Incessant Musing [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on December 18, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

grasses. winter. snow. root. energy. fallow. aging. relevance.

I am ever so slowly working on a painting. In my mind it is a political statement which is why my movement is glacial. I sit in my rocking chair staring at the work-in-progress and wonder if what I want to say needs to be said. I wonder why I need to say it. I wonder if paintings that “say it” are worth painting at all. My teachers and mentors, all of them, taught me that great art happens when you “say it without saying it”.

Dogga stands in the middle of the snowy yard and barks. These are test-barks. Nothing is happening in the neighborhood and he wants something to bark about. In the absence of a meaningful bark objective, in the absence of other dogs barking in the neighborhood or the neighbor starting his car, he barks, “Is anyone out there?” Is my painting akin to Dogga barking?

Tom told me that when my beard was grey I would have a crisis of relevance. My age-peers would read my rough drafts and consider my work viable but the younger artist in my life would not. I have found that to be true. When Tom was in his middle 60’s he was arguably at the peak of his abilities yet the many, many artists whose careers he’d informed and shaped simply stopped responding to his calls. So he simply stopped trying. That was his last and perhaps greatest lesson to me: do not place your relevance in the hands of others. Follow the muse until your legs will no longer carry you. Bark and see what comes back at you.

Michelangelo sculpted his most prescient work in the last chapter of his 88 year life though he kept them under wraps since his patrons would have thought them to be irrelevant. It took the world 450 years to catch up to his Mannerist pieces.

And then there is this timeless bit of advice from a younger version of Tom: A writer writes. A painter paints. The rest is not really relevant. It’s always at this re-membrance that I stand up from my chair, put down my incessant musing, and grab my brush. A painter paints.

relevance. aging. fallow. energy. root. snow. winter. grasses.

a work in progress: Polynices & Eteocles

read Kerri’s blogpost about WINTER GRASSES

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The Principle Applies [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on December 11, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

Steve-across-the-street said that we’ve already had more snow than all of last year. “It’s not even the middle of December!” he exclaimed. I haven’t researched snow totals but it certainly feels like we’ve had more snow. I barely touched the snow shovel last year or, for that matter, the year before. This year the shovel and I are getting daily workouts. It’s possible that I could be snow-buff by the end of this season. It’s also possible that I could be snow-broken.

(note: Kerri tells me to “be careful” each time I lace on my boots and put on my gloves to go shovel. That is a relatively new development. During my last teeth cleaning the dental hygienist spoke to me in an extra loud voice; my greying beard led her to believe that I was hard of hearing. I admit that every time I look in the mirror I ask myself, “Who the hell are you and what have you done with my face?” But I don’t shout my question since I’m not having problems hearing my inner voice).

The excess of snow is producing an abundance of icicles. They are magical if you remember to appreciate them from a safe distance and not stand in awe beneath them. They are beautiful if you refuse to consider what they are capable of doing to your house. We have a special collection growing just outside our backdoor. I’ve learned not to smack them away as they will take the awning and any vinyl siding with them. Dan loaned us his heat gun and I am looking forward to melting them away between bouts of snow shoveling. Melting them is not a solution since I know that they will inevitably come back in a few days but I consider it akin to mowing the grass: I do not expect my mowing to be one-and-done since grass-grows and the same principle applies to the icicles. Plus, they are fun to melt.

Even at my age.

www.davidrobinsoncreative.com

read Kerri’s blogpost about ICICLES

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When It’s All Said And Done [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on October 6, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

I discarded another post this morning. Aghast at the latest lies and childish memes I wrote yet another political rant. It was harsh. It was too much. It led us into a lengthy conversation about how we might live and write in this toxic environment and yet not let the toxins poison us. How do we remain healthy while not denying the reality – the horrors – of our democracy’s collapse at the hands of those who swore to protect it?

In truth, I have not been happy with my recent posts. So many years ago I began writing for a specific audience – and myself – to make the distinction between unhealthy control and generative power. The shorthand is this: Control over/Power with.

Control is wielded over others while power is created with others. Control is self-absorbed. Power is other-focused. Control is the product of duality: us/them, black/white, winner/loser…It is oppositional. It can only lead to discord.

Power is created in a dynamic triad. It is relational. It is complementary and reciprocal. It always gives rise to harmony.

I realized in our conversation this morning that I had myself slipped into a duality. My writing has become oppositional. As our nation grows more violent and ugly by the day, my impulse has been to push back, to sound an alarm. I want to scream, “I am not that! WE are not that!”

Ronald Reagan famously said that “Government is the problem.” He was wrong. Government is neither a problem nor is it a solution (a duality). Government is a service (a triad). It is made of elected representatives in service to their constituents relative to serving the greater needs of the whole. It is dynamic. When functional and fair, it is complementary. Symbiotic.

