injury | The Direction of Intention

Learn About Silence [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on March 1, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

Sometimes an action is not what it seems. For instance: she decided to sell her cello. It sounds so simple, doesn’t it?

When she broke both of her wrists in the same fall, she worried that she’d lose the ability to play her many instruments. To bow a cello requires a flexible and strong wrist. It healed and she recovered. Bowing the cello was not a problem. And then there was the second fall. A newly mopped floor with no signage. Her first words, laying on the wet linoleum, writhing in pain, holding her right wrist: Oh God! Oh, god, I can’t believe it!”

She lost degrees of movement in the second fall. It sounds mathematical, doesn’t it? Simple math. On a good day she has half the degrees of movement that she had before she met the wet floor. Enough to open a door but far short of bowing a cello.

After three years and countless hours learning about degrees of silence, she decided to sell the cello. “It needs to be played,” she said. “It deserves to be with someone who can play it.”

A simple action. A very complicated story. A heartbreaking moment when the luthier handed her a check. She touched her cello, turned, head down so the man could not see her tears, and walked away.

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE CELLO

like. share. support. comment.

buymeacoffee is what you make of it.

Filed under: Art, Creativity, Identity, KS Friday | Tagged: action, artistry, cello, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, degrees of movement, grief, heart break, injury, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerri sherwood yamaha artist, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, loss, mourning, movement, musician, musicianship, pianist, recording artist, silence, simple action, solo piano, story, studio melange, the melange, two broken wrists, yamaha artist | 2 Comments »

Breathe Again [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on November 30, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

To say I sobbed is a bit of an overstatement. I’d been raking leaves all morning. It was clear and crisp. I’d just finished stuffing the last green bio-bag in the front yard and hauled it to the curb for pick-up. All that remained was to collect the bags from the backyard and move them to the curb. That’s when I heard her playing the piano. I couldn’t believe it! I slipped beneath her studio window and listened. This was no small moment.

She played after she fell and broke both her wrists. She couldn’t open a doorknob or button her shirt but, somehow, she found a way to play. She had to. The pandemic had already taken one of our jobs. Her bosses could not find the heart or moral compass to afford her time off to heal. One hand in a cast. One hand in a splint. Nine useful fingers and an immobilized thumb. She played. Nine months later, nearing complete healing, she fell again. A wet floor. No signs. This time, the injury was debilitating. The depression that followed was a deep dark crevasse. She stopped playing altogether. She sometimes stood at the door of her studio but rarely entered.

These past few years I can count on one hand – well, two fingers – the times she played. When Rob visited I asked her to play for him. She chose a few pieces. Rob was moved to tears. I could tell it hurt her. She was asked by an old friend to play for a transgender memorial service. With her brace she was able to play the two 15 minute sections.

Sitting beneath her studio window, listening, the pain and loss, the weight of the past few years flowed out of my eyes. A flood of relief. She was playing. For herself. For no other reason than to feel the muse. It was a step forward. A step toward. A step back into the light. A moment of possibility.

I felt as if I’d been holding my breath these many years. Now, perhaps, on this crisp fall day, it was time to breathe again.

read Kerri’s blogpost about LEAVES

like. share. support. comment. sit beneath the window, sigh and smile.

buymeacoffee is a moment of possibility, a sigh of relief at the continued creation of the artists you value.

Filed under: Art, Body, Creativity, DR Thursday, Gratitude, Love, Possibility | Tagged: artistry, autumn, breath, breathe, breathe again, broken wrists, courage, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, depression, despair, fortitude, heart, injury, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, muse, new day, perseverance, pianist, possibility, raking leaves, relief, renewal, solo piano, stamina, story, studio melange, the melange | 3 Comments »

Intend Renewal [on DR Thursday]

Posted on July 7, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

Context is everything. When we chose this picture for our Melange, I thought I’d probably write about renewal. Out of devastation, a phoenix rises. Or, perhaps the kind of renewal that doesn’t just happen but requires a bit of scraping, new soil, scattered seed, and hay-net to prevent the birds from feasting on the seed. Intentional renewal.

Context. Between the day we chose this photo and this cool quiet morning that I’m attempting to write about it, the mass shooting at Highland Park happened. I’m finding it nearly impossible to write about renewal.

Highland Park is not far away. We attend the annual art fair on their small-town Main Street. We’ve driven through 4 times in the last two weeks.

We were about to go out the door and walk to our local 4th of July festival when the news arrived. We looked at each other, no words necessary. We kicked off our shoes. We decided to stay home. Going to a place where people congregate – like grocery stores or elementary schools or places of worship or movie theatres or parades meant to celebrate our “independence” – seemed unsafe.

Context.

