Gathering Vanishing Days [David’s blog on KS Friday]

“Many of us have made our world so familiar that we do not see it anymore. An interesting question to ask yourself at night is, What did I really see this day?” ~ John O’Donohue, Anam Cara

This week our world is a big as our sunroom. The Dogga is ill and we are with him constantly. I pet him and he sleeps. While he sleeps I look out the window. Breck the aspen tree quakes. Finches alight in the small branch outside the window. They look in, visitors to the people zoo. I look back and am amused at what they see. The autumn light in the backyard is startling.

I realize that in many ways the world has stopped – or at the very least time has slowed. This is unfamiliar territory. Even the room is novel, rearranged, piled with soft rugs and gated for Dogga containment. It has become a cradle of sorts. All of our life patterns are altered. We are making it up as we go. In this unexplored landscape I can see again. Every breath. Every leaf that drops.

I am not trying to be anywhere else. I am exactly where I want to be, doing the most important thing I can imagine doing. I am not bored or feeling trapped. Quite the opposite. I wonder how often this has been true in my life?

John O’Donohue sits by my side. He tells me, “Your soul is the priestess of memory, selecting, sifting, and ultimately gathering your vanishing days toward presence.”

Dwight recently asked a question, “What is the wake I am leaving as I navigate work, my family, uh.. the airport, etc.?” I rearrange the image within his question: what is the ripple I send from my pebble-center that will all too soon disappear, a disturbance in the water returning to mirror calm?

A haiku: Dogga lifts his head. His tail wags a single wag. My heart knows itself.

WHEN THE FOG LIFTS on the album THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY © 1998 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE FOG

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Chicken Marsala Monday

We were 14 hours into a 17 hour drive when she asked the question. “If we’d had a child, what would we have named it?” After much laughter and too much coffee we settled on Chicken Marsala.  Chicken kept us awake for the rest of our drive.

No one can accuse us of not being productive. We are a creative melange of paintings, music, plays, books, children’s books, and, now, cartoons. For over a year we attempted to syndicate our strip, Chicken Marsala (the imaginary child of an aging couple…) and were met with much enthusiasm but not syndication. We produced months of strips and single panel nuggets (chicken strips and chicken nuggets. Titanic wit, yes?).

Brewed from our studio, from the pile of creative perseverance that is stacking up below and above the ping pong table that serves as our archive , we’ve decided to offer a daily blend of goodness, thought, laughter and beauty. It may come fresh off the press or it might be aged and, like Chicken Nuggets, it might be looking for some light. Art is made to share, not archive. Either way, welcome to the melange. Chicken’s day is Monday. This nugget has everything to do with Valentine’s week and a quiet reminder that the universe of feelings is so much bigger than words can possibly contain.

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LOVE NEEDS NO WORDS

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love needs no words ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood