Climb The Stairs [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

It was a rare treat to climb the stairs to the rooftop deck and gaze into the night sky, unobstructed by city lights. Years ago I worked with kids in Los Angeles, teenagers, who had never seen the stars. Standing on the roof, overwhelmed by the Milky Way, I thought about those children, now well into their adulthood, and hoped that they had, at long last, found a way to peer into the endless universe.

What else might adequately provide them the understanding of the impossibility of their existence, the enormity of their lives? What else might open their eyes and hearts to the necessity of community, the recognition that their lives only have meaning relative to the people who share this planet and this moment-in-time with them? Relationship is purpose.

We have seven days. In biblical terms that’s how long it took the metaphoric god to differentiate light from dark, land from sea, moon from sun, animals from humans. Rest from work. Humanity’s role in this story of creation is to appreciate the enormity of their unlikely existence. To steward. To name. To discern between merit and the meritless, between truth and lie. To distinguish good intention from ill-intention.

We have seven days until we vote. Although we might pretend this is normal, this election is like no other in our lifetimes. The issues have taken a back seat to the question of our existence as a democracy. We are determining whether or not we are still capable of distinguishing truth from lie, whether or not we are willing to toss away our freedoms and replace them with authoritarian rage, whether or not we will serve the needs of the greater community or the power-lust of an individual.

Seven days. We will either step forward as champions of light and truth or we will turn our backs on what we know to be true and fall backwards into the dark fascist promises of Project 2025.

Under the stars we have a choice: to continue our quest to realize the dream of a more perfect union, with liberty and justice for all – or to exchange our constitution for the autocratic craving of an angry despot. To honestly name what we know to be true.

There’s still time to climb the stairs, peer into the starry sky, and realize the power of our choices, what is at stake in this, our time, our moment.

read Kerri’s blogpost about STARS

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No Basis For Real [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

An MSNBC opinion piece hit the nail on the head: the reason why so many of us find this presidential campaign so uniquely unsettling is that “…so many of our fellow citizens embrace a candidate and a message so fundamentally un-American.”

“This is fascist rhetoric. More specifically, it’s Nazi rhetoric. But the crowds at [his] rallies aren’t horrified by such language. They lap it up.”

And so, here we are. These “citizens” embracing a fascist intention are our sisters and brothers, mothers and fathers. They are people we know and love but no longer recognize. They are not abstractions.

Kerri has a theory. She calls it “the flat friends”, the relationships available online that win likes and strokes for agreement. These relationships are abstractions; they are not real. They are easy, uncomplicated, and come with instant gratification. No dialogue required. No real communication. No imperative to support assertions with facts or data or…reality. Hate bubbles filled with easy lies and even easier agreement amongst flat friends. An ugly meme is all the verification needed in flat-friend-land. No real thinking required.

It’s a convenient place to run and hide when the three dimensional world, the woke world, the world of evidence and reason and thinking and questioning and open minds, asks, “What the hell are you talking about?”

In the flat-friend-world it is possible to silence me with the click of a button. And, if you think about it, all of the rhetoric spewed by the hate candidate and magnified by the faux-news-fox pander to the same idea. Easy two dimensional solutions – fodder that is only palatable to a flat world dedicated to non-thinking. Mass deportations. Banning books. Eliminating the Department of Education. Blasting women back into the dark ages. Enemies abound! Snap! Easy-peasy. Big-Red-Daddy will solve it all for you. Click.

Eliminating those that disagree is not a solution outside of flat-friend-world. It is an illusion – and laughably childish – though Big-Red-Daddy has suggested that he will use the military to silence those who criticize him. Apparently, he believes he will be able with a click of the military to un-friend 50% of the nation, the congress, the justice system…the American system of governance.

In the three dimensional world it is not so easy to silence me or the rest of us that remember how to lift our eyes from the screen and fact check what we see in flatland, those of us who still understand that agreement is a lousy test of real information, that democracy is a complex ongoing idea that deserves responsible stewards and that an easy “like” is no basis for real community.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FLAT FRIENDS

smack-dab © 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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What Remains [David’s blog on KS Friday]

“Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible in us be found.” ~ Pema Chödrön

The super moon called us out into the night. We ran-walked to the grounds of the Anderson Art Center so we might get an unobstructed view of the giant moon perched just above the horizon. Later, we walked the streets and paths that followed the shore so we could watch the moon shrink as it journeyed higher into the sky. An illusion.

