Metaphor | The Direction of Intention

The Smallest of Things [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on June 17, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

We’ve taught Dogga not to bark at the dachshunds next door. He stands vigil on our bed where he can see out the window and over the fence. He waits, knowing their morning routine. When the moment arrives, when the dachshunds come outside, Dogga groans and moans – like a character in a melodrama – to suppress his bark. He leaps off the bed, turns to look at us, and vigorously complains. His indignation is among our favorite morning rituals. We giggle at his yawling discord. We tell him to, “Go get candy cane!”, his favorite toy, useful in chewing away his dissatisfaction. He races into the next room returning with his plastic candy cane in his mouth, looking somewhat like Groucho Marx gnawing on a red and white striped cigar.

In those moments I couldn’t be more in love with my life. It’s the smallest of things.

We were like small children overrun with anticipation as we awaited the blossoming of the peonies. Last fall Loida gifted Kerri with two new peony roots. Elsa Sass and Amalia Olson. We planted them with great care, following the instructions to the letter. In the spring, little green adventurers broke through the soil. Soon there were leaves and then the tiniest buds. And then, one day, the buds began to swell; nature’s Jiffy Pop. Like Dogga peering out the window, we’d race outside each morning to hold our vigil. This week, the buds burst open, radiant flowers unfolded. Kerri was beside herself. The photo session has been ongoing for days. “I just love them!” she exclaims with each and every snap.

It’s the smallest of things.

This weekend, people left the comfort and safety of their homes to walk together in the streets. They showed up for each other. They showed up en masse to remind their elected leaders that they serve the public and not their party; they are meant to serve the needs of the public and not the whims of a criminal. People walked together to remind the absent/silent Republican members of Congress that they swore an oath to uphold The Constitution – and they are betraying their oath. Millions of people stepped out of their houses to walk together, to express their dissatisfaction with the brutality, the attempted authoritarian take-down of our democracy, to join together their voices to say, “We will not abdicate our responsibility to each other as you have abdicated your responsibility to us.”

It’s the smallest of things. To step out of the house. To walk with others. To speak truth to power, especially when power is a bully threatening violence.

Recently I’ve asked myself – as I’ve heard many others ask, “But what can I do?” This weekend we experienced an answer: Do the smallest of things. Step out of your house. Take a walk with your neighbors that sends a clear message to the cowards in Congress and the supremely corrupted court: The democracy that our ancestors planted here is precious and worth protecting.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE PEONY

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Filed under: Edges, Identity, Metaphor, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: artistry, authoritarian, betrayal, Congress, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, democracy, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, No Kings, oath, peony, power, protest, responsibility, story, studio melange, The Constitution of The United States, the melange, The Supreme Court | 4 Comments »

Special Crow Delivery [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on June 11, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

At the end of the epic poem, bees are Beowulf’s allies. They are his secret weapon. At the beginning of the story, they are his nemesis, stinging his face so badly that his eyesight is compromised.

If I follow this story template in my life, then crows will someday be my ally. During my years in Seattle they were definitely my nemesis. They attacked me on a daily basis. I learned that crows have facial recognition – and very long memories – so I can only assume that the crows mistook me for someone else. It was hard not to take their attacks personally.

There is another possibility. In many cultures crows are considered messengers from the spiritual realms. In this scenario, the crows were trying to wake me up, shake me up, open my eyes to something I was denying. They were ruthless. And, at the end of my time in Seattle, I definitely opened my eyes to something I did not want to see.

Or, I could combine both possibilities: the crows were messengers from another realm and delivered their message to the wrong person. I took delivery on someone else’s package, someone who looked like me.

I often think of the Seattle crows because there is a healthy crow population here in our neighborhood on the shores of Lake Michigan. They are everywhere. And, much to my delight, they’ve never given me a second look. Every day I walk the streets without crow fear, surprise swooping, or contact pain. They are messengers without a single message for me and I couldn’t be more pleased.

I know by their sounds what is happening in the neighborhood. I know when an owl or hawk is close. I know when a cat is creeping up on a nest (it is a distinctly different sound from the owl alert). I know by their silence that all is right in the neighborhood.

