A Successful Ripple [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on January 15, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

In 1890 Eugene Schieffelin released 60 starlings in Central Park. A year later he released another 40. Starlings are not native to the United States and Schieffelin “…hoped to bring all the birds mentioned in Shakespeare’s plays to North America…” It is estimated that 100 million flocks descended from his original 100 starlings. One of the 100 million took respite in our neighbors tree and their sheer number stopped us in our tracks. Beautiful individually, beautiful en masse.

That’s quite a successful ripple. It reminded me of Paul who taught me never to underestimate my power to influence the lives of others. We never know the reach of our actions, the power of our words. The ripples we launch.

A lover of metaphor, I am given to researching symbolism, the genesis of every story. I was unusually moved by the starlings, by the unity of their movement in flight, so, imagining that they were messengers, I wondered what might their message be:

“When the Starling Spirit Animal comes into your life, it suggests careful consideration as to with whom you spend time and how much they influence your thoughts and behavior. It’s great being part of a sizable group, but not every single member has a positive impact on you. You need friends. That’s normal. But always take care with whom you let into your inner circle. Stay with folks who support your growth and positive thinking.”

I laughed when I read it. Could there be a more pertinent message for our divisive times? “Take care with whom you let into your inner circle.” We’re in the process of circling our wagons. We’re recently very particular about the information we plug into, the conversations we entertain, and with whom.

And then there was this relative to starlings as symbol:

“Don’t be afraid to put your truth forward. It takes a little practice, but relationships require clarity.”

As I’ve written, these troubled times have provoked quite the ongoing debate within Kerri’s and my Melange. What are the boundaries of what we write? “Put your truth forward…relationships require clarity.”

I was also amused to read this:

“Starling Spirit Animal offers insight on how you can remain assertive, but not overbearing.”

Ask Kerri. I could definitely use some insight in not being overbearing and the starlings are no doubt great masters and a worthy place to start.

And so, 135 years ago, Eugene Schieffelin let fly a starling ripple and his messengers recently landed in my neighbor’s tree which prompted me to ponder these very worthy missives:

“Put your truth forward.“

“…remain assertive, but not overbearing.”

“…take care with whom you let into your inner circle.“

read Kerri’s blogpost about STARLINGS

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Epicenters of Mattering [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on May 9, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

If you asked me why we write I would tell you that it is because of Lydia. After reading my post Arrive, she must have sensed my low spirits and took the time to comment: Perhaps you have already arrived. Breathe. Feel the awe. In every moment. It is because of Alex who reads what I write everyday and bothers to let me know. Buffalo Bob. A simple like, telling me, “I am out here and what you write matters to me.”

Writing is a relationship like painting is a relationship like music is a relationship. It’s a dynamic feedback loop. A younger me would have told you that the impulse to create is internal; the current version of me wonders if there really is any such separation as internal and external. There is no actor without an audience, no writer without a reader. It’s a matter of mattering. To each other. Ultimately, the artist imperative is to share. It is hard to explain. Ours is essential. It is urgent. It is undeniable. It is an inner necessity – a word that I do not use lightly. To deny it would be to die – a statement that I do not offer lightly. Yet, without an audience, a reader, there would be no point.

We recently asked Rob his thoughts about how to get our words beyond our bubble. We love our bubble, our community of dedicated readers and listeners. However, the changes in the world of arts-as-a-business have made the work we were once paid for free for all takers. Although technology brings our words and music and art to audiences all over the world, it has also left us financially insecure. It’s an oddly mixed message of mattering. So many listeners and readers, so few pennies. Rob and others have been knocking on our noggins to open a Patreon membership. It’s taken awhile for us to embrace the realities of this brave new world.

Networks and relationships. Worth. Value. Mattering. Each of us an epicenter with lines of connection running in all directions. Sharing. Giving. Asking. So very appreciative of a “thumbs up,” so deeply moved when our words come back at us with a loving reminder to Feel the Awe. Breathe.

Canopy, 48″ x 48″, acrylic on canvas

read Kerri’s blogpost about NETWORKS

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Beyond Words [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on May 2, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Truth, like time itself, is a product of a conversation man has with himself about and through the techniques of communication he has invented.” ~ Neil Postman, Amusing Ourselves To Death

I’ve felt for months the need to apologize to J. We were having a conversation about truth – and notions of god – and in his current place-on-the-path he’s necessarily seeking absolutes. For him, relative truth smacks of falsehood or some loosey-goosey scary philosophy. He’s looking for a hard rock on which to build his house of wisdom. I was flip rather than helpful. How do you begin to discuss truth as a cultural orientation or a fluid marker that changes with time? When I was J’s age, truth could be established with a photograph. Not so anymore.

