes when she spies a heart-shape and kneels to capture it for her collection, I want the gentle spirit, the gnome or sprite living in the tree or residing in the leaf shaped like the symbol, to make themself visible to us and affirm that there is meaning in the mystery, that in this life there is more sense than we can possibly imagine. There is reason. A reason. Yet, I already know what it would avow if it allowed us to see it: the meaning of the mystery is always found right where we knew it would be, where we know it to be: in the heart. Our vast open hearts. We do not need to seek it or wish for it. We need only enter and listen – more than just sometimes.

read Kerri’s blog about HEART DOOR

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Trouble Maker [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“The truly creative mind in any field is no more than this: A human creature born abnormally, inhumanly sensitive.” ~ Pearl S. Buck

“What did you take a picture of?” he said enthusiastically, crossing our path on the trail!

“The cattails,” she answered, showing the stranger her photograph. “They’re glowing!”

“Ah! You’re seeing! Most people walk these trails to get through them. Very few people are curious enough to learn. It’s only when you see that you can learn. It’s only when you learn that you can see!”

His name was George. I couldn’t place his accent. We guessed his age to be near 80 though he was more spry and alive than people half his age. Pulling up his AllTrails app, he shared stories of the local trails that he’d walked. “This one is gorgeous!” he exclaimed.

As we parted he turned and shouted, “Remember, you’ll never get in trouble if you are learning! Only ignorance will get you into trouble!”

And odd parting sentiment. An apt parting sentiment for our times. I wondered if we just had a happy visitation from a wizard. A forest sprite. A wise hermit.

For the rest of our walk I thought about his parting sentiment. Trouble. John Lewis said, “Get in good trouble.” There is a kind of trouble that only comes when you see – when you learn. Artists and academics, seekers of truth, are problematic for authoritarians and bullies. Seeing – truth – learning – is problematic for purveyors of lies and promoters of ignorance. John Lewis got into plenty of good trouble in his life and our lives are better for it.

Kerri and I both have been branded “troublemakers” at various points in our lives. We are too sensitive, some have said,”… too sensitive for our own good.” We have artist natures. As premises go, George’s parting comment is accurate: ignorance always leads to a whole bunch of trouble. Ignorance is loud and, these days, wears a red hat.

It is equally as accurate that learning, calling out ignorance, speaking quiet truth, brings its own brand of trouble. Good trouble. The kind of trouble that actually makes people’s lives better.

read Kerri’s blogpost about TROUBLEMAKER

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Animate! [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Hydro: relating to water.

Hydra: a problematic many-headed serpent in Greek mythology. The problem: every time some hero tried to cut off one of its heads, the old head was replaced by two. The original myth behind compounding interest. Hercules finally rid the world of the monster. You’ll have to read the myth to find out how. I don’t want to spoil it for you.

Hydra lived in Hydro. Water serpent. In the 18th century Linnaeus named a water critter after the mythic serpent because, when severed, the critter regenerates a new part. Language is an amazing thing, drawing connections in many directions across eons of time. All words, like all people, have origin stories.

And this brings me to the flask. My first flask, pocket-sized, was a gift for participation in a wedding. It was often filled with spirits. To be clear, the spirits my flask contained were distilled and not ghost-ish or soul-like, though both the distilled and the ethereal notions are capable of the same outcome: animation.

This flask, my Hydro Flask, is reserved for coffee exclusively. Coffee is also a source of animation. It brings me to consciousness each morning.

Anima. From the latin: life or soul.

Coffee. From the pot: life-giving. Soul restoring.

My flask keeps my morning soul-juice hot for a long, long time. It’s small but it’s mighty. Herculean, one might say.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HYDRO FLASK

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buymeacoffee is an opportunity for you to support the work of non-linear thinkers. It is cleverly disguised as a water feature, though in truth it is a soul restorer.

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

I understand that there are no straight lines in nature. In life, either. Curves, bumps, potholes…surprises… are the spice of an interesting life. A full palette experience. Note: I did not write “an easy life.” Easy is a one-color painting.

That there are no straight lines in life or in nature (same thing) makes this warning sign something of a curiosity. If there are only curves of varying degrees, why warn me that there is a curve coming. I’m presently standing in a curve. There will be a curve after the upcoming curve. And another after that.

I’d be much more interested if the sign warned me of smooth sailing ahead. Or calm waters. Or momentary peace.