Government becomes dysfunctional when it tries to run like a business and pretends it is subject to a bottom line (profit or loss). It is death for any service organization that forgets its reason-for-being and attempts to be something that it is not: government is not a business. It’s a no-brainer: privatization of government services places the emphasis on the bottom line – not on serving the people. For instance, privatize prisons and the bottom line of profitability will require the creation of more and more prisoners. Businesses need to grow. The same levers are true when applied to healthcare (as we are seeing) or education.

I believe most of the people of this nation are well intended. I believe the endgame of this administration is control so it must necessarily define everything as Us-and-Them. Demagogues need to demonize vulnerable communities and blame them for the ills of the nation. Demagogues need enemies-from-within since pitting us against each other is the route to ultimate control over…Demagogues need a Them.

People who are not steeped in blaming others for their pain are more likely to take responsibility for their destiny – which means they seek opportunity – which means that they are more apt the reach out to help and for help. Opportunity is a triad. Blame is a duality.

You might rightly ask me, “How on earth could a prompt featuring Sesame Street characters lead to a post so toxic that you had to toss it?” The answer is simple: in a control strategy like the one raging across our nation, in a forced duality designed to appear as angels and devils, good guys and bad guys, the bad guys will always get the focus. That’s the point of a control game: to see bad guys everywhere. To become reactive, suspicious, and angry. To reduce an otherwise complex, diverse thriving nation into a simplistic monotone. We are angels. They are devils. Happy and sad, grouchy and glad.

As someone once said to me, “It’s like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die.”

I drank the poison. I’m so glad that our conversation this morning opened my eyes and left me asking, “How do I not bury my head in the sand but deal with the reality and still remain healthy?”

Triads, baby. Focus on the dynamic relationships and set about creating some real power with others. When it’s all said and done isn’t that the point of a democracy?

read Kerri’s blogpost about SESAME STREET

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The Stuff Of Life [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on March 11, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

It’s been awhile since we updated our website. Although Kerri disagrees with me, it feels a bit outdated. This morning, while poking around, I was struck by the “welcome” language on our Melange page: a place where we gather together to share writings, paintings, music, performances, workshops and the stuff of life. And then a statement of intention: we offer a daily blend of goodness, thought, laughter and beauty.

Recently a reader of John Pavlovitz commented that they missed John’s positive messages. John responded that he missed them, too. With the nation under attack by an authoritarian and mad-hatter oligarch, it seemed reckless to ignore the reality of our dire situation. Kerri and I feel the same way. We miss writing our positive posts but right now this is the stuff of life. It is impossible to ignore.

We were killing some time before an appointment and wandered into a pet store to visit the puppies and kitties. To our surprise there were no furry critters to pet so we wandered the store and were immediately captivated by a Veiled Chameleon. As is true of all things that capture our attention, the camera came out; a full-fledged reptile photo-shoot commenced and I have to admit, this tiny creature-from-the-black-lagoon knew how to model. It worked the camera.

Later, Kerri showed me the series and chose her favorite four from the reptile-photo-shoot. She gave each photo a name based on the animated pose of the chameleon, “Doesn’t it look like he’s saying, ‘OMG’?” It did. Body language is 55% of communication.

It made me laugh. Her four photo series captured perfectly the themes of our blogs since the election. 1) OMG!!! 2) WTF!!! 3) What were you thinking??? 4) NOW what??? I think this little critter may have solved my website design questions. He just might find himself featured as an animation on the Melange.

Someday we might return to a daily blend of goodness. Someday, if we are all fortunate, our focus will once again lean toward laughter and beauty. For now, this is the stuff of life. It is impossible to pretend otherwise.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE CHAMELEON

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A Happy Spirit [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on December 12, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

“I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.” ~ Helen Keller

We bought the chandelier a few years ago. It was meant to hang over Barney, our disintegrating backyard piano, but it wasn’t the right fit. For a single summer it lived just outside our backdoor. It’s a solar chandelier so it jumped to life for a few hours after the sunset. It never held a charge for very long.

It migrated into our sunroom, suspended just beneath the plant table. It tickled us that we had a low chandelier that nearly touched the floor. It didn’t get a ton of sunlight from its place beneath the table so it sprang to life for only a few minutes each night after we turned out the lights.

As part of the recent whirling-dervish-clean-fest, the chandelier has been elevated to a new position. Now, instead of dangling beneath the plant table, it proudly hangs above it in a prime position receiving plenty of light. Now, when the lights go out and the chandelier springs into life, it casts glorious shadows across the ceiling.

As part of my evening ritual of closing up the house, I move room-to-room pulling the plug on our many happy lights, saving the sunroom for the last. I like watching the chandelier illuminate, fulfill its purpose and cast its shadow. It both amuses me and I find it oddly comforting.