Beowulf sent his bees into the mouth of a dragon that was threatening his kingdom. Would-that-I-could send my ally crows into the mouth of the fascist dragon now threatening our democracy. I know from experience that crow-messages are not subtle or pleasant. They are very effective.

Crows are also symbolically associated with knowledge, intellect and wisdom. At the very least the crows might bring a special delivery of those attributes to the Republican leadership of this nation who seem to be running in short supply. Just like Beowulf’s dragon, they hoard mounds of gold with no idea what to do with it other than sit on it and breathe fire if their gilded seat is threatened. Just like Beowulf’s dragon, they terrorize the populace, whip up fear and discord, while feeding on the most vulnerable to satiate their gluttonous appetite.

If we follow the template of this ancient epic tale, the dragon’s days are numbered. Gold-hoarding bullies cannot long survive when the bees – or the crows – are unleashed, when the people decide that enough is enough.

read Kerri’s blogpost about the CROW FEATHER

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Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Metaphor | Tagged: artistry, Beowulf, crow symbolism, crows, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, democracy, fascism, intellect, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, leadership, messenger, story, studio melange, symbolism, the melange, wisdom | Leave a comment »

Either Way [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on June 5, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

At this time of year, sleeping as we do with the window open, I have the impression that the birds sing the sun to rise. In the evening, they sing it to rest beneath the horizon. What happens between those two songs is always a surprise.

I recently read a quote by Aldous Huxley that struck a deep chord: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly, child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly, even though you’re feeling deeply…”

Dogga has been a great teacher. He is highly sensitive, keenly keyed into us. He feels everything I feel, we feel. If we start to take ourselves too seriously, he runs for his safe haven in the bathroom. At first his retreat to the safety of the bathroom brought us up short. It was like being slapped into consciousness. “We’re upsetting the dog.” We’d breathe, step back and change our tone. We’d lighten up. He’s become a barometer of whether or not we’re taking ourselves too seriously and we’ve learned to lighten up before he feels the need to retreat.

It’s possible: walking lightly through life can be learned.

“Look at the color of the sky!” she said, aiming her camera.

“It’s a Colorado sky,” I mused. The blue was intense against the new spring-green leaves.

We were slow-walking on one of our favorite trails, talking about the past decade, the seeming-forced peeling back of layers, the necessity of letting go of grievances and disappointments when she suddenly pulled her camera from her pocket. “Look at the color of the sky!” I smiled: evidence of not taking anything – especially ourselves – too seriously.

“So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly…”

It’s an ongoing life lesson. Feeling deeply need not be weighty. Especially now. There are, indeed, quicksands all around us, sucking at our feet. It’s always an option to disappear into the muck of fear and despair. As we have learned – and continue to learn – hopelessness is a heavy load. As is resentment. Regret is a guaranteed back-breaker. Denial is the heaviest bag of all. Our nation is currently learning this lesson.

The surprise between the birdsong? We can walk with the light astonishment of the new day or we can drag along yesterday’s heavy baggage. It’s our path, it’s our choice, either way.

[I just finished writing this post when Guitar Jim sent this gorgeous song by Darrell Scott. Serendipity, the song says it better than I ever will]:

read Kerri’s blogpost about TREES AND SKY

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Filed under: Awakening, DR Thursday, Metaphor | Tagged: A Crooked Road, aldus huxley, artistry, consciousness, Darrell Scott, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, happiness, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, life lessons, lighten up, story, studio melange, the melange | Leave a comment »

The Fire That Sustains [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on June 3, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

It’s funny what a photo invokes. A contrail and the sun:

When he was young Beethoven wrote a ballet called The Creatures of Prometheus. It is too big for modern ballet companies to produce and symphonies have a difficult time adding it to their program because – well – it’s a ballet and the music needs something to tie it together. I had the great good fortune to develop a story based on original program notes and perform The Creatures of Prometheus with The Portland Chamber Orchestra, conducted by Yaki Bergman, in 2008.

