This Storm [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

It seems our weather forecast is regularly filled with dire warnings. Violent thunderstorms. Hail. Tornadoes. We watch the radar as the angry colors move across the map, headed in our direction. So far we’ve been fortunate. In the final approach, the irate clouds veer to the north or break to the south. Sometimes they split and go around us. We catch the margins of the storm, the distant booms, the lesser winds.

After dinner we sat on the deck with 20. Earlier in the evening it was too cold to sit outside, the temperature by the lake was 10 degrees cooler than inland. When I stepped out the back door to cover the grill I was taken aback. It was warm and humid. We relocated outside and marveled at the odd shape and weird color of the clouds. We knew a storm was on the way, the warnings were apocalyptic, but our radar watch confirmed that, once again, it would mostly miss us. Kerri took photographs. 20 and I giggled, lapsing into middle-school-boy humor.

The weather forecast mirrors the augury of our nation. Climate change. Culture change. Waves of anger roll across the land in phallic-shaped storm clouds. We hunker down and monitor the radar. We watch the day’s news for the latest devastation, the senseless chaos, the mean-spirit that blows away our democracy.

Sitting on the deck, we acknowledged that we are collectively holding our breath. We know that there is no avoiding this retribution storm, this oligarchic money-grab. The fight that’s coming will not veer. The fight is already here. The fascist winds have arrived. We stock up as we do for any swelling tempest. We prepare our go-bag as we did during the recent riots. We reassure each other that sense and sensibility will ultimately win the day. Decency will return. And, in the meantime, the warning sirens blare. We do what we can to fight the rising autocracy. We do what artists do.

Coming Up For Air (sketch), mixed media on canvas

read Kerri’s blogpost about the STORM CLOUDS

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Take Another Sip [on DR Thursday]

I am spending a significant amount of time studying software. An unlikely task for an artist that prefers brushes and canvas over screens and keyboards. This improbable exploration follows a trend in my life: much of my work has taken place in foreign arenas. I love it because I learn. I love it because I am completely prepared to fail: a trait necessary to walk an artist’s path. To learn, it is necessary to begin in unknown places and make big mistakes. The same rule applies to creation. “Make big offers,” John used to say to his actors. “See what happens.”

Yesterday in my software study, I read about Mathilde Collin, the CEO of Front. She inspires me. She believes work should make people happy. She believes people shouldn’t dread getting out of bed in the morning. She believes in balanced-lives and finding each person’s “genius zone” and leaning into it. She knows a healthy culture doesn’t just happen, that it must be created and tended. And modeled. She believes paths to prosperity must include everyone.

I’ve also spent some time with Evariste Galois. He was a French mathematician who died in a duel at the age of 20. The night before he died, so the story goes, believing it was his last night on earth, he compiled and wrote his thoughts, his life’s work. What he left behind has kept mathematicians busy for more than two centuries. I’m not a mathematician but I am a systems guy and Galois’ Group Theory is useful when studying cultural change – or, more to the point, why it often looks like change but doesn’t really change. Rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. It’s useful to consider when products are being developed – or stories – when they iterate but go nowhere.

When I come down from the office I am often glazed. Kerri gives me a glass of wine and steers me to the Covid table. While I stare at the bubbles in the wine she makes a snack. Food and wine always bring me back to the land of the living. After a cracker and cheese, a sip or two, I blink my eyes and she says, “Welcome back.” She knows better than to ask what I did at work. A time or two I’ve taken her hand and headed back toward the mind-cave and she’s learned to dig in her heels. “I learned the most amazing thing,” I say. She responds, “Take another sip and we’ll talk about it later.”

Mathilde Collin. Evariste Galois. Both are French and it only just occurred to me that they share the same country of origin. Revolutionaries both, believing that the systems should work for the people – rather than the people working for the system. Life should feed passions. Evoke personal genius. Happiness.

All of this good stuff from a stumble into the land of software.

“Take another sip,” Kerri prompts. I blink my eyes. “We’ll talk about it later.”

read Kerri’s blog post about WINE BUBBLES

in dreams i wrestle with angels © 2017 david robinson