Follow Kirsten [on Merely A Thought Monday]

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At the end of the day I can say that I’ve coached or mentored many, many people. This is what I’ve learned: most people have a yearning and will take a timid step or two toward it. They will build the studio and then fear going into it. Many take a look at their dream and run screaming away from it.  The dream is too hot. Previous dream-touches came with shame or disappointment. Better to not try at all.

Then, there are those precious few people, those rare birds, that look at the edge and run at it. They jump. Safety, control, and security…fear…have no voice in the pursuit of their dream. Kirsten is one of those rare birds. When I met her, her heart was not happy. She was, I suppose, doing what she thought she should do. And then she saw her dream. In short order, she left her job, her security, her known-prescribed path. She left her should-dos. She dropped it all and ran at the edge and leapt without once looking to see if there was a bottom. She changed her body, her thoughts, her intentions. In a few short years – the blink of an eye where deep change is concerned – she transformed her life from a protected, armored experience, to something more vulnerable, crackling, spontaneous and alive.

She is on an artists’ path. Her life makes no sense to a world that worships 401k’s and picket fences. She works harder than any doctor, grinds out more hours than any accountant, or stock analyst, and does it for a pittance of the pay. Her pay comes from an internal driver, a soul satisfaction. She touches something that cannot be explained or justified. It also, once touched, cannot be denied. She stands solidly and with great intention on the burning point.

She heard the call and heeded it. Now, when we tell people of Kirsten they most often reply, “She’s living the life!” And I want to say, “No! Unlike most people she is living life.” She is one of those rare birds who can say, without doubt or equivocation, “My heart is happy.”

What could be a better gift to give the world – your family and friends – than a happy heart?

 

read Kerri’s blog post on MY HEART IS HAPPY

 

oversizedjoy copley place website box copy

Feel The Light [on KS Friday]

THE LIGHTS song box copy

Dang! My wife, the solo pianist and composer, sings a mean country song complete with mandolin and fiddle! She is, in her heart of hearts, a country music girl. She tells stories and puts them to music (all of her solo piano compositions are great bits of storytelling and if you are ever fortunate enough to attend one of her concerts she will most certainly tell them to you).

Take a peek into her notebooks of unrecorded pieces and you will find songs with a country heart and narrative soul, tales of love lost and found, messages on the wind, broken roads and redemption. Horses and mountain fields and old trucks and yearning for a simpler time. Mandolins everywhere are dying for her to sing these songs! I know I would be if I was a mandolin!

THE LIGHTS is a sweet taste of country music Christmas storytelling. It’s a mother’s tale. A song that is in love with life, and will, in this season of hustle and bustle and stress, weave a bit of warmth around your heart.

THE LIGHTS on the album THE LIGHTS: A CHRISTMAS ALBUM is available on iTunes & CDBaby. Limited hard copies are available here.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about THE LIGHTS

 

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the lights/the lights ©️ 1996 kerri sherwood

Use 1000 Words [on DR Thursday]

Horses Morsel copy

Horses FullSize copy

this may or may not be complete. 48″ x 48″ as yet untitled

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read Kerri’s blog post about this PAINTING

 

oversizedjoy copley place website box copy

Catch The Small [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

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Chasing Dan and Craig through Copley Place in Boston I was amused by the ENORMOUS holiday ornaments either hanging from the rafters or well placed in the walkways by giant designer hands. We were cutting through the mall to avoid the cold. I felt as if I stepped into the movie,The Incredible Shrinking Man. Either that or Richard Serra had taken over the universe and large-scale was the rule-of-the-day.  I became the guy that people avoid, giggling my way through the vigorous sea of shoppers.

I delight in experiences that shock me into SEEING. Moments that take me out of my monkey mind, that jettison me beyond the veil of my incessant (and ridiculous) inner monologue are priceless. To marvel. To laugh. To see with clarity our investments in all the BIG things that do not really matter and catch the few precious small moments that do matter.