It is a story of the creation of human beings. It is the story of jealous Zeus forcing the newly created humans to accept him as their god rather than their true creator, Prometheus. Zeus is an irrational bully. The other gods on Olympus go along with his brutality because they, like the humans, fear him. Apollo the sun god, the god of reason and light, despises Zeus and plants the seed of reason in the creatures in the hope that, one day, they would awaken to their true nature, they would recognize the old god Prometheus as their true creator.

At the height of the Black Lives Matter protests Yaki contacted me and asked me to rewrite the script to make it relevant to the events of the day. We were to perform the new piece, entitled The Last of the Old Gods, in the spring of 2023. There was a contract snag delay. Yaki was diagnosed with an aggressive cancer and passed before we could perform it. I grieve him. He was a great artist with a big vision and even bigger laughter.

Art is meant to carry the conscience of a community. It is meant to express and explore the values of society. And, since society is mostly blind to itself, It is meant to be a mirror, a mechanism for people to see themselves. Yes, it needs to entertain but entertainment is the warmth that draws the community to the hearth fire. Art is the fire that sustains.

It is enough to say that we are currently living in a time of a false bully who would-be god. He must lie and fearmonger to achieve his desire, just like Zeus in the ballet. In re-reading both of my versions of the script I was struck how they are now more relevant than when I wrote them. The Last of the Old Gods will live in my files. It will, I hope, someday, find its light-of-day.

Here is a segment of text from The Last of the Old Gods, the final bit of story that leads into the musical Finale:

“In an instant, Apollo sent a tiny spark, a thread of sun that wove through the spell of Thalia’s masks, that opened a possibility of release. A chance at remembering. As the creatures circled each other in their dance, one reaching, the other rejecting, like a drowning man, one pressing the other down to elevate itself, Apollo whispered into their souls a possibility, a pathway home.

His thread of sun ignited the seed Prometheus planted.

If someday, they could turn and face their fear, see through the false division, let go of the lust for power and belief in dominance and division, if one day these creatures could take a chance and reach toward the other, it might remember itself. Thalia’s masks would fall. The seesaw game would collapse. And the creatures’ natural iridescence would be restored.

It might, someday, look in the eyes of the other, and remember itself. Whole. Prometheus’ touch would finally reach them. The last old god, Prometheus, and his creation would be free.”

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE SUN AND CONTRAIL

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Filed under: Art, Creativity, Metaphor, Story, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: art, artistry, beethoven, black lives matter, community, conscience, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, entertainment, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, performance, reflection, story, studio melange, the melange, Yaki Bergman | 1 Comment »

Step Into The Mystery Fandango [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on May 30, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

Our ferns came on like gangbusters. One day they were little seahorses poking their heads from the ground. The next day (it seemed) they were standing tall, mature, a thick rich green forest of fern-fandango.

Fandango is a Spanish dance. It is also a slang term for extravagant behavior. Gangbusters is an idiom that originated from a 1930’s radio crime show and means “with enthusiasm” or “with great energy”.

I loved that she thought to take a photo from the top, a birds-eye view looking down into the dark secret center. It made we want to reach in, to discover the mystery of the fern fandango.

An enigma is always a Siren’s call to the human mind. It’s why we sail to the edge of the world or send rockets to the moon. It’s why we crack the genome or climb to the top of the mountain. It’s why we travel to foreign lands or seek the center of our paradoxical belief.

What is over there, in there, beyond? It is human nature to ask, to ponder, to relentlessly pursue questions. Questioning is the epicenter of science and the arts.

Our curiosity is greater than our fear. Ultimately, it is the reason that I have some small hope for this nation, currently in a frenzy of curiosity-killing, book-banning, history-scrubbing, white-washing, bible-thumping, mind-numbing, heart-clubbing, immigrant-ousting, truth-drowning…A whipped-up, full-on fear fandango meant to blunt all questioners.

