With Abandon [David’s blog on KS Friday]

It was my favorite paradox-quote of the week: “The discipline is free association,” he said. Horatio was describing his daily Wordle addiction and extended it to a metaphor for deeper art processes. Horatio is a poet, a writer, a painter, a filmmaker…Like all artists, he understands the necessity of left-brain discipline: technique and function. Color theory. Story structure. Yet, the ultimate discipline, the doorway to flow, is through the right-brain and requires the exercise of letting go of the left-brain-everything-you-think-you-know.

My teachers in theatre school often said on opening night, “Now, all you need do is let go and trust your work.” Let go of listening to yourself. Let go of your internal editor. Let go of self-judgement. Let go of your need to control. Open your heart. Dance the dance without inhibition. Dance the dance with abandon.

Leave your big ole brain behind.

The discipline of free association. It is a practice with layers. Like all life-practices it has no end; it has nothing at all to do with achievement. It’s a discipline like mindfulness is a discipline (a misnomer: mindfulness should be called sense-fullness). The practice becomes a way of living.

Approaching the park she stopped suddenly. I learned early in our life together that walks with Kerri are exercises in seeing. She sees a world that is mostly invisible to me because I am most often lost in my thoughts. She allows her eyes to roam without presupposition. Now, when she stops, before she shows me her photograph, I play the game of trying to see what grabbed her attention, what captured her eye. Inevitably, I am surprised by what she shows me. Her open focus is receptive. She doesn’t predict. She doesn’t seek. She responds. She sees composition beyond what she thinks-is-there. A tree. The lake. A strip of green.

She illuminates for me the extraordinary in the ordinary.

“How did you see that?” I ask.

She shrugs and says, “I don’t know. It was right there.”

To free associate one needs first to be free of preconception. To step on the stage, having done all the work and still be able to say, “Let’s see what happens.”

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE TREE

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A Refresher [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Jim E guided us – actors and directors – through an exercise he called The Spirit of Play. He was a master teacher. Afterward I made copious notes so I, too, might lead others to their spirit of play.

Through my time in the theatre I guided many groups through the sequence. Later, in the corporate world, finally understanding the essence beyond the progression of steps, I led lawyers, business folk, teachers, coaches, consultants…through variations of Jim’s original workshop, all meant to bring people back to themselves, back to their spirit of play. It was my north star, “People just want to play,” I assured my doubtful collaborators.

Play is an umbrella big enough to safely contain the serious stuff. The serious stuff by itself is too small a container to allow for play. The inspiration-well will always run dry if play is banished from consideration. Unfettered imagination, freedom of exploration and expression, so natural as a child, is shackled when the spirit of play is burdened by a purpose called win or lose.

I recently reminded myself that cloud gazing feels good and requires no other purpose for doing it.

Clearly needing a refresher for my own spirit of play, I went into the studio, pulled out eight canvases, mixed a bucket of paint, grabbed several big tools, scrapers and rags, and to the tunes of Jerry’s jazz band, I spattered, pulled, rolled, scraped, smeared. No thought was allowed, not goal was considered. Nothing serious was entertained. I dropped my very-important-role of “artist” and laughed and laughed.

KDot & DDot See An Owl, 24″x48″, acrylic

read Kerri’s blogpost about CLOUDS

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Follow The Hummingbird [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

If you want to understand the power of story – if you care to discover how every cultural story is both universal and deeply personal, take the time to read and reread and reread Martín Prechtel’s small book, The Disobedience of the Daughter of the Sun. After telling the story, he peels back the layers of understanding, the story of the daughter’s disobedience is a roadmap to an intentional life. It is connective tissue to generational wisdom:

“…that though we as listeners have the illusion that we have jumped into the story, the story has actually jumped into us and uses our lives to tell out its story.”

Sitting in our backyard, the sun lowering in the sky, the hummingbird arrived. A hummingbird is featured prominently in the The Disobedience of the Daughter of the Sun and this little visitor brought the story to my mind. Like all deep-story-roots, it is a tale as relevant to us as it is to the Indigenous people who live it – to keep the story alive.

“This is a commentary on the inevitable human problem of tribalism and the tragic results of ethnocentricity. It reminds us that a preoccupation with purity is a sign that a people have lost their real stories, lost their place in history, lost their land and relationship with nature and in an effort to be “someone” they engineer mythologies that are rationalist inventions to corroborate a pure ancestry. This same rationalism probably killed their stories and their Indigenous relationship with the land to begin with.”