Later on the train out of the city, Kerri and I did not talk about the monster ornaments or the massive decorations and ubiquitous lights adorning everything. Selling the season with such gusto! We talked of the moment that Craig slowed down and put his arm around his mother. Just for a moment. Such a small priceless thing to happen amidst so many monumental lovely displays.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about BIG ORNAMENTS

 

oversizedjoy copley place website box copy

 

 

Light The Promise [on Two Artists Tuesday]

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I came into Kerri’s life in the same era that her children, all grown up, moved away to pursue their careers. Our third Christmas together was the first time that neither Kirsten or Craig would be home for the holiday. It was the first without her mother. It was an empty nest Christmas, a broken heart holiday, and unbearable for Kerri. Not knowing what to do with the infinite void, she told me that she wanted to start a new tradition. And, like all good new traditions, she reached deep into the recesses of her childhood and pulled one of her parent’s traditions into the present. We initiated a neighborhood Christmas Eve luminaria party.

After she plays the late service on Christmas Eve, we rush home, change clothes, and with aid of John and Michele, pull the fire pits and a few tables onto the driveway. We load the tables with snacks and wine, start a fire, and line the street with luminaria. Our neighbors and friends gather around the fire, drink grog, tell stories, laugh a lot, and sing a song or two. Last year was bitterly cold and still we stamped our feet and stoked up the fire until the wee hours.

This year will be our 4th annual luminaria party. It is my favorite part of the holiday because it reaches to the very root, to the ancient reason for the season’s celebration. A gathering under the stars, amidst the wood smoke and wine, together we bring an infusion of hope to bridge the infinite void, the aching hearts, with the promise of light’s return.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about THE LUMINARIA PARTY

 

TangoMorsel copy

this one is sold but there are others available and on sale through December 20

 

chicago at christmas website box copy

 

Choose To See Them [on Merely A Thought Monday]

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I love my morning ritual. Babycat bumps my legs, guides me to his bowl. DogDog springs from his crate for a brief pet before bounding outside to clear his zone of squirrels. It is the same everyday. It is always new and different. Both/and.

Something happens when the expectation flips, when the wondrous is sought not in the monumental but in the small, day-to-day experiences. I know it reads like a cliche’ but it is no less true. My morning ritual, your commute, the day’s chore, in truth, is never the same. Each day is new even when we brand it with ‘routine.’

The wondrous sparkles in the routine as well as the profound. Doing the dishes today is not the same as doing them yesterday. It seems obvious. This day of life is not the same as yesterday. Another cliche’ with a truthful center: ‘sameness’ is a lens, an expectation worn on the eyes of the mind. It dulls life before life happens. It is the expectation of tedium. Why expect tedium? Why cultivate apathy? The marvelous, the wondrous becomes visible everywhere when we remove the same-old-same-old lens, the been-there-done-that expectation.

Wondrous things are everywhere. All we need do is choose to see them.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about WONDROUS THINGS

 

art sale december 2018 copy

sale ends december 20

 

 

aspen silver bull website box copy

 

 

 

Give Optimism [on KS Friday]

this season song box copy

Margaret has always been an inspiration to me. She is an artist, a maker of quilts. She is one of those rare and gifted people who enter the room and immediately all hearts are flooded with sunshine. Even on my greyest day she has invoked lightheartedness in me. When I see her and I smile.

Yesterday we received her Christmas card and letter. I can’t wait for Kerri to meet Margaret. She is a bit like Kerri’s mother, Beaky. Bright light, teller of stories. In her letter, Margaret wrote of optimism and enthusiasm, of recognizing early in her life that she’d been given those two important gifts and how they had many times carried her through her challenges.

Kerri’s THIS SEASON could be Margaret’s theme song. It is a stroll of window shopping optimism. It is a quilter making a warm and giggle-inspiring quilt for her grandson. It is a mother’s anticipation of visiting her children. Listening to THIS SEASON I am warmed with a quiet enthusiasm. What could be better gifts to give or receive?

 

THIS SEASON on the album THIS SEASON available on iTunes and CDBaby. Better yet! Kerri is having an ABUNDANCE SALE of THIS SEASON. She is selling the CD for $5 to the first 100 people who order. Go here to grab your copy

read Kerri’s blog post about THIS SEASON

 

art sale december 2018 copy

 

onthecapecloseup website box copy

this season/this season ©️ 2005 kerri sherwood

Make Space [A SALE on DR Thursday]

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What art offers is space — a certain breathing room for the spirit. ~John Updike

I feel most alive when I am painting. If I’m out of my center, upset, in despair, feeling blue, or swimming in a pool of self-pity, the quickest cure, the best medicine, is a trip to the studio. Life makes sense there. The conversations I have with canvas are not always easy but they are always generative. Love is like that.

