A Time Of Water [David’s blog on KS Friday]

And just before the autumn equinox, the last day lily had her brilliant orange moment in the sun and then closed up shop for the winter. It was poignant. We watched her drink in the sun and then fold.

The nights grow longer than the day. The plumes on the grasses are radiant when they catch the evening light. The leaves on the pepper plant have yellowed. The sweet potato vine, once a vibrant uniform lime green, now displays a pattern of color, red-brown and crimson.

We’re emerging from a few weeks of sickness, a bad cold moved in and took much of the wind from our sails. Our limited energy allowed for a few shaky-leg slow walks by the lake. Slow walking allows for better seeing. I marvel at how unimportant most things become – how my perspective simplifies and clarifies when I have limited energy; when my body demands my attention. We sat in our adirondack chairs facing the sun. I felt like the day lily, drinking it in. The sun is good medicine.

Better seeing. Clarity.

I did not know that the word “winter” comes from an old Germanic word and means “time of water.” The snow, the ice, the freezing rain. We pull inside. We retreat to the root to recuperate and gather energy for renewal.

Each week Kerri chooses one of her compositions for our Friday posts. This week, in trying to decide between two pieces, she chose both: one piece from her first album, entitled In Transition, and one from her most recent album – her 15th – entitled Transience. I was moved when listening to the pieces side-by-side: the same theme separated by a decade and a half of life. Transitory life, cycles of production and retreat, generation and rest, exploring and recognizing.

Transitory life looks differently when you are older than it does when you are young.

We are having an extended conversation with our son about artistry. He is an EDM artist and is taking full possession of his gifts. It’s thrilling to watch him move from becoming to being. He is fully inhabiting a time of fire. He is running fast. Chasing.

We – Kerri and I – are fully in a time of water, from being to becoming. We are slow walking. Gathering energy. No longer trying to arrive in a life that is constantly moving. We are the dream we chase. Appreciating the transitory. Savoring our moment, this one glorious never-to-have-again day. We are like the last day lily drinking in the sun and storing that warm heart energy for the coming of spring.

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE DAY LILY

likesharesupportthankyou

The Heat [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

“One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious. The latter procedure, however, is disagreeable and therefore not popular.” ~ Carl Jung

If you have not yet seen it, the short 18 minute documentary of Bernie Sanders in red-red-red West Virginia is worth watching. It is illuminating to witness what is possible when the misinformation bubble is breached. Though we’ve been pitted against each other, our division is not between the red and the blue. Not really. We are united in wanting a government that works for us.

I shuddered last night when I heard Mark Elias say that he no longer believes that media, universities, law firms…are capitulating to the demands of the dictator-wannabe. He now believes that they are collaborators. They offer no resistance because they are collaborators. Who would willingly sacrifice their first amendment right to free speech, freedom of the press…unless it profited them mightily to do so? Mark Elias’ contention certainly answers my question about the missing congress: over the weekend we read a public message from the president to the attorney general instructing her to prosecute his enemies. No actual crime needed. That he was not immediately impeached is sad proof of Mark Elias’ assertion. Profit over Constitution. Personal interest over sacred values. We heard more than one commentator say something akin to, “This makes Watergate look like kindergarten.”

One of the symbolic meanings of a pyramid shape is integration. Bernie Sanders sat at table with people who are economically drowning. They want the same things that I do. They want their rights protected. They do not want to be lied to by their government or their media. They want to be represented and not exploited.

This hot fire in which we live has the power to reduce this nation to ash. But it also has the possible power of alchemy, to forged a union of the red and the blue. The heat might wake us up. We just might realize that we are being distracted by demonizing each other. It might wake us up to how thoroughly we’re being exploited by those who claim to be representing our interests while simultaneously selling us down the river.

Pie in the sky? The corruption isn’t being hidden. The cowardice isn’t being masked. The voters in West Virginia are sitting at a table with Bernie Sanders and recognizing they have much more in common than they’ve been led to believe.

Prayer of Opposites, 48″x48″, acrylic on board

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE PYRAMID

likesharesupportthankyou

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

And where was I before the day
That I first saw your lovely face?
Now I see it everyday
And I know that I am
I am, I am the luckiest

~ Ben Folds, The Luckiest

Late at night. We talked of going back in time. Way back. Way back to the day before a single event changed the trajectory of our lives. “Who was I on the day before?” she asked. “Who would I be now?” After a moment she added, “I want to remember what that felt like; what she felt like.”

This past decade has been the single hardest period of my life. It has also been the best. I now understand that, previous to this era, I was a dedicated runner-from-life. In grinding me to a fine powder, this magnificent universe has brought me to a standstill. Standing still.