HIghland Park was one of three locations in the USA that experienced mass shootings on the 4th of July. No, check that. Four locations. Even as I type, Kerri brought news of the mass shooting that happened here – not so many blocks away – on the 4th. Staying home was a good choice. Oops. Check that. More news. There were eight. Oops (again). Check that. Eleven.

I cannot write about renewal but, for the third time this week, I am tapping out thoughts about interconnectivity.

It is a trick of language to say, “I broke my toe” and believe that only the isolated body-part called “toe” is injured while everything else is fine. Except it’s not fine. An injury anywhere to the body is an injury to the whole body. Everything is impacted. Everything adjusts. The pain-impulse you feel in your toe has already completed a round trip to your brain. Your posture adjusts so expect your hip or back to be sore tomorrow. Your spatial awareness goes on high alert: it’s best to avoid toe contact with any immovable object. If you desire to understand interconnectivity, consider how your whole body might respond if you happen to stub your seeming-isolated-and-already-broken-toe. Whole body response. Imagine it.

There have been over 300 mass shootings in the United States this year. So, the single most puzzling comment to come out of HIghland Park? “How could it happen here?” As if “here” is somehow isolated from Uvalde or Buffalo or Boulder or…it’s a long list and growing.

The whole nation-body is injured. It’s the illusion of isolation that underpins the mad-thought that more guns, unrestricted, are a solution to gun violence. Build a fortress? Isolate? Better doors? Arm yourself? It’s only the toe.

Where exactly is the boundary of “here?” And why would it be okay for “it” to happen “there”?

We’re all here. There is no “there” that is “safe.” Context is everything.

Perhaps I am writing about renewal. The intentional kind that requires some leadership scraping, new soil, seed, and a whole-body community united and relentless in their demand for proper protections from the insanity of guns.

read Kerri’s blogpost bout NEW GRASS

Filed under: DR Thursday, Edges, Identity, Language, Perspective, Uncategorized | Tagged: 4th of July, artistry, context, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, gun control, gun violence, guns, guns in america, Highland Park, injury, intention, intentional renewal, interconnectivity, isolation, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, lack of leadership, leadership, mass shootings, nra madness, pain, renewal, story, studio melange, the melange, whole body | Leave a comment »

Lean On Poppo’s Cane [on KS Friday]

Posted on May 27, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

Next to the closet where we keep our shoes and old sweatshirts is a bucket. In the bucket are a few walking sticks we’ve plucked from the trail, used and brought home. We rarely walk with sticks so the few that made the trip home are in the bucket to remind us of special walks, the times we needed some stick-aid. And thank-goodness there was a stick available when we needed it.

In the bucket, alongside the walking sticks, is Poppo’s cane.

Poppo’s cane came in handy this week when Kerri broke her foot. She is a circle-walker and our house has square rooms so she regularly arcs too close to the doorjambs. She’s adept at breaking her pinky toe.

This time she broke more than one bone. When the yellow-green swelling hit her ankle we took her to the doctor and then she went for a spin in the x-ray machine. For a few days, I was her mobility prop and then Poppo’s cane took my place and became her trusty stick-aid.

She looked at me this morning and, with knitted-brow, asked the obvious question, “What’s going on?” I had no answer. In the span of a couple of years, she’s broken her wrists, torn ligaments, had fingers that simple refused to bend, lost mobility in her left shoulder, tendonosis, a tendon injury in her left foot, a digestive system that refused to digest,… She’s had a heaping plate of “what’s going on with my body? What’s going on with my life?”

Both are great questions to ask.

What do you do when your questions have no definitive answers? Lean on Poppo’s cane and take another step. What else? Appreciate the stick-aid. Perhaps one day, with a little perspective, while looking at the bucket of useful sticks, the story will make some sense. The questions will find understanding.

In the meantime, I’m considering moving Kerri into a furniture-less yurt. My theory is that circle walkers are safer racing around in obstacle-free circular homes.

Kerri’s albums are available in iTunes & streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blogpost about POPPO’S CANE

Filed under: Family, Gratitude, KS Friday, Metaphor, Uncategorized | Tagged: aging, artistry, body changes, broken foot, broken toes, cane, changing body, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, injury, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, questions, sense making, stick-aid, story, studio melange, support, the melange, two artists, walking stick, walking sticks, yurt | Leave a comment »

Whisper, “Thanks.” [on KS Friday]

Posted on October 8, 2021 by davidrobinsoncreative

We found the gratitude wall in a small mountain town. It was a mess of appreciation, overrun with thankfulness. I thought, but did not say, “This ought to be the visual expression of every inner life.”

I didn’t write on the wall. I whispered my gratitude to the wall. Kerri played for my father’s funeral service. This woman, who is a Yamaha artist, considered a modern master at her instrument, after breaking both wrists, after a second fall, an injury from which she will never fully recover, with a middle finger that sometimes responds and sometimes does not, with a pinky that is curling, wrists that cannot bend, hands that cannot reach the keys as they once did…she played. For the first time in many, many months. She stood at a piano and played. Beautifully.