Have you ever read anything that so accurately describes our struggle in these un-United States? As we witness the scrubbing of DEI initiatives, the blatant and brutal whitewashing of our nation’s history in order to engineer and perpetuate a mythology of white male purity, a made-up tale planted in the shallow barren soil of nationalist Christianity…we see the undeniable sign that we have lost our real story.

As is true of all great storytellers, Martín guides us toward hope and renewal:

“The story of their cultural loss should be their story, and from that grief they could grow a new culture. If you go back far enough, all people are mixed no matter what they say, and that is no disgrace.”

There is a path. It begins with grieving our loss. Together. And then, there is this:

“The story also says that a peoples’ attachment to their homeland and customs is necessary, wonderful, and life-giving, but should never be allowed to fuel a destructive chauvinism that excludes the rest of the world’s love for its own life and land.”

These are just a few of the lessons carried within an ancient Mayan tale. They are relevant to us today. We need only care enough to open our hearts and listen. And listen again. And then simmer in the slow opportunity that avails itself in the land beyond “problem-solving”.

The promise of our crossroads nation: to grow a new culture. Isn’t that the heart of our matter? Out of many, one.

There’s a hummingbird that can show us the way.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE HUMMINGBIRD

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An Audacious Thing [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

I love it when the parks department rakes the beach. It reminds me of a Zen garden. Yohaku-no-bi: “The beauty of blank space.” I read that Zen gardens are meant for contemplation rather than meditation. Intentional thought rather than quieting the mind. What could be a better topic of contemplation than the beauty of blank space?

I have given much of my life to sitting before a blank canvas contemplating possibilities. Raking the sand in my garden.

Today Dwight flies to Portugal where he will embark on a pilgrimage. I love what he wrote as he prepared for his adventure: “…what audacious thing might occur to me when I let my mind get quiet?” Embracing the opportunity and the unknown!”

I flipped his words for contemplation: When I let my mind get quiet what audacious thing might occur to me?” Following a sentiment attributed to Aristotle, if “nature abhors a vacuum”, then a quiet mind is an invitation to the audacious.

A blank canvas. A quiet mind. An audacious thing. An embrace of the unknown opportunity. Beauty.

I didn’t intend it but I just wrote a haiku, a send off for Dwight using his own words:

An audacious thing:

An embrace of the unknown.

Opportunity.

Walk in quiet beauty, my friend.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE BEACH

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For As Long As It Takes [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Dogga lays in the doorway and snoozes. When he hears me coming his little Aussie-dog tail wags. It is a siren call, impossible to pass without kneeling and giving him a pet. And, in those few moments my world becomes a better place.

During the time that my life was coming apart, suddenly without a place to live or the resources to rent another apartment, Carol showed up. I hadn’t seen her in a few years. She found me. She tossed a set of keys to me. “You’re staying with me,” she said. “As long as it takes.” In that moment, my world became a better place.

I have hundreds of those stories. They are ubiquitous and happen every day. I see them all around me when I pay attention.

“I love the sunshine on the quilt,” she said a moment ago. A tiny thing. The warmth of the spring sun a welcome visitor after the cold days of winter. In the sensual beauty of sun on the quilt and her deep appreciation of the moment, my world was made a better place.

Yesterday I read Marion Milner’s words in The Marginalian about the narrow focus of reason and the wide focus of sensation. The narrow focus, purpose-driven, is always seeking happiness in some other place. The wide focus, sensory, is always present in the moment – where happiness is found. She wrote, “I did not know that I could only get the most out of life by giving myself up to it.” Her words made my world a better place. An affirmation.

Touch is a word of the senses. Touch a life and, in return, life with touch you. Touch with simple appreciation and the world becomes a better place.

In the wide focus of the sensation there is no end, no goal, no achievement, no measurement. It is end-less.

In the narrow focus of mind our clocks would have us believe that we are in a race to a deadline. It is a dedication to ends.

In the vast field beyond purpose and gain there is wonder. It is time-less. Touch life with appreciation, with eyes or ears or fingers or taste – and life will fill you with appreciation.

Someone once told me that the world does not need healing. We do. And the healing we need is right at our fingertips. It is the sun on our faces, it is to feel the pull of the wagging tale, to kneel down and fall into a rich loving pet of appreciation. It is to open our very narrow focus, feel deeply, and toss keys to someone in need, saying, “For as long as it takes.”

read Kerri’s blogpost about HEALING THE WORLD

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Our Human Purpose [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

It really boils down to a mistake in purpose.

The purpose of business is profit.

The purpose of government is public service.

When government serves a profit motive – the motive of business – it loses sight of its unique purpose: service to the public. It fundamentally loses its reason for being.