I slow-walked through a grove of trees. I set down my backpack when I had one-of-those-moments: I wanted to be nowhere else, doing nothing else. I have those a lot lately.

I don’t get many things right the first time
In fact, I am told that a lot
Now I know all the wrong turns
The stumbles and falls brought me here

Who was I on the day before?

I wish I could reach back through time and tell him not to worry so much. I wish I could tell him what it feels like to be here, that all his running and lostness would eventually take him to stillness. Standing still even in the midst of chaos. A lover of simple things. I wish I could tell him that, even if he cannot yet see it, he is – and always has been – the luckiest.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HEART

likesharesupportsubscribemanythanks

It’s Only Natural [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

This is a photograph of diversity: thriving tomato plants, basil, rosemary, cilantro, parsley, peppers, and autumn clematis. Look closer and you will spot bees, caterpillars and garden spiders. The chipmunk trail runs directly behind the bench. It is a tale of interconnectivity. Biodiversity is nature’s secret of success. Symbiotic relationships make the garden flourish.

Monoculture, on the other hand, all but guarantees a system’s collapse. It is true in nature. It is true of us as well; as human beings have learned again and again when soiling the nest, we are not separate from nature. We are not above it all. We are one thin ozone away from annihilation.

The word “symbiotic” comes from the Greek word for “living together.” Our democratic experiment is a test of human cultural symbiosis. For those of us who value actual history over made-up dross, it is undeniable that innovation has always thrived at the crossroads of cultures and the USA is an intentional crossroads.

White supremacy has been an ugly thorn in our democratic saddle since the nation’s inception but thankfully, until now, has never held the reins of power. As we watch the ICE horror story of racial profiling – astonishingly permitted by the Supreme Court, the assault on DEI, the erasure of people of color from our history, the vilification of Democrats (the party of diversity), we are witness to the insane attempt to force a monoculture into existence. And, as the insane – and inane – attempt at whitewashing our very colorful nation progresses, we step ever closer to our system’s collapse.

White fragility is at the epicenter of white supremacy. It claims to be a master race but fundamentally fears looking at its face in the mirror. It flees criticism. It touts being atop a pyramid built upon the labor and innovation of everyone else. It purports to represent the average citizen while embracing the economics of oligarchy (neoliberalism) and the politics of division. It knows how to pillage and rape and rig the game but understands almost nothing of building true strength, power, community and unity. It doesn’t have the first idea of the reality of symbiosis; it swirls in the fantasy-strut of mythical cowboy independence.

It is not a mystery that our democratic garden is in danger of dying. Perhaps, if we survive this race to destruction, we will at last be able to look in the mirror, see-embrace-and-deal with our full history. We will insist on building our home on the truth. All of it. Perhaps we will rise from the ashes without the idiotic idea that any race is superior to any other and truly, fully embrace the beating heart of our democratic union: that all people are created equal, that all people are protected equally under the law, that it is our experiment in diversity that makes – and has made – this nation great all along.

Symbiosis. Diversity. The same relationships that make our garden thrive will make our nation thrive. It’s only natural.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE GARDEN BENCH

likesharesupportcommentsubscribemanythanks

Ho-Ho-Ho [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Evidently the elves had a bit too much nog and crashed the Wishing Palace into a tree. They must have been flying without a license since they seem to have crashed-and-run, leaving the Palace wedged into a tree with one runner missing. Will Santa be pissed? I’m not sure. Is jolly ole St. Nick capable of being cross? I imagine the sudden loss of The Wishing Palace during an drunken-elfen-joy-ride might raise his ire. In any event, I’d love to hear the whopper the elves tell Santa to explain the crash. Ho-Ho-Ho!

On second thought, instead of fleeing the scene, I’m not sure why the elves didn’t rush into the Palace and make a wish for an immediate full-Palace-repair. I mean, what good is a Wishing Palace if the wishes made in the Palace – especially wishes made by the elves that drive it – aren’t certain to come true? At the very least they could wish to keep the wreckage a secret from Santa – at least until they sober up and figure out how to repair the damage and return the Palace to its parking spot at the North Pole.

Apollo’s son, Phaeton, took the sun-chariot out for a spin and, like the elves, it was too much for him to handle. He couldn’t control the horses. Zeus had to strike Phaeton with a lightning bolt before the lad drove the chariot into the ground, scorching the earth in the process. If Apollo could enter the Wishing Palace he’d certainly wish to go back in time so he might prevent his son from taking his fatal joy ride.

The annals of time are filled with stories of incompetence at the helm.