Last night, knowing that it had only a few minutes of charge since the day had been dark and cloudy, I stood and watched the shadow change as the little chandelier waxed and then slowly waned. A lifespan of a few moments, a complete arc, as the vibrant jeweled octopus stretched across the ceiling and then almost immediately faded into nothingness. The quick visit of a happy spirit. It sent me to bed with a smile and the promise of another visit in the morrow.

a work in progress

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE CHANDELIER SHADOW

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Diamonds In The Cold [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on December 6, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

The already cold temperatures are dropping like a stone. The weather app described tonight and tomorrow with a single word: frigid.

Kerri and I have a dilemma: as we age she is getting more sensitive to the heat. I am getting more sensitive to the cold. “What are we going to do?” I asked. She gave me “the look.”

Do you ever marvel, as I do, how much can be communicated in a single look?

For now, we are staying put. We will dream dreams of mountain homes in temperate zones. Places where horses roam, where trails are aplenty, where both hot-flashes and cold-shivers are nowhere to be found. We will practice the art of compromise.

I suppose it is easier for me to pile on more clothes than it is for her to find more layers to take off. I won’t get arrested if I move through the public looking like the Michelin Man but she will certainly raise eyebrows if she strips to the original layer. “I’ll get my sweater,” I say, as she dials down the thermostat.

Henrik Ibsen wrote, “The devil is compromise,” but I am learning that compromise – healthy compromise – doesn’t live in an either/or world. It is not populated by devils or angels. That is a strategy of loss, a begrudging middle-ground arrived at by settling. I’m discovering that it is possible for compromise to paint from a broader palette. Middle ground is just as easily arrived at by giving. Generosity can be mutual. Peace is a creation. Compromise begins with making offers. It’s called “relationship.”

“All compromise is based on give and take, but there can be no give and take on fundamentals…” ~ Mahatma Gandhi

Perhaps the most relevant insight of late into compromise is something I am only now understanding and my teacher is the politics of the day: the art of compromise is a terrific way of discerning what is fundamental and what is not. A few weeks ago I wrote that I’d discovered my intolerance. I found through this election that I have hard lines that I will not cross. In other words, I’ve found my fundamentals.

The rest of Gandhi’s thought is this: “…Any compromise on mere fundamentals is a surrender. For it is all give and no take.”

I believe that a good many people in this nation surrendered their fundamentals. Or, they never had them in the first place.

And so, here we are. And while we wait for the nation to either dissolve or find its hard line, we will hunker down in our happy home, control what we can control, and through sweaters and thermostats, practice the fine art of generosity, offering the mutual gift of compromise. Diamonds in the cold.

It’s A Long Story on the album This Part Of The Journey © 1998 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about CHALK DIAMONDS

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The Reward Of Slow Walking [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on September 26, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

Living so close to the lake our soil is sandy so ornamental grasses thrive in our yard. Each year, rounding the corner into fall, the grasses produce gorgeous plumes. The plumes catch the light. Amber and gold, purple and crimson. The plumes catch the wind, waving and dancing. The plumes capture my attention. I am each day mesmerized by the color and sway of the grasses.

Beyond their enthrall, I have another, perhaps more important appreciation for the ornamental grasses. They have become teachers of patience. They are reminders of right process.

Several years ago we transplanted grasses from our front yard to the back. The sandy soil and constant sun made it difficult for flowers and other plants to grow along our eastern fence line so we decided to give the grasses a try. We didn’t have the resources to buy new varieties so we split the grasses in our front yard.

The result was not good. I thought I’d stunted the grasses in the front. The first year after splitting, their usual exuberance was gone. To personify them, they seemed disheartened. The newly planted grasses in the backyard were gasping. The second year was not much better. I thought, rather than watch their slow demise, it would be better to pull them and start anew. I was mortified. I didn’t know what I was doing and it seemed I’d made everything worse.

Kerri told me to wait, to give them one more season.

In the third year, both front and back, the grasses exploded into life. Ebullient. Buoyant. Each day I’d stand in the middle of the yard and mutter, “I can’t believe it.”

Kerri watched my daily mystification and asked, “Aren’t you glad that you didn’t pull them?

Now, many years later, they are huge, thriving. Little volunteers have sprouted and prosper around the pond. In fact, I now work to keep the ornamental-grass-colonies from taking over the yard.

The grasses have fostered an environment of abundance: they have become safe haven for rabbits, DeeNCee Lullabaloo (the frog-in-residence) spends more time in the grass kingdom than in the pond. The chippies have established a protected highway running through and behind the grass-cover.

And I sit and marvel at their luminance and wind-choreography. Each year I await the coming of the plumes. They fill me with life. They remind me to allow for natural growth rather than push for a result. I hope that I’ve learned their humble lesson. No matter; they fill me with awe, the reward of slow walking, the gift of patience.