Breck, our little quaking aspen tree has come to represent a form of truth for me. Breck almost didn’t make it. We brought her home from the high mountains of Colorado and for a few years she lived and struggled in a big pot. She barely survived the first place we planted her. It was not a good location so we moved her to different soil where she’d enjoy more sun. And now she is flourishing. Last year she grew more than three feet taller.

Breck’s truth/health has very little to do with hard answers to abstract questions. For her – and me – truth is found in relationships; her environment. The right spot. Good soil. Rejuvenating sun. She brings an impulse to life: perseverance. Tenacity. Adaptability. We love her and I believe she “knows” that, too. Love is a truth that knows no absolute. I couldn’t explain that to J because I was playing with him, bringing levity to his seriousness.

And, in truth (what other word can I use?), I have become a doubter that any serious conversation about truth or gods can happen through something so limited as language. That’s what I should have expressed to J. I should have taken him outside to see the stars.

Now, when I want to have those conversations with myself, when I am seeking a better question, I walk on the trail next to the river. I turn my face to the sun. I try to detach myself from the clocks and lists and tv debates. I look at Breck quaking in the wind. I await each spring for the buds to appear on her limbs. There’s truth-beyond-words in her life-cycle, the return of her leaves and her captivating shimmer dance with the breezes.

Angels At Our Side, 24″ x 48″ mixed media on two panels

read Kerri’s blogpost about BRECK

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Where It Ends [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on April 1, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

Today is the day when hoaxsters and jokesters and pranksters abound. It’s the unofficial-official national day of the trickster.

Historically on this day it’s best to doubt everything that you are told, to check the sources of your information. To join in the joking and let off some steam with a bit of harmless mischief.

It’s much harder in this day-and-age since everyday is April fools day! The mischief is not harmless. With so many dedicated conspiracy theorists running amok, shysters selling bibles, serial liars celebrated, vapid minds taken seriously, it’s difficult to tell where the fool’s day begins and where it ends. It’s tough to know where the fools begin and where they end.

So, on this day as on all others, it’s a best practice to doubt everything that you are told [as a rule of thumb, it’s not a bad practice everyday to doubt everything that you think!], to religiously check the sources of your information and to check the sources of information promoted as religious.

Fools and tricksters are meant to make us open our eyes; to step back and take ourselves less seriously. To help us discern between the sacred and the profane. They are meant to shock the system when the system begins to believe that it’s “all that.” They are meant to help us laugh at ourselves.

Play safe out there. Have fun. It is my deepest wish that we might lighten up ever so slightly and learn to chuckle at our foibles. I know, I know…pie in the sky. First we must learn to distinguish between a foible and a strength, a truth and a lie, a joke and a virtue, an ignoramus and a learner, propaganda and news.

Until then, we are all destined to be April’s fools.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FOOLS

[Christopher Wool’s painting, Fool, at the Milwaukee Art Museum]

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Embrace The Accident [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on May 23, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

I am a big believer in happy accidents. Kerri didn’t intend to take this photo. A vibrant shock of red thrust into a field of green. I’m tempted to slap a title on it and enter it into a contemporary photography exhibition.

I’ve read that serendipity, an “unplanned fortunate discovery,…is a common occurrence throughout the history of product invention and scientific discovery.” It’s also a common occurrence throughout the history of art. It’s also a common occurrence throughout the history of…history. We have experiences and then we make meaning of them. Not the other way around.

I suppose we pride ourselves on our capacity “to know” so we forget that all knowledge is the result of a stumble, a discovery found at the far end of curiosity, exploration or an outright mistake. The point of a hypothesis (to borrow a term from Quinn) is to cultivate serendipity. Try it and see what happens.

I’ve been following the conversation in the tech-o-sphere about the sudden blossom of the very lucrative job “phrase engineer.” Human beings attempting through trial and error to learn how best to converse with the technology we’ve created. AI. ChatGpt. The unspoken goals are (not surprisingly) efficient and effective communication. There are now several sites with useful phrases, conversational hints, Youtubes abound with guidance for best ways to ask better questions, quickly eliciting the best result: an answer. It’s glorious and reminds me of old 3rd grade language primers or my high school foreign language class – only more enthusiastic.

