It’s Only Natural [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

This is a photograph of diversity: thriving tomato plants, basil, rosemary, cilantro, parsley, peppers, and autumn clematis. Look closer and you will spot bees, caterpillars and garden spiders. The chipmunk trail runs directly behind the bench. It is a tale of interconnectivity. Biodiversity is nature’s secret of success. Symbiotic relationships make the garden flourish.

Monoculture, on the other hand, all but guarantees a system’s collapse. It is true in nature. It is true of us as well; as human beings have learned again and again when soiling the nest, we are not separate from nature. We are not above it all. We are one thin ozone away from annihilation.

The word “symbiotic” comes from the Greek word for “living together.” Our democratic experiment is a test of human cultural symbiosis. For those of us who value actual history over made-up dross, it is undeniable that innovation has always thrived at the crossroads of cultures and the USA is an intentional crossroads.

White supremacy has been an ugly thorn in our democratic saddle since the nation’s inception but thankfully, until now, has never held the reins of power. As we watch the ICE horror story of racial profiling – astonishingly permitted by the Supreme Court, the assault on DEI, the erasure of people of color from our history, the vilification of Democrats (the party of diversity), we are witness to the insane attempt to force a monoculture into existence. And, as the insane – and inane – attempt at whitewashing our very colorful nation progresses, we step ever closer to our system’s collapse.

White fragility is at the epicenter of white supremacy. It claims to be a master race but fundamentally fears looking at its face in the mirror. It flees criticism. It touts being atop a pyramid built upon the labor and innovation of everyone else. It purports to represent the average citizen while embracing the economics of oligarchy (neoliberalism) and the politics of division. It knows how to pillage and rape and rig the game but understands almost nothing of building true strength, power, community and unity. It doesn’t have the first idea of the reality of symbiosis; it swirls in the fantasy-strut of mythical cowboy independence.

It is not a mystery that our democratic garden is in danger of dying. Perhaps, if we survive this race to destruction, we will at last be able to look in the mirror, see-embrace-and-deal with our full history. We will insist on building our home on the truth. All of it. Perhaps we will rise from the ashes without the idiotic idea that any race is superior to any other and truly, fully embrace the beating heart of our democratic union: that all people are created equal, that all people are protected equally under the law, that it is our experiment in diversity that makes – and has made – this nation great all along.

Symbiosis. Diversity. The same relationships that make our garden thrive will make our nation thrive. It’s only natural.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE GARDEN BENCH

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Ho-Ho-Ho [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Evidently the elves had a bit too much nog and crashed the Wishing Palace into a tree. They must have been flying without a license since they seem to have crashed-and-run, leaving the Palace wedged into a tree with one runner missing. Will Santa be pissed? I’m not sure. Is jolly ole St. Nick capable of being cross? I imagine the sudden loss of The Wishing Palace during an drunken-elfen-joy-ride might raise his ire. In any event, I’d love to hear the whopper the elves tell Santa to explain the crash. Ho-Ho-Ho!

On second thought, instead of fleeing the scene, I’m not sure why the elves didn’t rush into the Palace and make a wish for an immediate full-Palace-repair. I mean, what good is a Wishing Palace if the wishes made in the Palace – especially wishes made by the elves that drive it – aren’t certain to come true? At the very least they could wish to keep the wreckage a secret from Santa – at least until they sober up and figure out how to repair the damage and return the Palace to its parking spot at the North Pole.

Apollo’s son, Phaeton, took the sun-chariot out for a spin and, like the elves, it was too much for him to handle. He couldn’t control the horses. Zeus had to strike Phaeton with a lightning bolt before the lad drove the chariot into the ground, scorching the earth in the process. If Apollo could enter the Wishing Palace he’d certainly wish to go back in time so he might prevent his son from taking his fatal joy ride.

The annals of time are filled with stories of incompetence at the helm.

The current administration, like Phaeton or the elves, have the reigns of the nation and have taken it out for a wild ride. Despite their bravado, despite the tale that they spin, it is increasingly clear that they are either too full of nog to hold democracy’s course or they do not have the fortitude to drive a constitutional republic.

In either case, we will very soon find ourselves lodged in a tree or can expect a lightning bolt that will end the joy ride. We can only hope that it’s merely a runner that we lose and that the crash sobers us. We can only hope that we have the wherewithal to repair what is broken. Since wishes seem empty at this point, we can at least hope for a republican party that remembers that governance begins with communicating with the other side. The art of compromise – the epicenter of democracy – begins with coming to the table willing to discuss solutions.

