Sit-In [David’s blog on KS Friday]

It’s not that we are sitting out of the 4th of July celebrations this year. We are having a good old-fashioned sit-in. Defiance in the face of an increasing hostile and corrupt administration. We are sitting-in our defiance of maga-authoritarianism from now until the threat to our democracy is eradicated.

We are both old enough to remember our nation’s enthusiastic celebration on its 200th anniversary. It was moving: tall ships sailed into New York Harbor, reenactments, parades, fairs, people coming together…Gerald Ford, the president at the time, signed presidential proclamation 4411, an affirmation to the Founding Fathers of the United States principles of dignity, equality, government by representation, and liberty.

In the subsequent 50 years the nation has gone off the rails. We’re a hairs-breadth from autocratic rule made possible by a republican party that has completely betrayed the principles of democracy affirmed by Gerald Ford. It’s difficult to wave sparklers and flags when thousands of people are wrongfully suffering in concentration camps, when the Supreme Court is actively – astonishingly – elevating a tyrant-king above the law, when citizen’s rights are under attack, when the wealth of the nation is by design moving into the pockets of the very few, when the-party-in-power is actively protecting the Epstein Class, the largest pedophile and human trafficking ring perhaps in world history.

It is only proper, truly the most American thing I can imagine under the circumstances, to sit-in. We celebrate by sitting-in the ideals of the nation, no matter how imperfectly executed to this point. We celebrate by sitting-in the intention of the nation – a government of, by, and for the people that strives for equal justice, a nation of laws and not tyrants. We sit-in the promise of equality. We sit-in the radical paradigm of freedom-and-justice-for-all. As we sit-in we will tell stories of Kerri’s dad, a prisoner of war in WWII, my uncle Del who fought in the same war, both of our ancestors fought against fascism. Both nearly perished. They were hardy people that held the line against a fascist takeover of the world. In their lives they pushed back against the likes of Joseph McCarthy and his chicken-little-cries of “Communism!” We hear the same chicken-little-cries today from fox-and-friends and an administration that has grown so fearful of the vote that they would control it, politicians choosing their voters rather than the other way around. In an act of cowardice. absent of ethic and integrity, they dust off their old strawman communism in the hopes that fearmongering will save them from accountability.

It is our turn to sit in the fire. It is our turn to hold the line. We will sit-in and write and call our legislators. We will sit-in and talk with our neighbors and friends. We sit-in and have hot conversations, calling out the lies, refusing complacency or normalizing this horror show. It is our turn to reaffirm the promise of democracy, a promise currently slipping through our fingers. We will challenge gaslighting. We will call out the grift. We sit-in the truth of our diverse nation and support the long-term health of the people of the nation. We will sit-in the legacy of courage of our ancestors.

We will sit-in The United States of America – and not allow it, without a fight, to become the land of the privileged-few and the home of the afraid.

Sometimes an act of defiance looks like celebration and celebration looks like an act of defiance. Our nation’s celebration is rooted in an act of defiance, a Declaration of Independence from a tyrant king. Sometimes protecting one’s home requires a good old-fashioned sit-in, a living protest, the exercise of a fundamental right of a free citizen. Sitting-in-the-fire, speaking up, pushing back, guarding the vote, protecting civil rights…: the best possible way of celebrating the dream and founding principles of this nation.

FIGURE IT OUT on the album RIGHT NOW ©️ 2010 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blog about FIREWORK FLOWER

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That Is Everything [David’s blog on KS Friday]

On these unseasonably hot summer days, Dogga can be found lounging by the air conditioner. Surrounded by his favorite toys, snowman, candy cane, baby, bone and red, he basks in the artificial arctic breeze. He is, by nature, a snow dog. Winter is his preferred season, snow is his favorite couch.

Today, the 4th of July, is his twelfth birthday. We can hardly believe it since it seems like only yesterday that, while watching the Dog Dock Jump at the local 4th festivities, we talked of someday having a dog. In our telling of the story – we are artists, after all – Dogga was born at the exact moment that we were dreaming of him. I had not yet moved to the Midwest: three months later, driving the Budget truck across the country, loaded with all my worldly possessions (paintings, an easel and a chair), we saw a sign for “Aussie Pups” and, promising that we’d only pet the puppies, we stopped.

Dogga and I moved into our new home at the same time.

We’ve grown grey beards together. Neither one of us runs as fast or tolerates the heat like we used to. He enjoys standing in the middle of the backyard barking in the four directions just to see if anyone barks in reply. I sometimes feel like this blog is my version of doing the same thing.

He has grown to fear loud noises, thunder and fireworks, so we stay close-by on his birthday, on the 4th of July. And, truth be told, hanging with Dogga is more fun than watching the Dog Dock Jump or the Pie Eating Contest or cooing at the fireworks with the crowd. His enthusiasm is infectious. His bright eyes and open face, his unbridled joy, remind me of the good things in the world. His agenda is not hidden: it is loving us.