And, like most artists, I love to paint but feel utterly inept when it comes to selling what I paint. Introverts are notoriously lousy salespeople. Inevitably, things stack up.

Give me a museum and I’ll fill it. ~Pablo Picasso

I am at least one museum short and need to clear some space. In the old days I would burn paintings, paint over them or give them away but nowadays Kerri would kill me if I tried any of those space-making strategies. Dying at my wife’s hands to create space seems counter-productive. She suggested A Sale.

The days you work are the best days. ~Georgia O’Keeffe

My best days are yet to come. A new wave of inspiration is rolling in.

One’s art goes as far and as deep as one’s love goes. ~Andrew Wyeth

When you visit my site, you’ll see that I’ve listed some minimum prices. If you see a painting you love, reach for it. Make an offer.

The chief enemy of creativity is ‘good’ sense. ~Pablo Picasso

And so. Love runs deep. It makes no sense. The best things in life never do.

The No Sense No Space Sale.

art sale december 2018 copy

read Kerri’s blog post about THE SALE

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Love The Melt [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

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This melty fellow reminded me of my favorite Flawed Cartoon. It was among the first in my Flawed Cartoon canon and makes me smile every time I revisit it. Becoming meets Being. Hopes and dreams always come with realities attached and they can be very funny (especially when the attachments are someone else’s).

Tis the season of existential pondering and life review. In the past month, I’ve repeatedly heard the old and wizened caution the young and ambitious that time passes quickly. Your kids will be grown before you know it. Be careful what you wish for. Appreciate your moments. You are your choices. One minute you are a snowflake with possibilities….

Winter solstice. This season when darkest night gives way to the slow return of light. Isn’t that the epicenter of hope? It’s good news for you and me. Not so much for those men and women made of snow. As is true with all things, humor is relative. It’s only funny when it happens to someone else. Of course, with enough cycles, the sun will make puddles of us all (just kidding. Well, okay, not really. But don’t you think this puddle thing would have made a very funny Flawed Cartoon? Why are my ears growing? I think the sunless days are making my mind sag…).

 

SNOWMAN BIG COPY Master

 

read Kerri’s blog post about the SNOWMAN

 

art sale december 2018 copy

bong trail, wisconsin website box copy

 

Flawed Cartoons/products ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood

Be The Magic [on Two Artists Tuesday]

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A modern dinosaur hopped by our car. It left tracks in the snow otherwise we might have never known! What I love most about the local dinosaur population is that we never tire of seeing them or evidence of their travels. We have a dinosaur feeder just outside our sun room window and have wiled away more than a few hours watching them fly in for a seed fix.

I believe we are all the time surrounded by magic and miracles but remain largely blind to their existence. Birds are ancient. If you want to take a step back into the Mesozoic Era, just listen to the sound of a Sandhill Crane. Magic and miraculous.

Every time that I hear that there is only one true religion I’m tempted to take the speaker by the elbow and lead them outside to look at the night sky. If they understand what they are seeing – indeed, what they are experiencing – they should laugh aloud and clap their hands with glee at the utter absurdity of their smallness and the enormity of their unimaginable existence. “Astronomers estimate there are about 100 thousand million stars in the Milky Way alone. Outside that, there are millions upon millions of other galaxies also! “  In the midst of millions upon millions – an infinity beyond any of our smallish brain pans to comprehend – might it be a bit of hubris to claim ownership of the one true anything? Go outside and consider it. Miraculous. Magic.

The dinosaur tracks were gone the next day. Melted. My 30’s and 40’s are gone, too. Passing. Tracks merely.

I suppose it is our lot to squeeze ourselves into these too tight boxes. Rushing life most certainly will have you focus on your long list of things to accomplish, on the empty places pocking your wall of respect, the plaque engraved on your legacy. In the face of so much track-making, it takes a bit of effort, an intention of slowing down to pay attention, to listen to the bird song, to see that the dinosaur recently hopped by, to turn your face to the stars and fall with abandon into the night sky. To be the magic. Miraculous.

 

read Kerri’s blog post on SWEET TRACKS

 

jumping squirrel tracks website box copy