People die when fear and panic rule their actions; they become incapable of thinking. People wilt when narrow pat-answers are forced down their throats. Authoritarians are gifted enemy-creators – enemies provide easy answers as long as no questions are permitted. Critical thinking is an authoritarians greatest foe. But, sooner or later, as is always true, the panic-stricken public tires of eating dross and have no recourse but to question the need for so much fearmongering and panic creation. Questions are the antidote to fear, the cure for toxic dictatorship because questions build the road to truth.

Questions are what drive the little seahorse ferns to pop their heads through the crusty soil. Questioners seek the light, they reach for the sun.

People blossom when curiosity calls and they answer. They join forces and mobilize. When disaster strikes, when corruption poisons the body public, people come on like gangbusters, rallying around hot questions like, “Now what?” They join hands and step together into the mystery fandango that holds the promise of leading to a better world – for all.

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE FERNS

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Filed under: KS Friday, Metaphor, Possibility | Tagged: artistry, authoritarianism, curiosity, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, dictatorship, enthusiasm, fandango, fern, gangbusters, human nature, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, questioner, questions, story, studio melange, the melange | 5 Comments »

The Fog [David’s blog on Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on May 21, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

“The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision.” ~ Helen Keller

A mile to the west it is 75 degrees and sunny. Here, by the lake, it is foggy and 10 degrees cooler. The inland heat meets the cool lake water and produces a layer of thick fog. Standing on our front porch we cannot see the end of the street.

It is quiet in our pocket of fog. Today I welcome the protective solitude it inspires. It provides a magical respite from the happenings of the world. Fog brings permission to unplug, some breathing space from the news of the day. Sitting on the back deck I imagine that we are on the shores of Avalon, disappearing into the mist, becoming invisible to the rest of the troubled, enraged world.

In the Arthurian legend, Avalon is a magical, mystical place. It is symbolic as a place of virtue.

Virtue requires vision. Choose any adjective that describes virtue – goodness, morality, integrity, dignity, honor… – all serve a clear ideal. A vision. A vision based on the capacity to discern between right and wrong, truth and lie, service and exploitation. A vision that follows a steadfast moral compass.

By this or any standard, our current leadership has sight but no vision. The milksop Republicans in Congress play cowboy while sacrificing themselves on an alter of greed. How else do we make sense of their dedicated impotence in the face of the worst constitutional crisis in our nation’s history? It’s a crisis that they could stop in a day if they honored their oath to the Constitution. If they did their jobs. The Republican president sells the national soul to the highest bidder, personal profit the glutton-master he and his peers serve. A fall from grace, our isle of vice is not disappearing into a fog of uncertainty, rather it reveals itself in the harsh light of moral indifference, it adorns itself in a festival blanket of foxy-lies producing angry maga-followers awash in a cultish brain fog. Sight without vision.

There is nothing mystical going on here. The unprincipled disavowal of ethics, the blatant bribery and unbridled greed, the hard right turn away from truth and democratic ideals – all happening in plain sight – renders us worse than blind.

Is it any wonder I welcome the fog and imagine myself disappearing into the quiet of the mystical island, a sanctuary symbolic of virtue?

read Kerri’s blogpost about FOG

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Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Metaphor, Perspective | Tagged: artistry, avalon, Congress, corruption, cowardice, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, democracy, dignity, goodness, greed, Helen Keller, integrity, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, morality, story, studio melange, the melange, uncertainty, virtue | 1 Comment »

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

Posted on May 19, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

Alone on the trail we heard a loud pop and then a crack – and then the tree fell. We felt the thud through the soles of our feet.

There was no wind. There was no apparent cause for it to fall. We were, somehow, witness to its final moment as “tree”.

If a tree falls in the woods and someone is around to hear it, it definitely makes a sound. If not? For some reason, in that majestic moment, the quotidian philosophical question popped into my mind and it bothered me. Is human observation really the only validation for existence? Philosopher George Berkeley wrote, “To be is to be perceived.” George didn’t mean perceived by squirrels or hawks or any other critter in the woods at that moment who also heard the sound and felt the fall of the old tree. For humans, philosophers, preachers and politicians alike, human perception is the requirement granting something so grand, something so profound, as existence. How many birds nested in this grand old tree during the course of its life span? How many plants will feed on its fibers now that it has joined the earth?

