See Your Wealth [on Merely A Thought Monday]

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Not only does 20 take care of DogDog and Babycat while we are away, he always has a hot meal waiting for us when we arrive home. He is our anchor, our safety net. Our brother.

Once, a week before our wedding when we were harried and exhausted, we sent Linda a text. “Can we come to your house for dinner?” She fed us a feast. She and Jim made us laugh. We drank wine. They feast us to this day.

John and Michele watch out for us. They are the source of a thousand kindnesses. They tell stories that make us cry with laughter. They live with intention and inspire us.

When I was sick Russ showed up at our door with food. MaryKay plied us with brownies.

I call Horatio, Skip, or Arnie to stir my thinking, to seek perspective, or just because. They are always available. Always.

Dan helps us fix things, protect things, make things better. He is always on the lookout for ways to make our lives easier.

The Up-North-Gang comes to find us when we’ve been out in the canoe too long. “It’s time for snacks!” Jay says. We laugh with them and go on adventures. We drink special recipe Long Island Iced Teas and then have to sit down.

We call Jen and Brad for advice. We call them when we want to bounce ideas off sensible minds. We call them when we want to hear loving voices. They rejuvenate us. They lift our spirits. We look forward to every ounce of time spent with them.

Fact: it is the people in our lives that make our days some kind of awesome. Ask me if I am rich and I will smile and say, “Yes. Oh, yes. More than you can possibly know.”

 

read Kerri’s blog post about AWESOME

 

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Drive [on KS Friday]

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Very early in my career I drove from Kentucky to California, an epic drive that the current version of me is utterly incapable of considering. The younger version of me reveled in the drive. Windows down, music roaring, sunrise to sunset, I passed through thunderous storms, coasted down the western slope, the temperature rising as I descended. Snow, salt flats and canyon lands. I’ve rarely felt more alive and carefree.

I’m certain Kerri wrote All You Can as the soundtrack of my drive. The miles of adventure, the wildly varied landscapes rich with color and transcendent. Plains to mountain to high desert. Farm land, ranch land, no-man’s land. And the epic and endless sky! Mostly, the joy of the drive. All you can feel. All you can experience. All you can see. All you can live. It’s all there in her joyous composition. Listen. Discover the magic place, memory or not, where All You Can transports you.

 

ALL YOU CAN on the album AS IT IS available on iTunes & CDBaby

 

read Kerri’s blog post about ALL YOU CAN

 

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all you can/as it is ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood

Give Over [on DR Thursday]

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It’s called Surrender Now.

I chose it for this week’s Melange because, from this vantage point, surrender seems the only path forward. Giving over rather than giving in. Nonresistance to the forces fighting all around us.

Nonresistance is a scary word. In modern parlance is presupposes tyranny. Unjust authority run amok. It is a path of exposing suppression en route to peace. Ghandi and Martin Luther King.

The surrender in the painting, the surrender of which I write, is a much more personal variety. It is the surrender of aging. It is the surrender of pushing for outcomes and achievements, the release of long-held loss and disappointment. Giving up old stories. giving over to unknown paths and definitions.

Surrender the push-away of life as it comes. Rather, embrace the day with all its surprises. Held in grace. Surrender now.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about SURRENDER NOW

 

 

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held in grace: surrender now ©️ 2016 david robinson

Open To It [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

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I stood gobsmacked on the deck. The horizon, the straight line bank of clouds. It was a piece of contemporary art worthy of Richard Diebenkorn or Ellsworth Kelly. A study in grays and greens and purples. Monumental.

Sometimes I forget that the very best art can only approximate what already exists in nature.  Try to capture the totality of a sunset. We simply can’t do it. We can approach the feeling but our scope will always be smaller, less dimensional. Our work is to see it – to see beyond the thought of it. To dance with it. To be vulnerable to it. To share the dance.

Last night we saw author/musician Michael Perry on stage. He closed his performance with thoughts about gratitude. He told his audience that, as an artist, he is vulnerable every time that he takes the stage or publishes a book. Opening himself to the thoughts and judgements of others is not an easy thing to do. It is, however, a necessity for an artist. But, here’s the gift: vulnerability becomes gratitude. If you are never vulnerable, living in a fortress, you will never arrive at gratitude. Gratitude is forged from the fire of vulnerability.

Openness begets openness. There is a full spectrum of color, an embarrassment of riches that vibrates between vulnerability and gratitude. Grays and greens and purples. Stand on the deck and open to it. Stand on the stage and open to it. Stand with your neighbor and open to it. The best of contemporary art. Monumental.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about GRAY

 

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See The Shore [on Two Artist Tuesday]

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There is an eagle family in the neighborhood. The parents fly by daily. The young eagle, sporting its mottled feathers, visits less often.

DogDog and I went out to investigate the yard after the intense series of storms. We walked the perimeter, he sniffed the ground, I breathed in the fresh air. The storm altered the shape of our little mini beach. The carcass of an enormous fish rolled in the waves against the shore. DogDog, ever brave, was repeatedly startled by the breaking waves, jumping back, leaning forward, filling me with mirth.

Returning to the house, Kerri hush-shouted, “The Eagle!” It was the fledgling. It had found the fish. Quietly, Kerri slipped from the house with her camera and ninja-ed her way toward the shore. Just as she prepared to snap, the eagle flew.