I am among the millions who hope beyond hope that someone-out-there bumbles into the secret of effective communication. Perhaps if we discover how to communicate with artificial intelligence there will be a profound blowback and we will, serendipitously, discover the secret of easy communication with each other. Generosity. Empathy. Kindness. How-you-say-what-you-say matters.

“AI, tell me what you see and I will listen with an open mind and heart.” I know, I know. More pie-in-the-sky. But as a dedicated believer in happy accidents, I’m given to think that anything is possible.

read Kerri’s blogpost about RED ON GREEN

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Foster Appreciation [on KS Friday]

Posted on May 12, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

In addition to the bunny nest in our yard, I discovered some abandoned nests behind the tall grasses that line the fence. Elegant and intricate constructions meant to protect new life.

The distinction is in the words “meant to”. The critters creating the nests are not necessarily concerned with the aesthetics. Their concern is function. We two-legged critters can’t stroll down a beach without stacking stones, organizing driftwood, or picking the most interesting rock to nestle into the curious pocket found in the wood. Our action is purely to communicate. To leave a trace. To make a mark. To convey something beautiful.

I suppose it’s the same reason that critters make nests. They can’t help it. Nature demands their construction. New life is coming.

We can’t help it, either. Our nature demands playing with possibility. Function need not be a part or party to our frolic. Our creative impulse needs expression. Our active imagination, our spontaneous recognition of opportunity, an intrinsic curiosity and hands-with-thumbs make even the most mundane stroll a canvas-for-the-painting.

We have friends who tell me that they lack creativity. I know better. I’ve walked with them through the woods, across frozen lakes, and strolled down beaches. Rocks are stacked. Flowers gathered. Wood is spontaneously arranged. Not because a nest is necessary. No. Their gathering of texture and color and curiosity is meant to foster appreciation. Inside and out. The function is enjoyment.

No other reason is necessary. No other reason is more essential to us two-legged critters. Nothing better defines us than our innate desire-to-play with the great “What if…”

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about STONE AND WOOD

dawn at crab meadow/blueprint for my soul © 1997 kerri sherwood

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Stack The Impossible [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on March 28, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

We watched the video of Jaxon climbing the ladder of the red plastic slide. His momma said, “Is that your big boy slide?” Jaxon said, “Big boy slide.” Pandemonium. “He said it!” his father exclaimed, “I think he said it!”

Big boy slide. A first phrase. The moment when what’s necessary becomes what’s possible. It’s something we take for granted every day. The utter impossibility of spoken language. Sounds uttered in sequence that somehow make sense. Of course, we’re also quite capable of stringing together sounds that make nonsense, too. Soon, Jaxon will ask his parents for the keys to the car and a wholly different kind of pandemonium will let loose. From climbing a ladder to driving the Volvo. The impossibilities stack one upon the other.

My mother is adjusting to life without my dad. She says often, “I don’t think I can take it, this loneliness.” She is doing what is necessary. In our last chat, she spoke of playing pickleball, of taking a walk, of meeting a friend for tea. Moving with intention out of the apartment to meet other people. The moment when the necessary becomes what’s possible. She will, I am confident, live her way into the impossible.

The impossible rarely happens in a snap. We live our way into it. Jaxon’s pronouncement and subsequent trip down the big boy slide was a long time coming, a step in the process worthy of celebration. And then, the miracles will keep coming. Full sentences. He’ll learn to write. Someday he’ll write love letters and drive the car to pick up his date. He’ll ask someone to marry him. The art of the impossible. This life.

And, the most amazing of the impossibilities, as we stack our lives with the formerly inconceivable, we grow less and less capable of seeing it. Perhaps that is necessary? How would we exist if we saw each other as keepers of the impossible? Experiencers of the unimaginable?

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE IMPOSSIBLE

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Seed The Pocket [on Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on March 23, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

I’ve appreciated this sunflower for many years and until a month ago it never made me think of Ukraine. Now, that’s all I see. Thus, the power of a symbol. Sunflower seeds placed into the pockets of Russian soldiers by brave Ukrainian elders. “So, some good may come from your death.”