Hubris is our Achilles Heel.

On our drive to the trail we were rerouted. The road was shutdown in both directions. There was a terrible crash. A car was cleaved, barely recognizable. Certainly there were witnesses to this loud final moment of a human-being pass into non-being. I’m grateful I was not one of them. I do not need to have seen or heard the crash to know that it happened.

Perhaps that is why the question bothered me: “If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?” In a single day, in the space of an hour, I was witness to a tree falling in the woods and aware of a human life ending. I heard the tree so I have no need to imagine what happened. I saw the car, the evidence of the end of human life. I can only imagine.

Horatio wrote a beautiful poem about the death of a salmon after its struggle to return to its place of origin. It’s a poem about the impossibility of life and the cycle of constant renewal. The poem offers we-the-perceivers some rare perspective on the end of life.

I wondered how I could read the days news about starvation in Gaza, brutal raids and deportations without due process…and simply turn the page. That, too, must be uniquely human. To perceive and then tune out. To look the other way, to pretend not to perceive when human beings enact horror upon other human beings. It requires a dedicated lack of imagination.

We are not above it all.

“To be is to be perceived.” Perhaps. It begs an all important follow-up question: In my fleeting moment of human perception, who – or how – do I choose to be?

read Kerri’s blogpost about TINY NAILS

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Filed under: Identity, Merely A Thought Monday, Metaphor | Tagged: artistry, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, existence, George Berkeley, hubris, human, imagination, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, life cycle, Mary Oliver, perception, perspective, renewal, story, studio melange, the melange | 3 Comments »

Follow The Hummingbird [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on May 14, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

If you want to understand the power of story – if you care to discover how every cultural story is both universal and deeply personal, take the time to read and reread and reread Martín Prechtel’s small book, The Disobedience of the Daughter of the Sun. After telling the story, he peels back the layers of understanding, the story of the daughter’s disobedience is a roadmap to an intentional life. It is connective tissue to generational wisdom:

“…that though we as listeners have the illusion that we have jumped into the story, the story has actually jumped into us and uses our lives to tell out its story.”

Sitting in our backyard, the sun lowering in the sky, the hummingbird arrived. A hummingbird is featured prominently in the The Disobedience of the Daughter of the Sun and this little visitor brought the story to my mind. Like all deep-story-roots, it is a tale as relevant to us as it is to the Indigenous people who live it – to keep the story alive.

“This is a commentary on the inevitable human problem of tribalism and the tragic results of ethnocentricity. It reminds us that a preoccupation with purity is a sign that a people have lost their real stories, lost their place in history, lost their land and relationship with nature and in an effort to be “someone” they engineer mythologies that are rationalist inventions to corroborate a pure ancestry. This same rationalism probably killed their stories and their Indigenous relationship with the land to begin with.”

Have you ever read anything that so accurately describes our struggle in these un-United States? As we witness the scrubbing of DEI initiatives, the blatant and brutal whitewashing of our nation’s history in order to engineer and perpetuate a mythology of white male purity, a made-up tale planted in the shallow barren soil of nationalist Christianity…we see the undeniable sign that we have lost our real story.

As is true of all great storytellers, Martín guides us toward hope and renewal:

“The story of their cultural loss should be their story, and from that grief they could grow a new culture. If you go back far enough, all people are mixed no matter what they say, and that is no disgrace.”

There is a path. It begins with grieving our loss. Together. And then, there is this:

“The story also says that a peoples’ attachment to their homeland and customs is necessary, wonderful, and life-giving, but should never be allowed to fuel a destructive chauvinism that excludes the rest of the world’s love for its own life and land.”

These are just a few of the lessons carried within an ancient Mayan tale. They are relevant to us today. We need only care enough to open our hearts and listen. And listen again. And then simmer in the slow opportunity that avails itself in the land beyond “problem-solving”.

The promise of our crossroads nation: to grow a new culture. Isn’t that the heart of our matter? Out of many, one.