He is our reason to celebrate – simple, pure and honest – at a time that a dark shadow clouds our nation’s celebration, a time when almost nothing is simple, pure or honest.

Our agenda is loving him – on his birthday and everyday. That is all. That is everything.

DIVINE INTERVENTION on the album RELEASED FROM THE HEART © 1995 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about DOGGA

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Light Ten Candles [on Two Artists Tuesday]

I never tire of telling this story. 4th of July, 2013, Kerri and I walked through the festival booths and carnival rides, we avoided the stages where bands were covering well-known tunes, we passed the pie-eating contest, and stopped at the jumping dog competition. Dogs running and leaping through the air into a big pool of water. Doggie long jump.

While we watched the antics, we talked of someday having a dog of our own. We dreamed that our dog would be black – only a black dog for us – and we’d name it Earl. Or Erle. It is our shared middle name so it seemed only natural to give the pup the family name. Little did we know, on that day, I imagine at that precise moment, our Tripper-Dog-Dog-Dog was born. Dogga is a 4th of July pooch.

Three months later, driving the moving van loaded with my worldly possessions across the country, just after entering Wisconsin, we passed a sign that said, “Aussie pups.” We weren’t ready for a dog. I told Kerri that I thought it would be safe to look since Aussies are never black. We flipped the van around, drove up the long farm driveway, jumped out and greeted farmer Don. “We’d love to see the puppies!’ we chimed in unison.

“Well, I only have one left,” he said, “And no one wants him because he’s black.”

I think it was the first time that Kerri punched my shoulder and gave me that look.

And, although we weren’t ready, I can’t imagine life without our black dog that refused to answer to the name Earle. He’s as quirky and complex as we are, more sensitive if that is possible. He taught us what to call him, the first on a long list of lessons he’s had to teach us.

Today we light ten candles on the Dogga cake. We celebrate the best u-turn we ever made. We toast our willingness to take the leap before being ready. Our life together is made infinitely richer for it. Now, who wants cake?

read Kerri’s blogpost about DOGGA BIRTHDAY

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Intend Renewal [on DR Thursday]

Context is everything. When we chose this picture for our Melange, I thought I’d probably write about renewal. Out of devastation, a phoenix rises. Or, perhaps the kind of renewal that doesn’t just happen but requires a bit of scraping, new soil, scattered seed, and hay-net to prevent the birds from feasting on the seed. Intentional renewal.

Context. Between the day we chose this photo and this cool quiet morning that I’m attempting to write about it, the mass shooting at Highland Park happened. I’m finding it nearly impossible to write about renewal.

Highland Park is not far away. We attend the annual art fair on their small-town Main Street. We’ve driven through 4 times in the last two weeks.

We were about to go out the door and walk to our local 4th of July festival when the news arrived. We looked at each other, no words necessary. We kicked off our shoes. We decided to stay home. Going to a place where people congregate – like grocery stores or elementary schools or places of worship or movie theatres or parades meant to celebrate our “independence” – seemed unsafe.

Context.

HIghland Park was one of three locations in the USA that experienced mass shootings on the 4th of July. No, check that. Four locations. Even as I type, Kerri brought news of the mass shooting that happened here – not so many blocks away – on the 4th. Staying home was a good choice. Oops. Check that. More news. There were eight. Oops (again). Check that. Eleven.

I cannot write about renewal but, for the third time this week, I am tapping out thoughts about interconnectivity.

It is a trick of language to say, “I broke my toe” and believe that only the isolated body-part called “toe” is injured while everything else is fine. Except it’s not fine. An injury anywhere to the body is an injury to the whole body. Everything is impacted. Everything adjusts. The pain-impulse you feel in your toe has already completed a round trip to your brain. Your posture adjusts so expect your hip or back to be sore tomorrow. Your spatial awareness goes on high alert: it’s best to avoid toe contact with any immovable object. If you desire to understand interconnectivity, consider how your whole body might respond if you happen to stub your seeming-isolated-and-already-broken-toe. Whole body response. Imagine it.

There have been over 300 mass shootings in the United States this year. So, the single most puzzling comment to come out of HIghland Park? “How could it happen here?” As if “here” is somehow isolated from Uvalde or Buffalo or Boulder or…it’s a long list and growing.

The whole nation-body is injured. It’s the illusion of isolation that underpins the mad-thought that more guns, unrestricted, are a solution to gun violence. Build a fortress? Isolate? Better doors? Arm yourself? It’s only the toe.

Where exactly is the boundary of “here?” And why would it be okay for “it” to happen “there”?

We’re all here. There is no “there” that is “safe.” Context is everything.

Perhaps I am writing about renewal. The intentional kind that requires some leadership scraping, new soil, seed, and a whole-body community united and relentless in their demand for proper protections from the insanity of guns.

read Kerri’s blogpost bout NEW GRASS

may you © 2015 david robinson