Walking through the antique mall, Brad spotted an ugly homemade sculpture. Golf balls with multiple screws protruding, spray painted and supported by wire rods. “Look, the coronavirus!” he exclaimed. Three years ago spheres with spiky knobs would have made me wrinkle my brow but never associate the shape with a virus. Now?

And masks? Will we ever see a surgical mask without feeling the divide in our nation? A confederate flag paraded through the Capitol? Members of the Capitol Police beaten with the stars and stripes; symbols matter.

Every year more and more our written communication is reimagined with emojis. Visual symbols. The new Ideogram. A thumbs up. A heart. Laughing face. Saying more with less or at the very least opening up our communication to broader interpretation. I find that I’m symbolically rolling my eyes more and more. Exclamation point. HAHA! Know what I mean? Winky face.

Leonard Shlain wrote some remarkable books about how our brains are wired by how we communicate; he posits that linear language, the introduction of writing drove us into our left brains and away from our holistic right. Perhaps in our movement back toward the ideogram we are rebalancing? A course correction or returning to center? It takes more than a few years for brains to rewire. Our descendants will, no doubt, either write books about it or communicate their thoughts through a combo platter of alphabet and pictograph.

Either way, we can only hope they grasp the meaning of the peace symbol. Or, at the very least, learn how to give it more preference than the dollar sign. Or, better yet, figure out how to make peace profitable. Can you imagine? Certainly there will be a symbol for that.

Until then, sunflowers in the killing fields. Sad face. Broken heart.

read Kerri’s blog post about THE SUNFLOWER

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Wander In Wonderland [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on February 1, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

I’ve re-read his email several times. Skip’s explanation of the development of the computer. Subject/Object. Noun/Verb. Items/Action. It’s a story of cause and effect. This causes that. I’ve learned more from this single email than from my very expensive graduate degree. And, it’s sent me down the rabbit hole and I am currently in a world easily as miraculous as Alice’s Wonderland.

Does the moon cause the tides? It does if you are an English-speaker. Causation is the foundation structure of the English language. An action needs an initiator. The noun is king. He kicked. The sea rocked the boat. The moon causes tides. If you speak Mandarin, the moon and the tides are inseparable, not perceived or described as separate events but as interconnected. The same dance, differentiated forms.

Where does an action begin? A consequence end? I warned you. A rabbit hole.

Our perception of the world has everything to do with the language we use to describe it. Our creating of the world has everything to do with the language we use to imagine it. In a world where actions are separate from items, verbs from nouns, this causes that, it’s easy to believe that order is separate from disorder, cosmos is separate from earth, humans are separate from nature. Death is separate from life. Is it?

Each year that passes I’ve noticed the world of written communication includes more emojis and fewer words. Attention spans are shorter – mine, too. Tweet and text. Images carries the bulk of the message. If you could see the analytics on my blog you’d note that if I use more than 600 words, you are less likely to read what I write. We are slowly moving toward ideograms and slowly away from alphabets. Whatever will we do, what might we see, when nouns and verbs blend into image? When the eyes of dedicated separation begin to see through the eyes of interconnectivity – or, as Skip says, “When actions become central.”

It’s called a Wolf Moon, I read, because wolves are particularly loud and vocal during the first months of the year. One questioner asked if the moon causes the wolves to howl. Noun/Verb. Subject/Object.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE WOLF MOON

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Speak Double Speak [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Posted on January 22, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

I’m a big-picture-guy. Kerri is a detail-girl. And, although that sounds like a great country music lyric, it makes for some interesting conversations. We can talk about the same thing and never know it. Or, we can talk about diametrically opposed points of view and think we’re in utter agreement.

With my head in the clouds, I often have to talk things out. Sense-making happens for me when I can get thoughts out of my head via my mouth. One day, a few years into our relationship, while I was in mid-yammer, Kerri looked at me and said, “Gear down.” It had never occurred to me that I might have to find a lower gear when climbing steep-thought-grades. “Gear down” has become a relationship-saving-shorthand.

Her other defense mechanism is to tune me out. I know I need to stop-talking when I see white noise behind her eyes. When I try to pull her into my hot air balloon for a higher view, her detail mind has learned to spin the knob and find another station.

I float to the sky and look at the future. She drops roots into the moment. It’s a wonder that she hasn’t smothered me with her pillow or pushed me out of the car.

read Kerri’s blog post on this saturday morning smack-dab.

smack-dab. © 2021-2 kerrianddavid.com

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