Pax, 24″x24″, mixed media on board

read Kerri’s blogpost about GRASSES

www.kerrianddavid.com

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Lean Into The Lull [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on August 16, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

“I’m trying to immerse in the lull,” Kerri said and smiled.

We find ourselves with a square or two on the calendar with nothing written in it. A wise friend suggested we embrace the lull and cultivate a bit of quiet mind. We have some big decisions looming but not yet pressing. Fortunately, we have a trip up north that meshes with our empty calendar. There’s a canoe calling our name.

“Nothing needs deciding today,” our wise friend suggested.

Krishnamurti wrote that no problem can truly be solved until the mind is still. Constantly chewing on the question rarely leads to anything but more problem creation. Panic. Or blindness to possibility.

Usually “letting go” for a day or two is a difficult task but we’re finding exhaustion is a great helper. “I don’t have a thought in my head!” I said this morning, staring into space.

“Good!” Kerri said. “That’s the whole point!”

Actions for leaning into the lull: Hug the exhaustion. Send the weighty decisions to sleep-away-camp. Keep the calendar space as empty as the mind. Paddle the canoe. Take a nap.

Peace will find us there.

Peace on the album As It Is © 2004 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes or streaming on Pandora and iHeart Radio

read Kerri’s blogpost about PEACE

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Never-In-My-Life [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on June 17, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

Never-in-my-life did I imagine that I’d sit on a deck and wile away a day peering through binoculars at a crow’s nest. We cooed and awed at the babies when they showed their beaks or flapped their young wings, the diligent parents flying to and fro to feed the bottomless bellies of their hatchlings.

Never-in-my-life did I imagine that discovering a turtle’s nest, the eggs newly hatched, could inspire the depths of wonderment that we felt. It was such an unusual find that, at first, we had no idea what we were seeing. We pondered what kind of bird nests in the ground and then it hit us. We were witness to an ancient birth rite, turtle eggs cracked open from the inside. With no mother to guide them, feed them or protect them, the newly hatched turtles somehow knew where to go, what to do. They scrambled to the safety of the river, at least that is what I imagined. We were giddy with excitement.

Last night we watched – again – the movie About Time. It remains my favorite movie of all time. Even after multiple viewings I laugh aloud and struggle not to sob along the way. Even knowing what is about to come, I am deliciously caught by surprise. It makes me yearn to go back and do things differently AND to not change a single precious moment. Both/And. Every single time we watch it. Never-in-my-life.

Enjoy life. Morsels. Alan Watts might say, the ever-present now. Last night, while setting up the coffee for the morning, I wondered how many bags of Cameron’s Velvet Moon Espresso Roast I have ground and thoroughly enjoyed. Maybe hundreds. Lately, I’m paying attention to how much I enjoy the evening ritual of closing our day by grinding coffee, the smell and the anticipation. Watching Dogga wind-down by following the chipmunk trail across the yard one last time. Never-in-my-life did I think I would love so extraordinarily so much…ordinary.

Kerri is sitting next to me – her writing interrupted, caught in the hate-stream and disbelief of a conservative’s rhetoric. It brought to mind a quote by Neil Postman, written in another era but prophetically describing our era: “…irrelevance seems to us to be filled with import, and incoherence seems eminently sane.” Entertainment posing as the news-of-the-day. Noise without substance. A manufactured thrill. Contextless content. Like a drug it is meant to keep us hooked. Nothing more, nothing less. Never-in-my-life did I imagine…

Never-in-my-life did I think I would so thoroughly delight in living upside-down, so appreciate my quirky capacity to question, my driving desire to detach from the noise. It is no wonder that I find the reality of the crows nesting so refreshing. The smell of the coffee so grounding. The miracle of turtles emerging from the earth to find the water so utterly hopeful.

read Kerri’s blogpost about ENJOY LIFE MORSELS

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Marking Time [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on May 8, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

Marking time. I stood at the large window and looked at the crowd queueing to enter the concert hall. The evening promised a blast from the past, greying seniors reaching back to touch their youth, aging bodies dressed as they might have dressed 30 years ago – and loving it. Remembering. Posing for pictures. Then and now.

It was a birthday experience, a gift. The Queen tribute band – One Vision of Queen with Marc Martel. Close your eyes and you’d think you were present with Freddie Mercury, Brian May, John Deacon, Roger Taylor… It was hard not to be catapulted back to 1980. Where were you when you first heard Bohemian Rhapsody? I knew exactly. It was visceral. I remember thinking, “What’s this?”

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality
Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see…

As time machines go, this was a great one. All the aging bodies danced and clapped, perhaps with a little less flexibility and grace but no less enthusiasm. Marking-the-time. Gratitude rippled up and down the aisles for this music that defined, informed, enriched and transported. There and back.

I see a little silhouetto of a man
Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the Fandango?

read Kerri’s blogpost about QUEEN

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