We on the woke-side-of-the-spectrum believe the maga-movement to be misguided because they rallied behind a business motive to solve the problems of government – thereby making the problems worse. A government that prioritizes profit motives over public service is destined to fail.

What the MAGA-mob doesn’t see is that we are all pissed off for the same reason: public service has been co-opted by self-interest. The top 1% now own and control more wealth than the bottom 90%. The solution is not to throw gasoline on the fire. The solution is not to tear down democracy. The solution is to reclaim the purpose of government.

On the trail, people are beautiful because they support each other. They share a common purpose. They inhabit a common story. They know that success on the trail is a team sport. It is an infinite game rather than a win/lose contest. It favors generosity rather than meanness.

We will know when we’ve recovered the purpose of our government when we – all of us on this national trail – favor generosity rather than revel in unkindness. Service to others – supporting and being supported – is what makes us beautiful specifically because it fulfills our human purpose.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BEING HUMAN

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Small Things [David’s blog on KS Friday]

We took a break and sat outside, soaking up the sun. Had we continued working we’d have missed the hummingbird, the first of the season. You’d have thought by our reaction to the hummingbird sighting that we just scored the winning goal in the World Cup finals. It’s what I love about how we are walking through the world. Small things are cause for big celebration.

We moved the bags of leaves to the curb for pick-up. The bags were sitting on the driveway beneath the bird feeder. After we removed the bags, Kerri spotted some wriggling worms. “It’s not a good thing to be a worm wriggling beneath a bird feeder,” she remarked, lifting them one-by-one and gently placing them in the grass away from the feeder. Small things. Big empathy.

It seems in a single day Breck’s many buds popped open as leaves. They are yet teeny-tiny but perfectly shaped aspen leaves, ready for quaking. They catch the evening light and literally glow. “You go, Breck!” we cheer our hardy aspen tree. For us, Breck is a symbol of perseverance. If at first you don’t succeed…Those new leaves are very small things but they invoke in us big, ancient hope.

We ask, “What we can possibly do in the face of the assault-from-within on our democracy?” Small things.

In the past two days I’ve seen pleas for support from several small arts organizations. The current administration has eliminated their grant money. Their survival is now tenuous at best. They are small things that could use our big support. “Theater, in particular, invites us to imagine another’s perspective, to reckon with injustice, and to practice compassion in real time. To defund it is to silence one of the sacred spaces where we learn to be human together.” ~ Chris Domig, Artistic Director, Sea Dog Theater.

Consider helping the many, many sacred art spaces in this country to survive – and perhaps thrive – in this time of silencing voices.* For them, our support is no small thing [My short list: Sea Dog Theater Company. Seven Devils New Play Foundary. Changing Faces Theater Company. Your local companies – museums, galleries, dance companies, writer’s retreats, symphonies…the storytellers, the tradition-keepers, the mirrors to power – all depend upon grants and donations. All are in danger of disappearing. Help them in any small way if you can].

We are very small things but no less capable than Breck, or the hummingbird, or the worms of inspiring hope, evoking empathy for otherness, of celebrating all that makes us human.

We are, by ourselves, small things but united we are capable of a big, loud, unified voice – we are capable to sending a potent message to those who fear and would silence the power of the arts, those who would shutter the spaces where we learn to be human together.

*non-profits, like your local food banks or social service organizations…are also under threat. Find them. Help them in any small way that you can.

Nurture Me on the album Released From The Heart © 1995 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about SMALL THINGS

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The Question Of Orbs [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

“Find a place inside where there’s joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.” ~ Joseph Campbell

She told me this photograph was for me. My paintings often include orbs. I wasn’t aware of my orb-inclusion until the day many years ago that I showed Jim E. my paintings. He asked, “What’s up with the orbs?” Confused, I examined my own paintings. It was a hysterical moment of self-discovery.

At first I liked to think of the orbs as spirits. Guardians or messengers. I am an intuitive painter so I assigned some Glenda-the-good-witch sensibility to my ever-present orbs. Later, I imagined they represented unhatched possibilities or germinating ideas. I loved the idea that we are surrounded by bubbles of potential. Now, I have no story at all for them. I like them. They are there. They make me happy. They make compositional sense.

Last night we discussed our broken road path to each other. If this or that had changed, would we have found each other? Would we be living entirely different lives? From this vantage point, our meeting was all but impossible. At the time, what seemed like the worst possible thing – life collapsed in both of our stories – nudged us to somehow bump into each other. Two bubbles in a vast universe.

Now, joy is burning out the pain.

Perhaps my orbs are homage to the wonder of bubbles in the universe? A nod to the unanswerable question of my life path – ours or any life path: is it random or is it destiny?