The current administration, like Phaeton or the elves, have the reigns of the nation and have taken it out for a wild ride. Despite their bravado, despite the tale that they spin, it is increasingly clear that they are either too full of nog to hold democracy’s course or they do not have the fortitude to drive a constitutional republic.

In either case, we will very soon find ourselves lodged in a tree or can expect a lightning bolt that will end the joy ride. We can only hope that it’s merely a runner that we lose and that the crash sobers us. We can only hope that we have the wherewithal to repair what is broken. Since wishes seem empty at this point, we can at least hope for a republican party that remembers that governance begins with communicating with the other side. The art of compromise – the epicenter of democracy – begins with coming to the table willing to discuss solutions.

In any event, it’s not much fun listening to the whoppers that the republicans are telling, the fomenting of violence and division, their dedication to flying blind by hiding the economic indicators and jobs numbers. One thing is certain: to explain the crash they’ll no-doubt blame Obama or Biden or democrats. Taking responsibility for their actions is not in their wheelhouse. They’ll crash the Palace and run amok blaming everything under the sun but themselves. In response to their grand sham, I suggest we be like Santa and meet their reckless incompetence with a sober vote and a hearty Ho-Ho-Ho!

read Kerri’s blog about THE WISHING PALACE

likesharesupportcommentHOHOHO!

So Here It Is [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Well, you’ve cracked the sky, scrapers fill the air
But will you keep on building higher
‘Til there’s no more room up there
Will you make us laugh, will you make us cry?
Will you tell us when to live, will you tell us when to die?

I know we’ve come a long way
We’re changing day to day
But tell me, where do the children play?

~ Cat Stevens, Where Do The Children Play

Kerri regularly tells me to “gear down.” She’s asking me to simplify my thoughts so they are more accessible. It’s the reason I nodded knowingly when I read this in Thom Hartmann’s newsletter:

“The reason we’re at a pivotal moment in America is because most people don’t know how to answer this question: “How do you know when you’re really no longer living in a democracy?”

He makes a great point. Even though we have tanks rolling down civilian streets, masked thugs plucking people without warrant or due process, concentration camps popping up in swamps, the collapse of checks-and-balances, the intentional scrubbing of our history, an all-out assault on diversity and civil rights, a Supreme Court regularly ruling against the Constitution in support of a single man consolidating power… “Up until the last few days, most Americans didn’t think we’d lost our freedoms or are about to.”

He continues: “But everybody knows Jimmy Kimmel. So the new understanding is: ‘You know you don’t live in a free country any more when comedians can no longer criticize the president.‘”

So, here it is. Geared down so all can understand. We don’t live in a free country anymore. We can either mumble our way into autocracy or we can open our mouths and regain our freedoms. As Stephen Colbert said, “We’re all Jimmy Kimmel now.”

read Kerri’s blogpost about FREE SPEECH

smack-dab © 2025 kerrianddavid.com

likesharesupportthankyou

Black and White [David’s blog on KS Friday]

“Despair is a narcotic. It lulls the mind into indifference.” ~ Charlie Chaplin

It turns out that there are some things that are black or white. For instance, we either have free speech or we don’t. We either have the protections of due process and habeas corpus or we don’t. We either adhere to the Constitution or we don’t. We either have a free press or we don’t. We either champion the truth or we don’t.

We either have a democracy or we don’t.

Right now, in this moment, where all of the above are concerned, we don’t.

I’m still shaking my head at the 90 million voters who did not turn out to vote in the last election. Were they indifferent? There is certainly enough despair to go around given the sucking of wealth from the many into the hands of the few. We either exercise our power in democracy by voting or we don’t.

The system is either built for all of us or it is tilted toward the privileged few. And that seems to be the line of discord in our short history, the rope that we perpetually tug in our incessant internal war: who do we mean when we say, “We the people”? It either includes all of us in the promise or it doesn’t.

We either protect the dream or we don’t.

Lately, in a mass capitulation of courage by corporate America, the legal profession, universities…we’ve learned that despair is not the only narcotic that lulls the mind into indifference. Profit might be mightier than despair in producing indifference. We’re literally seeing our nation sell its soul. It’s become abundantly clear what is valued and what is not.

Democracy, for the morbidly wealthy, seems no match for private gain. It’s up to the rest of us to wake up, shake off indifference and loudly remind the gluttonous few that fascism has no place in a democratic republic, that our rights and protected freedoms are not for sale or to be used as leverage for the corporate merger.

We either protect the dream now or we lose it. We’re standing at the line. All of us. It makes no difference if you are on the blue team or the red. The orchestrated collapse of our democracy, the loss of protected freedoms, of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, the erasure of our nation of laws and not men…applies equally to all of us.