I suppose I’m less interested in the geometry of my travels and more concerned with the quality of my journey. I understand that the sign is attempting to help me manage my expectations, moderate my speed, prepare for what’s ahead; it’s a type of crystal ball. It knows what the future holds if I continue on this path.

I already know that there is a curve ahead. I have no expectation of straight paths. Or narrow paths, for that matter. I do, however, expect to be surprised. Although there is no sign in yellow and black warning me of the beauty, I understand that there’s an amazing vista ahead, somewhere just beyond the curve.

read Kerri’s blogpost about CURVES

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buymeacoffee is a sign on the road that we are not tossing our words and work into a e-void. it’s hope in a modern era.

ILY [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Shapes become symbols. The alphabet is my evidence. Or the silhouette of a dove carrying an olive branch. Two equilateral triangles merged into a star, once the property of Venus and now under the stewardship of David.

Occasionally I incorporate calligraphy-like strokes in my paintings. The marks resemble the Chinese alphabet. Patrons have asked me what the symbols mean? I’ve learned to smile as if keeping a secret. They want the lines, the symbol, to have a meaning. I’ve learned not to rob them of their wanting. “What does it mean to you?” I ask. A question answered with a question.

Kerri saw this marking in a felled tree. “It’s I love you in sign language!” she exclaimed. ILY. Her family flashes the hand sign for I Love You when it’s time to depart. It’s the last thing we see as we drive down the street, turn the corner.

Lately, our world is populated with emojis. Heart, heart, heart. So many yellow faces with so many possible expressions. Symbols adding nuance to symbols. “What does this one mean,” I sometimes ask. I am a clumsy user of emojis. It’s yet a foreign language and I have been reprimanded for symbolizing the wrong thing; sending the wrong message. “But I love this whacky face!” I insist. I like using the wrinkled face, one eye open, tongue sticking out.

She rolls her eyes. I flash the I Love You sign. She rolls her eyes again only this time it is followed with a warm hug.

A hug. It’s universal. The best of all symbols.

read Kerri’s blogpost about ILY

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buymeacoffee is a symbolic offer to the creators of symbol in sound, on paper, and in other not-yet-named dimensions.

Redeem It [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

The closet in Kerri’s studio is just like my grandma’s purse. Anything and everything can be found there. It is a clown car of surprises. Need a snack? A kitchen sink? A wrench? A pile of napkins? An idea? Simply reach in the magic closet and what you seek will be found.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

“The stuff I had hanging on the previous refrigerator.” She smiled, reading my mind, “Did you really keep the stuff that was hanging on the old fridge? Oh, yes I did!”

“Of course you did.” I confess, I was surprised. She reached into the magic closet and in a nanosecond pulled a shoebox from the void.

Opening the box, she rooted through the contents. “I can’t find it.” She frowned.

“What?”

“The Huggy-Huggy sticker. It used to be on the fridge!” Now the search was getting serious. When she gets that tone, I know she will not rest until she’s unearthed what she’s looking for.

“What’s a Huggy-Huggy sticker?” Her look tells me that my question is inane. I knew better than to ask “Why are you looking for a Huggy-Huggy sticker?” Her reasons are her own and the question might have inspired ire.

She rattles around inside the box. “Oh,” she whispers. “This might work,” she says, handing me the small piece of paper. “I think my mom sent this.” On the backside there are two coupons – one for a fuel injection cleaning. The other for auto-air-conditioner-inspection. On the frontside is a coupon for free hugs. Redeemable from any participating human being.

“This week is Valentines Day,” she says by way of explaining her reach into the void to find a Huggy-Huggy sticker that once stuck to the fridge.

“Oh,” I say, thinking of Albert, the last time I saw him, in Los Angeles, standing outside a conference room with a cardboard sign that said Free Hugs. He was a good sport, a good friend, and was doing me a favor. I was about to co-lead a training in the room and wanted to stir people as they came in. To my surprise, although intimidating, Albert received several Free Hugs from several participating human beings. It opened people’s hearts. We had a good session with so many open minds following the example of their hearts.

“It’s from the 90’s,” she said, bringing me back to now. “A simpler time.”

“Yes,” said. “Not so long ago.” I re-read the coupon. My favorite phrase: it expires the day after eternity. Open hearts opening minds. No real expiration date.

“This week is Valentines Day,” she repeated. “Don’t you think it will be a good thing to write about?”

Yes. Yes, I do.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FREE HUGS

when we were babies…

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buymeacoffee is a hug; not quite free but the impact is just as powerful