In any event, it’s not much fun listening to the whoppers that the republicans are telling, the fomenting of violence and division, their dedication to flying blind by hiding the economic indicators and jobs numbers. One thing is certain: to explain the crash they’ll no-doubt blame Obama or Biden or democrats. Taking responsibility for their actions is not in their wheelhouse. They’ll crash the Palace and run amok blaming everything under the sun but themselves. In response to their grand sham, I suggest we be like Santa and meet their reckless incompetence with a sober vote and a hearty Ho-Ho-Ho!

read Kerri’s blog about THE WISHING PALACE

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So Here It Is [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Well, you’ve cracked the sky, scrapers fill the air
But will you keep on building higher
‘Til there’s no more room up there
Will you make us laugh, will you make us cry?
Will you tell us when to live, will you tell us when to die?

I know we’ve come a long way
We’re changing day to day
But tell me, where do the children play?

~ Cat Stevens, Where Do The Children Play

Kerri regularly tells me to “gear down.” She’s asking me to simplify my thoughts so they are more accessible. It’s the reason I nodded knowingly when I read this in Thom Hartmann’s newsletter:

“The reason we’re at a pivotal moment in America is because most people don’t know how to answer this question: “How do you know when you’re really no longer living in a democracy?”

He makes a great point. Even though we have tanks rolling down civilian streets, masked thugs plucking people without warrant or due process, concentration camps popping up in swamps, the collapse of checks-and-balances, the intentional scrubbing of our history, an all-out assault on diversity and civil rights, a Supreme Court regularly ruling against the Constitution in support of a single man consolidating power… “Up until the last few days, most Americans didn’t think we’d lost our freedoms or are about to.”

He continues: “But everybody knows Jimmy Kimmel. So the new understanding is: ‘You know you don’t live in a free country any more when comedians can no longer criticize the president.‘”

So, here it is. Geared down so all can understand. We don’t live in a free country anymore. We can either mumble our way into autocracy or we can open our mouths and regain our freedoms. As Stephen Colbert said, “We’re all Jimmy Kimmel now.”

read Kerri’s blogpost about FREE SPEECH

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Black and White [David’s blog on KS Friday]

“Despair is a narcotic. It lulls the mind into indifference.” ~ Charlie Chaplin

It turns out that there are some things that are black or white. For instance, we either have free speech or we don’t. We either have the protections of due process and habeas corpus or we don’t. We either adhere to the Constitution or we don’t. We either have a free press or we don’t. We either champion the truth or we don’t.

We either have a democracy or we don’t.

Right now, in this moment, where all of the above are concerned, we don’t.

I’m still shaking my head at the 90 million voters who did not turn out to vote in the last election. Were they indifferent? There is certainly enough despair to go around given the sucking of wealth from the many into the hands of the few. We either exercise our power in democracy by voting or we don’t.

The system is either built for all of us or it is tilted toward the privileged few. And that seems to be the line of discord in our short history, the rope that we perpetually tug in our incessant internal war: who do we mean when we say, “We the people”? It either includes all of us in the promise or it doesn’t.

We either protect the dream or we don’t.

Lately, in a mass capitulation of courage by corporate America, the legal profession, universities…we’ve learned that despair is not the only narcotic that lulls the mind into indifference. Profit might be mightier than despair in producing indifference. We’re literally seeing our nation sell its soul. It’s become abundantly clear what is valued and what is not.

Democracy, for the morbidly wealthy, seems no match for private gain. It’s up to the rest of us to wake up, shake off indifference and loudly remind the gluttonous few that fascism has no place in a democratic republic, that our rights and protected freedoms are not for sale or to be used as leverage for the corporate merger.

We either protect the dream now or we lose it. We’re standing at the line. All of us. It makes no difference if you are on the blue team or the red. The orchestrated collapse of our democracy, the loss of protected freedoms, of life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness, the erasure of our nation of laws and not men…applies equally to all of us.

It turns out that somethings are not black or white, they are black and white.

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

read Kerri’s blogpost on BLACK AND WHITE

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The More Difficult Path [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

“Tenderness and kindness are not signs of weakness and despair, but manifestations of strength and resolution.” ~ Kahlil Gibran

As her parting words when it was time for us to go, Beaky always said, “Be kind to each other.” She said it more as a wish or a prayer than as wise counsel.

In this latest era, we’re hearing a lot about hate speech. I believe Beaky’s farewell sentiment came from the experience of a long life: she knew that hostility and indifference are easy. Meanness is low hanging fruit, easily picked. Kindness, on the other hand, requires dedicated intentionality. It is a mandate to relinquish senseless power games.