My dad, a great lover of music, spent hours of his life listening to her CDs. He loved her playing, delighted in her compositions.

I cried for two reasons at the funeral. Both reasons overwhelmed me with gratitude. I was a mess of appreciation, so, I whispered my bottomless thank-you to the gratitude wall.

kerri’s albums are available on iTunes & streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blog post about GRATEFUL

grateful/as it is ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood

Filed under: Gratitude, KS Friday | Tagged: aarp, artistry, AS IT IS, broken wrists, composer, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, funeral, grateful, grateful on as it is, injury, inner life, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood as it is, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, musician, piano, solo piano, studio melange, thankfulness, the melange, yamaha artist | Leave a comment »

Await The Whoooosh! [on KS Friday]

Posted on June 18, 2021 by davidrobinsoncreative

Although the genre-labels attached to her music, words like “new age” or “easy listening,” might lead you to believe otherwise, Kerri is not a gentle player of her piano. She doesn’t sit at it. She stands. Often, when she plays, the piano literally hops. This diminutive woman is a force of nature when she steps into her music. For her, playing is a full-body affair.

In this day and age of electronically generated music (and art), it’s hard to explain the love of the analog, the delight in full-body art-making. There is a flow – there is no other word for it – that is possible when using brushes and paint on large canvas or making music on keys that aren’t digitally supported. It becomes a dance. It requires opening, getting out of the way.

Early in our lives together we’d listen to her recordings, “Can you hear the whooosh?” she’d ask. “That’s the pedal! I love that sound!” she’d say. “Whooooosh! I don’t like playing on keyboards. There’s no whooosh.”

No whooosh. I’ve watched her play on keyboards – many times. You’d never know it but she has to hold herself back. If she let herself play, full-body-play, she’d knock the keyboard off its stand. She has to contain the force, water through a dam.

It’s anybody’s guess how she’ll play after her wrist recovers from the wet-floor-fall. There are still some months to go. In the meantime, the piano is calling. I know because she’s cleaning her studio. A studio cleanse is always the sign of an artist preparing for the next…Open space. A gathering storm. There’s only one thing I know for certain: on that day, when the pain is gone and she calls, “Come here and listen to this!” DogDog and I will go into the studio, find a safe place clear from potential piano hops, and we’ll take full-body delight in the return of the whoosh.

listen for the whooosh…

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

read Kerri’s blog post about PEDALS

Filed under: Art, Body, Creativity, KS Friday | Tagged: analog, artistry, blueprint for my soul, composer, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, full body, healing, injury, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, music making, musician, piano artist, piano artist kerri sherwood, solo piano, studio melange, that morning someday | Leave a comment »

See The Break [on KS Friday]

Posted on November 6, 2020 by davidrobinsoncreative

a double haiku:

She crawled in the tube,

face down, arm above her head.

Magnetic portrait.

Miraculous hand,

as seen from the inside-out.

Tiny bone, big soul break.

read Kerri’s MRI haiku

Kerri’s music – what she makes with her hands – is available on iTunes

Filed under: Edges, KS Friday | Tagged: broken hand, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, healthcare, injury, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, MRI, seeing, soul, two broken wrists | 2 Comments »

Suspend And Rest [on KS Friday]

Posted on January 31, 2020 by davidrobinsoncreative

rest with frame copy

Kerri took a fall earlier this week and broke both of her wrists. For a professional pianist there are few injuries more debilitating and frightening. Needless to say, our world stopped. We’ve stepped out of time.

Judy once told me, after her husband suffered a terrible stroke and she became his full-time caregiver, that she could not think about tomorrow or even an hour ahead. The moment at hand, the task immediately before her, was all that existed. I understood in an abstract way what she was experiencing. The weight of presence. The unbearable lightness of presence. All that exists is now. Today, I understand what Judy experienced beyond a simple abstract appreciation. At this point, there is no sense in thinking ahead.

A sip of coffee through a straw. Move the hair from her eyes. Help her sit up. There is the task at hand. That is all. And in “that is all” comes a great gift: instant perspective on what has actual importance and what does not. In these past several months everything has felt like a fight to swim upstream. Today, since Monday, there is no fight, there is only stream and it carries us where it will. We let go and are resting. A whole rest.

It is ironic to me that since her fall, in addition to the pain and the real fear of losing her capacity to play the piano [read: lose who she understands herself to be], we have laughed more in four days than in four months. We have let go. We look at what-this-time-last-week appeared to be so heavy with importance and merely shrug. Not important. It floats away. Or we float away from it. In this whole rest there is no capacity to push, no desire to paddle or resist. Suspended, we rest. We take this bite, sweet or savory, and that is all.

read Kerri’s blog post about WHOLE REST