It turns out that somethings are not black or white, they are black and white.

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

read Kerri’s blogpost on BLACK AND WHITE

likesharesupportcommentsubscribethankyou

The More Difficult Path [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

“Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair, but manifestations of strength and resolution.” ~ Kahlil Gibran

As her parting words when it was time for us to go, Beaky always said, “Be kind to each other.” She said it more as a wish or a prayer than as wise counsel.

In this latest era, we’re hearing a lot about hate speech. I believe Beaky’s farewell sentiment came from the experience of a long life: she knew that hostility and indifference are easy. Meanness is low hanging fruit, easily picked. Kindness, on the other hand, requires dedicated intentionality. It is a mandate to relinquish senseless power games.

Her parting words might as well have been, “Be conscious. Give your attention to each other.”

In the school of “Your Words Matter,” there is a clear distinction between the language of violence and the language of benevolence: hate speech rejects personal responsibility. Kindness requires an embrace of personal responsibility.

It is easy to point a finger and spew word-bile. It is satisfying to score a point and walk away. Demolition is elementary. It requires no special talent or skill.

Decency, kindness, generosity…considering the impact of words and actions on others – is certainly the more difficult path. To be aware of the impact of words and actions takes…well…awareness. Awareness and concern for others takes courage, strength and resolution – and is nothing less than the blossom of respect for your self.

With some corrections, it is finished: 66&19, 31.5″x36″ mixed media

read Kerri’s blogpost about the DAISY BUTTON

likesharesupportsubscribethankyou

An Experience [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

“In the modern era, one of the most active metaphors for the spiritual project is “art.” ~ Susan Sontag (via The Marginalian)

It was within a meditation on silence that Susan Sontag wrote this thought. With planes and trains and automobiles, with cell phones and 24 hour news cycles, with weed whackers and garbage trucks and sirens, with podcasts to plug into and streaming on demand…opportunities for silence are rare, indeed.

All of my life I have retreated to my studio to “get quiet.” I’ve learned – and it seems to me a no-brainer -that there is a direct connection between silence-of-the-mind and presence. And, the experience of ‘something-bigger-than-me” can only happen in the present moment. It’s a direct experience, not an abstraction.

Marion Milner – under the pen name of Joanna Field – wrote that happiness cannot be found in the narrow focus of purpose because it lives “out there”, it promises fulfillment somewhere in a distant imagined future. It’s only in the broad focus of the senses that happiness can be found because it is immediate. Happiness is only possible/available/accessible in-the-here-and-now. It’s an experience, not an abstraction.

Art brings us into the present moment. Art has the power to break through isolating mental abstractions into the shared space of experience.

Joseph Campbell wrote that our endeavor in meaning-making is the opposite of our distant ancestors. For them, meaning was made (or found) through the group. We are tasked with finding it within ourselves.

“It” is never found in insistent preachers or rule-books or exhibitions of righteousness. These are the noisy aspects of the narrow focus erected on a platform of “should”.

If “it” is to be found, if “it” is to be experienced, inner silence is the threshold.

Take a walk in nature. Become captive to the color of the leaves. Entice the quiet found in the studio. These are the secrets of the composer whose music lifts your spirit, the poet who stirs your humanity, the dancer who challenges your idea of what’s possible…all bringing you into the dazzling present moment. It’s a place the artist knows well, an experience beyond words.

read Kerri’s blogpost about RED LEAVES

likesharesupportsubscribethankyou

Great And Immeasurable [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

It was so long between sightings of the frog that I began to think I’d imagined it. The first sighting, so late in the year, long after we’d stopped looking for a frog in the pond, seemed miraculous. And then the frog seemingly vanished.

Days passed. Weeks. We thought that it was a traveler and had simply stopped in our tiny pond for an overnight. Or, maybe, it was pond shopping and considered ours to be lacking.

And then, a few days ago, we tip-toed to the water’s edge, and found our frog enjoying the shallows. It is without doubt the smallest frog we’ve ever had in residence and so we named it Little. Surprisingly, Little tolerated Kerri’s photo shoot without a single complaint or sudden disappearance into the murky deep. We were giddy with excitement.

At a time of historical chaos and national antipathy, we experience surprising moments of affirmation that the center – that our center – is solid: that we were giddy with excitement at the appearance of a little frog in our tiny pond was just such a moment.

“If you will stay close to nature, to its simplicity, to the small things hardly noticeable, those things can unexpectedly become great and immeasurable.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

read Kerri’s blogpost about LITTLE

likesharesupportcommentthankyou