“Whatever your fate is, whatever the hell happens, you say, ‘This is what I need.’ It may look like a wreck, but go at it as though it were an opportunity, a challenge. If you bring love to that moment–not discouragement–you will find the strength is there…” ~ Joseph Campbell

Meditation, 48″x48″, mixed media

JOY, 50″x56″, mixed media

read Kerri’s blogpost about ORBS


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Cartoon Worthy? [David’s blog on Flawed Wednesday]

It was unusual. The vine coiled around the tree like a boa constrictor. It seemed in no hurry to squeeze the life from its captive, content with the threat of imminent constriction. “Now, that’s a happy thought,” she said.

I’m bumping into a problem I’ve never before encountered. MM is prompting me with many great cartoon ideas borne of the daily outrage from the baggy blue suit and his clown car cabinet. My problem is twofold. First, they lampoon themselves so completely that every drawing seems like been-there-done-that. Since they are already dedicated made-for-tv-cartoon-characters, a kakistocracy (governance by the least competent), the challenge seems less about poking fun and more about cartooning cartoons. It’s dangerously redundant. How does one lampoon a president who posts pictures of himself as the Pope or a Jedi knight? He’s doing an excellent job of making a fool of himself. As is his cheering squad.

Second, their entire media strategy is meant to keep us outraged. Outrage is a very potent drug. Outraged people do not think clearly. They react. They hunker down in their reptile brain. I’m having an inner debate about my part in fueling the outrage. I’d love to draw cartoons that moved folks forward into their neocortex and engage their higher order thinking. Critical thinking is, after all, the enemy to MAGA, the fox, and this Republican administration. “Stop and think about it” is exactly what this administration and their propaganda machine does not want us to do. We might then see what is actually happening behind their comedy-chaos-curtain.

Stop. And think about it:

We have a Republican party whose characters strut like cowboys (even the cowgirls don bulletproof vests and pull their rhetorical pistols at the least sign of altercation) and yet, day after day we witness events like the vomit-inducing-sycophancy of the most recent cabinet meeting. Really. Stop and think about it: emasculation is the price Republicans pay for playing the role of cowboy for their leader. This lean, mean, destruction machine is all strut and no cajones.

Republican cowboys’ self-castration might be a worthy cartoon.

Hypodermic needles filled with outrage might be a worthy cartoon. A drug den of people screaming at each other while the dealer makes off with their wallets and purses.

Legislators who preach free markets but prohibit free thinking – that might be a a worthy cartoon.

The party that loudly promotes itself up as champions of limited government while imposing draconian limits on the rights of the many to give unlimited privilege to the few – that might be worthy. Imagine armored knights high atop war horses trampling unarmed peasant farmers while patting themselves on the back for their strength and courage.

Oops. I’ve worked a circle back to outrage. Outrageous.

One wonders when the red hats will move out of their reptilian brains and recognize that they are wrapped by a boa constrictor. They, too, strut like cowboys and do not see how they castrate themselves. Cartoon worthy? Or simply too sad to stop and think about?

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE VINE

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Prepare [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Lately everything seems to have extra significance. While we pulled all of the pots from the garage in preparation for planting the herb garden and flowers, it occurred to me that we are in preparation for the coming economic crumble. Empty pots brought to mind empty shelves.

When we go grocery shopping we are intentionally stocking up on products that we know will or are already going up in price. Basics like coffee and olive oil. The wave is coming so it feels foolish not to fortify the larder.

“Plan for what it is difficult while it is easy, do what is great while it is small.” ~ Sun Tzu

When I was a lost lad, one of the many books Quinn threw my way was The Art of War by Sun Tzu. His reason had nothing at all to do with war since he was – to his core – a peaceful man, a philosopher. In retrospect I think he was teaching me about preparation. He was guiding me on a path of self-knowledge.

Right now it is easy for us to stock up.

During his first chaotic term, it would have been easy for Mitch McConnell and the Republicans to have voted to convict the twice-impeached president. Their appropriate action, while it was still easy, would have stopped the autocratic impulse in our nation before it toppled our democracy. Now, it is not so easy. They refused to do what was great while it was small. They still could stop it – if they had the courage to do their jobs as prescribed in our Constitution. To date we are witness to their absence of courage. Either that or we are witness to their rejection of democracy and full embrace of fascism.

Perhaps it is not courage they lack but self-knowledge. It brought to mind another quote from Sun Tzu. The important sentiment is the third line in the following quote:

“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.”

They succumb in every battle. So we must prepare.

read Kerri’s blogpost about POTS

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