Krishnamurti wrote that to be religious is to be sensitive to reality. DogDog and I sat at the window and watched Kerri watch the eagle as it soared against the angry sky. In that moment, there was nothing more real. DogDog, the turbulent water, the irate clouds, Kerri exhilarated, the fish rolling again and again against the shore.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about THE EAGLE

 

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Mend The Split [on Merely A Thought Monday]

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This is not my thought. It comes from many directions, is woven through many traditions, and is true no matter what form or from what port it arrives: Fear splits you.

The split is perfect. It cleaves the present moment into dreaded-future-imagining and regretful-past. What if. If only.

I tease Kerri because her imagination is wild and, given a good cleaving, will run amok with tragedy, fiery explosions, and dire consequences. She returns my ribbing when, split like a log, I tumble into hyper judgments of my past. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! It seems the gift we bring to each other in this lifetime is to pull the other back to the center, the un-hewn present moment. We help each other live in and deal with ‘now.’

Each day we take a walk. Deer cross the road ahead or freeze when they spy us. A young eagle flies overhead. The island is a haven for Monarch butterflies. They bob along as we walk, pacing us, breeze-gusted into a seeming drunk-stagger-flight-path. Drunk on the moment. Impervious to the cleave. Without fail, when we are pulled into a future fear yammer, a Monarch butterfly comes along, and our fear sputter stops. Kerri quietly pulls out her camera, tip-toes to the messenger, and snaps a photograph.

“What were we talking about?”

“I can’t remember. Nothing, I suppose.”

“Can you smell the balsam? That butterfly is gorgeous! It’s huge!”

“Yes. It’s beautiful. So beautiful.”

 

read Kerri’s blog post on BUTTERFLY MOMENTS

 

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Persevere [on KS Friday]

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To me, the album cover is like a time capsule. The woman who would become my wife looking through a camera lens into a future unimaginable.  Over twenty years later, I look back, peeking through that triangular keyhole, the impish woman, the near smirk. Does she know the path she will walk, the mountains she will climb? The falls she will take? The sturdy resilient woman she will become?

The impishness remains intact. The brat with the wicked laugh I adore even when – especially when – I am the object of her rascal-nature. The kind of perseverance developed over a lifetime. Clinging to the cliff, against all odds, holding steadfast through the storm. This mettle must have already existed in her blueprint! And, look what life built from that blueprint! A ferocious and very kind soul. An artist.

 

HOLDING STEADFAST from the album BLUEPRINT FOR MY SOUL is available on iTunes & CDBaby

 

read Kerri’s blog post about HOLDING STEADFAST

 

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holding steadfast/blueprint for my soul ©️ 1996 kerri sherwood

 

Get This [on DR Thursday}

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I loved writing and drawing Flawed Cartoon in collaboration with our dear 20. We had fun. It predated the current occupant of the White House and, this one, seems especially prescient.

Maybe Geppetto could whittle us something different or maybe that good fairy in the story could hurry up and turn the puppet into a real boy. Those are worthy cartoon ideas!

In truth, my favorite part of the drawing is the push-puppet-pig doing a take to the audience. “Are you getting this?” Even a toy pig knows when it’s being sold a line. Maybe we need a national push-puppet-pig! “You are getting this, right?”

I guess 20 and I need to go back to the drawing board. A drawing board is nothing more than a world of possibilities waiting to be revealed and it seems that our current world is a drawing board or two shy of few good possibilities. Draw a cartoon! We will, too. Together, we’ll see what we can do.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about FLAWED CARTOON

 

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flawedcartoon©️foreverbecausenoonereallycaresbydavidrobinsonandjohnkruse

Get There [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

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It is what I love about language: a single word can have two diametrically opposed meanings. I am nonplussed. Read that as you will.

If anyone tells you that communication between people is easy, they are either lying or trying to sell you something you do not need. Communication is hard. Sometimes it is impossible. Doubt me? Chuck the word ‘socialism’ into the public square and watch the fight. One word, a mass of angry or positive associations. Communication will always leave you nonplussed.

Language – words – are imprecise and malleable. They are never passive, that is, people us their words to get something (get understanding, get an idea across,  get their way…). Language is a tool of intention. Language is a tool of story. The story raging inside your head or outside is intentional. Self-talk and Other-talk – both – are in hot pursuit of something (being right, being seen, being valued…). Achieving the intention or not will inevitably leave you nonplussed.

Nonplussed seems like a good intention to pursue. Either way you go, you get there.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about NONPLUSSED

 

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Project, And Swim Away! [on Two Artists Tuesday]

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Sitting on schoolhouse beach, a brilliant clear day, Kerri began her shadow puppet play. Her characters struck poses. They shape-shifted into other characters. Like a kid watching clouds I’d say, “That one looks like a dinosaur!”  And then there was a butterfly. And Mr. Magoo!

Making sense of shapes. Making stories of the shapes in motion. The shapes became powerful or meek, threatening or pleading (“You must pay the rent!” “I can’t pay the rent!”). The shadow players fulfilling their roles.

Shadow puppets, the wayang kulit. Stories told through shadow to remind us that what we see are shadows merely – and then we fill in the gaps with what we project onto those moving shapes. Projection thrown onto projection, an infinity mirror.

Kerri’s shadow puppet Loch Ness monster tried to eat the camera. The camera was too large to fit into its mouth and so Nessie swam away. A story of triumph for the camera (it celebrated wildly) and as for the monster, the hunt goes on.

 

read Kerri’s blog post on SHADOW PLAY

 

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