My favorite part of our stroll was finding that we weren’t the only people called into the night. People – many people – gathered along the shore, some quiet, some giddy – all attending the march of the moon. “This is just like the old days,” Kerri said. A community joining together to share a common experience. No one cared about the politics or issues of the day. There was a common agreement as we passed others: “Isn’t it beautiful!” Strangers so moved by the enormity of the moment, so connected to this ancient traveller, that they were compelled to speak to each other.

Think about it.

The little stuff disappears in the face of the transcendent moon. I felt as if we were participating in a ritual that is as old as humanity. And, more to the point, this ancient ritual, the awe of the moon, invoked our humanity. We were, to a person, benevolent. In the timeless moon there was no space for the petty. There wasn’t a hint of righteousness or prejudice to be found. We waned in the face of the eternal light of the moon. What remained was a basic impulse to share the moment. To join. Primordial generosity. Kindness sublime.

It’s a Long Story/ This Part of the Journey © 1998/2000 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE KEYS

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Predictable [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Humans 300 years from now will look on our times as the nadir of human expression. They will marvel at our creation of something so ingenious as social media and then wrinkle their noses at how we used it.

“Predictable,” they will sigh. “If anyone can say anything in a medium driven and magnified solely by popularity – then it should have come as no surprise that some people will-in-fact say anything to hoard popularity.” Likes. “They must not have known that people will do anything for attention,” they will roll their eyes.

“Our ancestors enjoyed free speech,” they will scribble in their notes, “but were a people with no sense of decorum.” Their discovery will spur a new field of research: when in human development did people evolve enough to place decency above their need for approval? When did people evolve enough to consider the impact of their words, to understand that that their actions affect the greater good?

read Kerri’s blogpost about SAYING AND DOING

smack-dab © 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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Feel It [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

I worked in or consulted with many schools and businesses. I was always amazed at how much the organization mirrored the personality of the principal or CEO. An angry boss always made for an angry organization. A bright light at the top of the org chart shone in every corner and heart of the community.

And so it goes for nations. This week I had two important calls with dear friends that I have not seen for over a decade. Both commented on the lightness of spirit they feel since Kamala Harris became the Democratic nominee for President. Hope is in the air. A leader who laughs. A candidate who speaks of opportunity, equality and possibility…The energy of optimism is palpable, the uplift is trickling down. You can feel it.

read Kerri’s blogpost about TRICKLE DOWN

smack-dab © 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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Sacred Voice [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

My niece said it perfectly: for the first time in eight years I can vote FOR someone rather than against someone. The direction of intention. Moving toward the light instead of reacting against the darkness. And now, with Kamala Harris and Tim Walz, there is at long last a brilliant sunrise.

Beneath every action is a reason. A purpose or desire.

A vote is an action. It is the single action at the epicenter of every democracy. If there is a sacred action in the idea of democracy, voting is it. It is how we-the-people choose our path forward. It is how we participate (take responsibility) in our development. It is how we give voice to our intentions. To date, the people in the United States have one of the lowest voter turnouts in the world. Only 62%.

Choosing not to vote is…a choice. An inaction.

Over and over again in my career I heard people decry their voice-less-ness. Sunk in the quicksand-belief that their actions did not matter, their voice did not matter, they simply ceased trying. “No matter what I do, nothing changes.” Somehow, the connection between action and impact is snapped. And, the space between the broken pieces fills with the anger of helplessness.

As my former business partner responded to a woman who claimed voicelessness, “If you had a voice, what would you say?”

You have a voice. It’s called a vote. If you choose to use it, what will you say? Will you speak with dark fear or proclaim joy-filled-light? Will you declare possibility or mean-spirited-pout?

Our actions in the next few months, our vote this November, is our voice. I choose the light. My vote, my voice, will speak to a world that serves and shines on the whole community, that reaches for the central ideal: the creation of a nation built on the notion Out-Of-Many–One. Service to all. It is the reason we have a sacred vote, a voice of We-The-People.

There’s never been a better time, a more necessary time, to stand up and speak loud and clear. There’s never been a more important time to help others who have become complacent to claim – to reclaim – their sacred voice.

read Kerri’s blogpost about ACTION

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A Narrative Of Hope [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Sometimes the car breaks down. Sometimes the car breaks down and you are hours away from home. When it happens, as is now happening now for us, it’s best to count your blessings. On the top of the list of gratitudes: we are in a beautiful place, up north, surrounded by good friends. Our dear 20 is keeping our Dogga safe. All is right in the world.