Her parting words might as well have been, “Be conscious. Give your attention to each other.”

In the school of “Your Words Matter,” there is a clear distinction between the language of violence and the language of benevolence: hate speech rejects personal responsibility. Kindness requires an embrace of personal responsibility.

It is easy to point a finger and spew word-bile. It is satisfying to score a point and walk away. Demolition is elementary. It requires no special talent or skill.

Decency, kindness, generosity…considering the impact of words and actions on others – is certainly the more difficult path. To be aware of the impact of words and actions takes…well…awareness. Awareness and concern for others takes courage, strength and resolution – and is nothing less than the blossom of respect for your self.

With some corrections, it is finished: 66&19, 31.5″x36″ mixed media

read Kerri’s blogpost about the DAISY BUTTON

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An Experience [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

“In the modern era, one of the most active metaphors for the spiritual project is “art.” ~ Susan Sontag (via The Marginalian)

It was within a meditation on silence that Susan Sontag wrote this thought. With planes and trains and automobiles, with cell phones and 24 hour news cycles, with weed whackers and garbage trucks and sirens, with podcasts to plug into and streaming on demand…opportunities for silence are rare, indeed.

All of my life I have retreated to my studio to “get quiet.” I’ve learned – and it seems to me a no-brainer -that there is a direct connection between silence-of-the-mind and presence. And, the experience of ‘something-bigger-than-me” can only happen in the present moment. It’s a direct experience, not an abstraction.

Marion Milner – under the pen name of Joanna Field – wrote that happiness cannot be found in the narrow focus of purpose because it lives “out there”, it promises fulfillment somewhere in a distant imagined future. It’s only in the broad focus of the senses that happiness can be found because it is immediate. Happiness is only possible/available/accessible in-the-here-and-now. It’s an experience, not an abstraction.

Art brings us into the present moment. Art has the power to break through isolating mental abstractions into the shared space of experience.

Joseph Campbell wrote that our endeavor in meaning-making is the opposite of our distant ancestors. For them, meaning was made (or found) through the group. We are tasked with finding it within ourselves.

“It” is never found in insistent preachers or rule-books or exhibitions of righteousness. These are the noisy aspects of the narrow focus erected on a platform of “should”.

If “it” is to be found, if “it” is to be experienced, inner silence is the threshold.

Take a walk in nature. Become captive to the color of the leaves. Entice the quiet found in the studio. These are the secrets of the composer whose music lifts your spirit, the poet who stirs your humanity, the dancer who challenges your idea of what’s possible…all bringing you into the dazzling present moment. It’s a place the artist knows well, an experience beyond words.

read Kerri’s blogpost about RED LEAVES

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Great And Immeasurable [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

It was so long between sightings of the frog that I began to think I’d imagined it. The first sighting, so late in the year, long after we’d stopped looking for a frog in the pond, seemed miraculous. And then the frog seemingly vanished.

Days passed. Weeks. We thought that it was a traveler and had simply stopped in our tiny pond for an overnight. Or, maybe, it was pond shopping and considered ours to be lacking.

And then, a few days ago, we tip-toed to the water’s edge, and found our frog enjoying the shallows. It is without doubt the smallest frog we’ve ever had in residence and so we named it Little. Surprisingly, Little tolerated Kerri’s photo shoot without a single complaint or sudden disappearance into the murky deep. We were giddy with excitement.

At a time of historical chaos and national antipathy, we experience surprising moments of affirmation that the center – that our center – is solid: that we were giddy with excitement at the appearance of a little frog in our tiny pond was just such a moment.

“If you will stay close to nature, to its simplicity, to the small things hardly noticeable, those things can unexpectedly become great and immeasurable.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

read Kerri’s blogpost about LITTLE

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Above All Else [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“Life is strange. You arrive with nothing, spend your whole life chasing everything, and still leave with nothing. Make sure your soul gains more than your hands.” ~ unknown

As a young artist Roger often asked, “What is sufficient?” If you solely choose an artist’s path – or an artist’s path chooses you – the odds of realizing a modicum of financial prosperity are slim. An artist in the USA necessarily makes peace with chasing a different kind of wealth. Soul wealth. Yet, the question of sufficiency is important to ask since it is the thin ice that many artists – especially as they age – disappear beneath. It is impossible to live on the bottom of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs indefinitely. Perpetually struggling for food, heat, and shelter will inevitably drown the muse.

What is sufficient to keep the muse happy and fed?

