icicles | The Direction of Intention

Tacit Teachers [David’s blog on Not So Thawed Wednesday]

Posted on December 17, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Rilke recommended that when life became turbulent and troublesome, it was wise to stay close to one simple thing in nature.” ~ John O’Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings

For my one simple thing this winter, in these turbulent and troublesome times, I choose icicles. Or, perhaps it is more accurate to say that icicles have chosen me. We are spending an inordinate amount of time together.

When one is as up-close to icicles as I have been in these past weeks, it is impossible not to notice their unique self-expression; each has an individual personality, a beauty all their own. They are sculptural wonders. And yet, follow them back in drip-time and they originate from a single formless origin.

With hot water or Dan’s heat gun I attempt to alter their form and they laugh. I call myself an artist but am no match for their sculptor. That is why it is wise to stay close to them. They are tacit teachers. They put me and these troubled times into perspective.

They are a temporary map of the path of least resistance. And they are gloriously impermanent. Even in seeming stillness, they are moving, changing. Worthy reminders and ample reasons to keep them close. I am glad that they chose me for remedial instruction.

read Kerri’s blogpost about ICICLES

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Filed under: Art, Creativity, Flawed Wednesday, Gratitude, Metaphor | Tagged: artistry, change, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, expression, icicles, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, sculpture, self expression, stillness, story, studio melange, teachers, the melange, wise | 1 Comment »

The Principle Applies [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on December 11, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

Steve-across-the-street said that we’ve already had more snow than all of last year. “It’s not even the middle of December!” he exclaimed. I haven’t researched snow totals but it certainly feels like we’ve had more snow. I barely touched the snow shovel last year or, for that matter, the year before. This year the shovel and I are getting daily workouts. It’s possible that I could be snow-buff by the end of this season. It’s also possible that I could be snow-broken.

(note: Kerri tells me to “be careful” each time I lace on my boots and put on my gloves to go shovel. That is a relatively new development. During my last teeth cleaning the dental hygienist spoke to me in an extra loud voice; my greying beard led her to believe that I was hard of hearing. I admit that every time I look in the mirror I ask myself, “Who the hell are you and what have you done with my face?” But I don’t shout my question since I’m not having problems hearing my inner voice).

The excess of snow is producing an abundance of icicles. They are magical if you remember to appreciate them from a safe distance and not stand in awe beneath them. They are beautiful if you refuse to consider what they are capable of doing to your house. We have a special collection growing just outside our backdoor. I’ve learned not to smack them away as they will take the awning and any vinyl siding with them. Dan loaned us his heat gun and I am looking forward to melting them away between bouts of snow shoveling. Melting them is not a solution since I know that they will inevitably come back in a few days but I consider it akin to mowing the grass: I do not expect my mowing to be one-and-done since grass-grows and the same principle applies to the icicles. Plus, they are fun to melt.

Even at my age.

read Kerri’s blogpost about ICICLES

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Filed under: DR Thursday, Identity, Navel Gazing | Tagged: aging, artistry, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, December, icicles, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, musing, snow, story, studio melange, the melange, weather | 1 Comment »

Catch The Glimmer [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on March 2, 2021 by davidrobinsoncreative

Yesterday a treasure arrived in the mail. Mike sent it for my birthday. It is a painting, a study for class that her father, DeMarcus, did when he was a young art student. He was learning to see and use color. This painting hung in her hallway. More than once I stopped and studied it, his color swatches carefully placed at the bottom of the page. She must have noticed that I was drawn to this painting.

Many years ago, Mike gave me DeMarcus’ notebook from this same class on color. It is from a time before it was possible to go to the drugstore and buy a notebook. DeMarcus cut the paper, made a cover from old Levi’s, starched for strength, and stitched it together. The pages, a hundred years later, are tender, so I am careful when I read them. Reading his notes always buoys my spirit since they are a record of his revelation, of training his eyes to see.

During the bitter cold of the past few weeks, an entire ice-age played out on the top of the awning over our backdoor. A creeping ice shelf moved slowly down the awning, crawling over the side. One evening, the long fingers of the ice-age reaching for the deck below, became brilliant with the winter colors of the sky. Kerri grabbed her phone, flung open the door, frigid air blasting into the warmth of the room, she stepped out and snapped photos of the fingers.

“Look!” she said, showing me the screen. “I love this picture!”

Just above the center of the photograph, a glimmer of electric blue. Amidst the suspended bubbles and greens and purples and light-reflections, a tiny beacon of vibrant blue. I could almost hear DeMarcus laughing.

read Kerri’s blog post about ICICLES