But If I Had [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

I’ve never taught visual art but if I had, I’d have sent my students outside to look at color in nature. I wouldn’t spend a moment having them study an abstract color wheel or match paint swatches indoors. Together we’d look at light, the angle of the sun. We’d play with shadows and discover the changing hue of shadows; they are more full of color than we want to admit.

We’d bring-to-light, uncover, unearth…we’d learn to see, a skill much more valuable to the artist than merely looking. We’d walk through the world as if for the first time. We’d share our color notes. We’d tease and be teased by a full range of morphing value as the sun played with our perception.

We’d remind ourselves that our window on this life is only open for a short while. We’d saturate ourselves in the infinity of shapes and textures, the marvel of pattern and interconnection; the riches of diversity. We’d immerse-in-the-immensity and not pretend that we were in any way separate or better-than.

We’d stave off a world insistent that we live within the narrow strictures of black and white, bland cubicles of dulled minds. I’d have sent my students outside to wander into their thicket of questions and step boldly into a world without answers but alive in rich, vibrant color.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE LEAF

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See It All [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

“It is truth that liberates, not your effort to be free.” ~ Jiddu Krishnamurti, The First and Last Freedom

More and more we are visiting local nurseries and garden centers. I am captivated by the colors and shapes of flowers and plants. Earlier this year, while shopping for specific herbs and plants for the garden, I saw through a different set of eyes. Consumer eyes. Now that our garden is planted and growing, our visits are different. They are not about shopping but about lingering. We wander. We allow ourselves to be pulled. Kerri takes photographs. The narrow focus of a consumer is much different than the open focus of an appreciator; artist eyes. It fills me up to see what is there beyond what I think is there.

Nelson Mandela said, “Let freedom reign. The sun never set on so glorious a human achievement.” This from a man who spent 27 years in prison for resisting a brutal apartheid government. He understood to his bones the relationship of truth to freedom. Freedom is not possible if it’s based on a lie. Lies imprison. As we are now learning, to sustain a foundation of lies it is necessary to suppress freedoms. It is necessary to subdue and distort the truth.

Our divisions, just as the divisions of apartheid in South Africa, are based in lies. There is no truth to division based on the color of skin. It is manufactured, legislated. There is not an invasion of immigrants at our southern border. No one is eating dogs and cats. It is made-up, a hate-lever to those who would control and exploit their way to dominance. Concocted hatred is a worn-out colonialist’s tool. Mandela also said, “No one is born hating another person because of the color of his skin, or his background, or his religion. People must learn to hate, and if they can learn to hate, they can be taught to love.”

People can be tricked into hatred, and if they can be tricked, they are also capable of opening their eyes to the truth.

Seeing through they eyes of truth is different than seeing through eyes dedicated to lies. Eyes that seek truth desire to open, to see everything. All the colors and shapes. Diversity. Interconnection. Artist’s eyes.

The other eyes, the eyes of apartheid, the eyes of ICE, the eyes of current Republicans – are necessarily narrow. They see only what they want to see. They refuse to see beyond what they think. And, more to the point, in order to sustain the lie they need to bully all eyes to see as they see – or at least to pretend.

Pathological lies inevitably become an inescapable web, catching the spider as well as the prey. We are watching it happen in real time with the Epstein files. The liar is caught in his web of lies and so he deflects by contriving division, by escalating his lies.

Narrowing eyes eventually close and see only darkness. We are watching it happen in real time with the Republican Congress fleeing Washington D.C. to escape having to see the truth. All of it.

Truth is found by learning, by opening eyes and hearts to see all colors and shapes as they are, not as we want them to be. I am reminded of key lesson that leadership mentor, Eliav Zakay, taught his students: “Leaders shine light into dark corners.” It is the truth that liberates. It is the truth that sets us free.

read Kerri’s blog about CONEFLOWERS

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

In an attempt to get me to relax, my dear Arnie pointed me to The Fourth Turning. “It’s a necessary cycle,” he said of our current political and national chaos, “as winter is necessary for spring.”

Astrologers point to Uranus currently entering Gemini. Astrologically, we’re in a period of great disruption. The last time Uranus knock-knocked on Gemini’s door was 1941.

In either case, the message is the same: there’s a meta-story at play and there’s no avoiding it. The tornado is here. It is going to lift and spin the house. We are destined to crash-land in Oz for a spell. There’s nothing that will change it so we might as well put on our seat belts and hold on for the ride. We will find a yellow brick road that will one day bring us back to Kansas if we are careful not to smell the poppies along the way. However, we will not be the same as when we left. Neither will Kansas. This disruption is meant to change us. Grousing about it is a necessary phase but, in the end, is not helpful.

These cyclical storms necessitate a dive into our roots. Through chaos they force us into a period of introspection.

Introspection inevitably brings us to an appreciation of the only thing we really have anyway: the moment. The smell of mint. The birds splashing in the birdbath. The voice of a friend. A second cup of coffee. The cool breeze off the lake. The color of the sky. The meaning we choose to make. Gratitude.