Kerri came home and told me of a conversation she had with Steve. Most people – including us – want nothing more than to live a simple life. We do not need to own yachts or mansions. With the disappearance of the middle-class, the stagnation of wages, the wealth of the nation running to the top 1%…more and more people in these un-United States are sliding to the bottom of the Hierarchy of Needs. It’s one reason why there is so much anger out there. Safety is further and further out of reach for more and more people. Sufficiency is nowhere to be found.

We watched a conversation between two people who make their living on social media. Their discussion revolved around the cancer that social media has become. They explained that the algorithms sort to the extremes. The middle ground is nowhere to be found in social media conversations. Extremist views are elevated while moderate voices are minimized. In their conversation, they asked their substantial viewership to turn off their screens and go outside and sit with real people. Real connection is only possible when sitting face to face with real people – and that’s the only place where we might reclaim our common ground, our communal sufficiency, our safety – especially with those whose opinions differ from our own. Middle ground is a shared space.

Craig enticed me into a long text conversation about artistry. It made me reflect on what I believe and how many great mentors and teachers I have enjoyed. In my life I have been rich in life-guides. I still am. I told him that all of the great artists I have known – or who have been inspirations for me – have wrestled with their demons and, therefore, were fearless at asking hard questions of themselves and of others. Their hard questions, in the form of lyrics or images or dances or compositions or characters that they played…ultimately transformed their demons into teachers. They walked toward their fears and made them into something beautiful.

I lost three of my guide stars in the past few years. They created lives of sufficiency. They thrived beyond any measure that money could bring. Simple lives marked by a real connection with real people. Lives lived in conscious – and joyful – support of other people. Three rich souls who gained in their lives more than a mansion or piles of money that they would have never been able to spend. They brought people together.

The single thing that I remember about these three artists – above all else – above all that they taught me – is their abundant laughter. Isn’t that the sign of a good life well-lived? A life to emulate?

read Kerri’s blogpost about SOUL GAIN

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Just Another Week [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Winner of the most astute quote of the week: “It seems like we’re totally living in insanity,” he said, “every moment of every day.” ~ Erwin McClone, from the NY Times newsletter 9.12.25

But that’s not the winning quote. The Times reported that McClone also said that the killing (of Charlie Kirk) seemed to arise from an animus that was increasingly disconnected from facts, accountability and reason.

We are living inside the sickness of an administration that is increasingly disconnected from facts, accountability and reason. And, it’s not as if they started from a stable grounding in facts, a willingness to accept responsibility for their actions or a solid relationship with reason.

This week we experienced yet another shooting at a school. What else? The Supreme Court okayed racial profiling. The president declared war on Chicago. Despite a mountain of evidence to the contrary, he vehemently denies any connection to the Epstein Files and wants us to move on. He asks us – in all seriousness – to disconnect from the obvious facts, release him (and others) from accountability for their actions, and to unplug from our reason: to believe what he says and not what we see. We saw him, without evidence of any kind, incite violence against the democrats, blaming them for the murder of Charlie Kirk.

Animus. Increasingly disconnected from facts, accountability and reason.

Just another week inside the sickness.

read Kerri’s blogpost about AMERICA THE BEAUTIFUL

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See Good Fortune [David’s blog on KS Friday]

One of the first things Kerri gave me was a small silver acorn. I carry it in a pocket of my wallet. For her family it is a symbol of abundance and good fortune. I have grown to love the acorn bump that now defines my wallet. It is a constant reminder: I carry good fortune with me wherever I go.

This past week we’ve both had miserable colds. We do everything together. Except for our run-in with Covid last fall, it’s been years since either of us has been knocked out by any ailment, especially the common cold. Our timing is not ideal since the weather has been gorgeous. Fall has arrived, warm sun and cool shade are calling. Needing to get out of bed and out of the house, we drove to our loop trail. We walked slowly, moaning and groaning and laughing at our creaky progress – yet the warmth of the autumn sun penetrated all the way to our bones. Our walk was exhausting but it was good medicine.

As Kerri often does, she stopped abruptly, pulled out her camera, walked back a few steps and knelt on the trail. “What do you see?” I asked.

“An affirmation,” she said, showing me the photo of the acorn. “See? Good fortune.”

See good fortune. It’s been a recurring theme lately. See how we are supported. See the abundance of our lives.

It’s Viktor Frankel: bring rather than seek the meaning in your life. “I carry some serious good fortune in my wallet,” I said.

“I know,” she smiled. “And now look! We are finding some on our trail.”

PEACE on the album AS IT IS © 2004 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE ACORN

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