There’s a hummingbird that can show us the way.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE HUMMINGBIRD

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Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Identity, Metaphor, Story | Tagged: ancestry, artistry, culture, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, hummingbird, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, life giving, loss, martin prechtel, relationship, story, studio melange, the melange, tribalism | 1 Comment »

This Storm [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on May 1, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

It seems our weather forecast is regularly filled with dire warnings. Violent thunderstorms. Hail. Tornadoes. We watch the radar as the angry colors move across the map, headed in our direction. So far we’ve been fortunate. In the final approach, the irate clouds veer to the north or break to the south. Sometimes they split and go around us. We catch the margins of the storm, the distant booms, the lesser winds.

After dinner we sat on the deck with 20. Earlier in the evening it was too cold to sit outside, the temperature by the lake was 10 degrees cooler than inland. When I stepped out the back door to cover the grill I was taken aback. It was warm and humid. We relocated outside and marveled at the odd shape and weird color of the clouds. We knew a storm was on the way, the warnings were apocalyptic, but our radar watch confirmed that, once again, it would mostly miss us. Kerri took photographs. 20 and I giggled, lapsing into middle-school-boy humor.

The weather forecast mirrors the augury of our nation. Climate change. Culture change. Waves of anger roll across the land in phallic-shaped storm clouds. We hunker down and monitor the radar. We watch the day’s news for the latest devastation, the senseless chaos, the mean-spirit that blows away our democracy.

Sitting on the deck, we acknowledged that we are collectively holding our breath. We know that there is no avoiding this retribution storm, this oligarchic money-grab. The fight that’s coming will not veer. The fight is already here. The fascist winds have arrived. We stock up as we do for any swelling tempest. We prepare our go-bag as we did during the recent riots. We reassure each other that sense and sensibility will ultimately win the day. Decency will return. And, in the meantime, the warning sirens blare. We do what we can to fight the rising autocracy. We do what artists do.

Coming Up For Air (sketch), mixed media on canvas

read Kerri’s blogpost about the STORM CLOUDS

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Filed under: Art, DR Thursday, Metaphor | Tagged: artistry, augury, autocracy, chaos, climate change, culture change, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, democracy, fascism, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, storms, story, studio melange, the melange | 1 Comment »

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

Posted on April 28, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

Pi (Greek letter “π”) is the symbol used in mathematics to represent a constant—the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter

One of Kerri’s nicknames is math-girl. She has a freakish capacity to do math in her head. No mad pencil scribbling on paper is necessary. No calculator required. She pretends to dislike adding the grocery bill faster than the store scanner or scrutinizing the taxes for minute errors but I know, deep inside, she gets a charge out of it. 20 and I regularly raise our eyebrows and ask, “How does she do that?” I’ve learned to never disagree with her when numbers are involved. I am wrong 100% of the time.

When she saw the Pi cloud in the sky she was ecstatic. It was like a visit from an old friend. An affirmation from this grand old universe.

She told me that she likes Pi because it represents a constant. A constant is something that stays the same, something that you can count on. It also refers to a quality of movement: ceaseless repetition, something that happens without pause. Or, my favorite definition of a constant: loyal or steadfast, as in a good friend.

Her comment about constants brought to my mind Yeats’ poem, The Second Coming:

Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world...

It is a poem for our times. The cycles of history, the widening gyre, and the chaos that ensues when one epoch is ending and another is about to begin. Aren’t we now witness to a center that cannot hold? Things fall apart. Anarchy is loosed upon the world.

Here we are. Chaos is the constant. The world is flipped upside-down. A birthing pang? The caterpillar goes to mush before it reconstitutes into a new form; a butterfly.

Of course, this is me, searching for some sense to be made in the march of the oligarchs, the rape of the nation. The worship of the cruel, the elevation of the vapid. We can only hope that this is the natural progression to mush and that someday, somewhere out there, a butterfly will break from its cocoon, dry its wings, and step off the branch to restore decency, sense, and beauty to the world.

Pie-in-the-sky? Or the constant?

read Kerri’s blogpost about Pi