In my life I’ve experienced earthquakes and tornadoes, riots and two passes through Martial Law. 9/11. There is one thing that is consistently true in times of upheaval: people come together.

The horrors we enact upon each other invariably – inevitably – make us reach for one another. People lend a helping hand to their neighbors and to strangers alike. Humanity is what we find when we dive into our roots. If Arnie and the astrologers are correct, the rediscovery of our humanity, our interconnection, IS the meta-story, the reset, the symbolic return of spring.

In the meantime, amidst the brutality and disgust, it’s not a bad strategy to everyday ask, “What else is REAL?” – and revel in what you find there. Appreciating the small things are like leaving a popcorn trail that will someday lead us safely home after being so lost in the very dark woods.

read Kerri’s blogpost about WHAT ELSE IS REAL?

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A Poet’s Revelation [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Some enlightened poet/scientist named this little flower Shooting Star. The flower evoked for the scientist streaks of light arcing across the night sky. The scientist must have had a profound experience one night, gazing into the stars when, suddenly, the stars seemed to go haywire, zipping across the sky.

My first ever meteor shower happened while I was a teenager. I was in the mountains. I lay in a meadow with my friends and watched the heavens dance. It made me understand how so many cultures on this earth believe that shooting stars are either souls returning to the earth to be reborn or the souls of the recently deceased leaping into the other world. Souls in transition leaving a brilliant, momentary trace of light behind them.

Still other cultures believe that shooting stars are messages from the gods. Affirmations.

The message I received from my night in the mountain meadow watching the stars arc across the sky? I am infinitesimally small in this vast universe. And, I am intimately connected to everything. It’s a poet’s revelation.

The scientist who named the flower Shooting Star must have had the exact same realization.

[Bonus hope: A poet’s thought in a world of oppression in which we are connected to everything]

I Look At The World ~ Langston Hughes

I look at the world
From awakening eyes in a black face—
And this is what I see:
This fenced-off narrow space
Assigned to me.

I look then at the silly walls
Through dark eyes in a dark face—
And this is what I know:
That all these walls oppression builds
Will have to go!

I look at my own body
With eyes no longer blind—
And I see that my own hands can make
The world that’s in my mind.
Then let us hurry, comrades,
The road to find.

Blueprint For My Soul on the album The Best So Far © 1996/9 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums – borne of her poet’s revelation – are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blogpost about SHOOTING STARS

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Stand In A Word [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Poets and philosophers have been trying to define beauty for eons. What is beautiful? It’s an impossible task since beauty is not a “thing.” It’s an experience, meaning that it is a relationship – so it is not possible to squeeze it into a fixed word definition. Like all rivers and relationships, beauty is fluid. The best we can do it recognize and appreciate being part of the relationship. We can approach it through language but will never capture it.

The English language is hard. It turns everything into a noun, a thing. I just wrote “being part of the relationship.” Even if I’d written, “being a participant in the relationship,” I’d still be stuck in the noun-trap. Participant (a thing) in another thing called “relationship”. It’s no wonder we have such difficulty wrapping our small-noun-minds around huge-global-relationships like climate change. Through language we can easily compartmentalize the most intimate of interrelationships; as a dedicated thing, climate, has nothing to do with me, also a thing. Two things rather than one relationship. Where’s a verb when you need it?

It’s always there. Our language prejudices us against our interconnectivity.

If Kerri and I have a cathedral, a place of worship, it is nature. Our trails. We go there to get quiet. To clear our busy minds. We go there when we have questions too big to merely solve. We go there when we are overwhelmed and need to ground ourselves. We go there to fill up on inspiration. We go there for the same reason we each go to our studios – to enter a conscious relationship with something bigger than our little selves. To experience that which cannot be defined. We go there to release the noun-mind, the problem-solver, and enter the relationship with beauty. To stand in another word that, like beauty, is a flowing river, impossible to contain: possibility.

Always With Us/As It Is © 2004 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about CATHEDRALS

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buymeacoffee is an action, a verb, that has positive impact on the pronoun in the phrase.

See The Spiral [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

20 asked if we saw the milky way when we were living on the island. As seen from space, two arms spiraling from a center. A spiral of billions of stars. From our seat on the island, as is true from most places on earth on cloudless nights, we saw the milky haze.

John and I often discussed the Fibbonacci sequence. The numbers of spirals, the keeper of the golden ratio. “It’s everywhere in nature,” he said. “We just don’t see it.”

Spirals in the stars. Spirals in the seeds of sunflowers. Macro to micro, through-and-through. And how is it that we routinely miss our interrelationship with all things?

“The cosmos is within us. We are made of star-stuff. We are a way for the universe to know itself.” ~ Carl Sagan

embraced now, 48x36IN, mixed media

read Kerri’s blogpost about SPIRALS

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