Circumstance changes. Plans change. Indeed, plans go out the window. The center holds. Life comes into simple focus.

As we sort out what to do, how best to get home – get the car home – we watch our nation sort out what to do. In our lull, counting our gratitudes, we watch the joy and enthusiasm ripple out of the Democratic National Convention and inspire the nation. A narrative of hope. A narrative of remembrance of who we are. A narrative of community, people helping people, a narrative of service to something bigger…

We are, right now, in a position of needing help. I cannot tell you how important, how gratifying it is to know that the support we need is immediately and lovingly available. It’s what we do for each other.

Why would we do any less for our community? Why would we want any less for our nation?

No one navigates this life alone. Today, Kerri and I know this viscerally, in our bones. This November we can vote for selfish poverty, the angry narrative of the former Republican Party, the lie of every-man-for-himself – or – we can vote for the Democratic ideal that lives at the very heart of our nation: we are our brothers/sisters keepers – because they are also our keepers, our support, the epicenter of our thankfulness. It’s called community. In service to the betterment of all. The choice is ours and it has never been more clear.

Helping hands are everywhere – as it should be.

read Kerri’s blogpost about VOTE

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Exactly The Point [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Chris wrote that he was taking a break from Facebook. “I’ve spent too much time in this space.”

I told Kerri that after I was finished with my slow re-read of Amusing Ourselves to Death, for a while I was only going to read books that filled me with light. “I’ve had too much of darkness,” I said.

Walter Lippmann posited that “…distorted information was inherent in the human mind. People make up their minds before they define the facts…” In other words, we are more gullible and impressionable than we care to admit, and are too soon planting our belief-flags in the sand. In other-other words, fact checking is not a human forté. Gossip mongering is.

Kerri and I often walk arm and arm along the waterfront, an old-world evening constitutional, a stroll taken slowly enough to notice, an opportunity to say “Hello,” when passing neighbors and friends. More and more I think it an essential to regularly set aside those little screens that dominate our viewpoints, and clear our minds. Every painter knows that perspective is gained by stepping back. I can read streams of opinions all day long but nothing beats the affirmation of real community than a hot summer night, people sitting on porches and a neighborhood mosey.

Families filled the park. The cool breeze off the lake drew them to the shore. Barbecues. Children chasing balls and each other. A feeling of respite was pervasive. Laughter. Shared space. We passed two teenage girls sitting on a bench with a bucket of colored pencils between them, coloring their books and chatting.

The sky morphed from orange and blue to purple and pink. A single bird arced across the sky. “What are you thinking?” I asked.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” she said. “I’m just enjoying the moment.”

I smiled, thinking, “Yes. And isn’t that exactly the point?”

read Kerri’s blog post about THE PINK SKY

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Those Ubiquitous Carts [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

In some ways the grocery store is the last vestige of a by-gone era. A gathering place. A commons. A place of spontaneous conversation with neighbors and acquaintances – nothing transactional, not facilitated through a screen. A chinwag surrounded by vegetables, boxes of pasta and bags of chips. All made possible by the weekly necessity of pushing the cart.

We lost track of time in our most recent grocery-store-dialogue. We laughed heartily. We left the store with our groceries and giddy with delight at bumping into old friends. There is so much misunderstood power available in those ubiquitous carts!

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE CART

smack-dab © 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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Upside Down [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

We saw the sticker on the back of a traffic sign. “What’s the definition of hippy?” she asked.

Since she is a detail-girl, I Googled the definition. I am famous for making up definitions and she’s on to my game. I read aloud: “usually a young person who rejects the mores of established society (as by dressing unconventionally or favoring communal living) and advocated a non-violent ethic.” Or, “having very large hips.”

She frowned. “Do you have to be a young person to reject the mores of established society?”

“Are we young people?” I responded and she smiled. Always the rebel.

As we strolled away from the sticker I wondered about the mores of our society that so assumes violence as conventional that non-violence is considered – by definition – unconventional.

Sometimes this world seems upside-down.

The moment was made more ironic because, just moments before, every phone on the busy street rang with an alarm: there was an active shooter just six minutes drive away, a fifteen minute walk, and the police were locking down the area. Everyone stared at their phones and continued with their business.

What was the most unnerving? That there was an active shooter close-by or that no one was surprised?Everyone continued shopping. Violence as a convention.

“I think I want to be a hippy,” she said. Me, too.

read Kerri’s blog about HIPPIES

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