new growth | The Direction of Intention

Ponder It [on DR Thursday]

Posted on July 27, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

As you know, Breck-the-aspen-tree almost didn’t make it. Three years in a pot and one ill-conceived planting in the backyard left our poor Breck withered. A new spot in the yard restored Breck’s health but her growth was minimal. We removed dead branches. We assumed we’d stunted Breck’s growth so she would always be beloved and diminutive.

And then…It seems Breck is growing an inch every day. We began the summer looking down at her. Now, we crane our necks to see the new leaves sprouting at the top of her gangly reach. We joke that Breck is doing her Jack-In-The-Beanstalk imitation, though, at this rate of growth, it’s no joke. I confess to having a sit-down chat with her, cautioning her to not grow up too fast.

Last night I was awake most of the night. I thought about Breck and new growth. I thought about the cicadas, a surprising new form emerging from a discarded old body. I hoped against all hope that nature was talking to me, sending me a message. Be patient. All in good time. I’ve been sitting in the hallway for a very long time.

Perhaps, like Breck, I too am waiting for the optimal time, some intrinsic trigger and, suddenly and without warning or inhibition, I will reach to the sky. Perhaps, like the cicadas, in a moment of surprise, my new form will burst out of the old body, amazed at the sudden addition of wings.

In the meantime, I continue to do as I was taught: my job is to “put it out there”. The rest is out of my control [meantime: the intervening time. The hallway]. The operative word is “it”. It. I write and publish almost everyday. I paint and publish. We cartoon and publish. I toss resumes into the wind.

In the dark of night, thinking of aspen trees and cicadas, I ponder worthy questions. Breck needed assistance to move to new soil and then required recovery time. Storing energy for the right moment. The cicada lived underground until it felt an internal imperative to climb – an imperative that I imagine made no sense but had to be heeded just the right moment. For me, if nature is talking to me, it has me pondering what else – that I’ve not yet considered – might “it” be that I should “put out there”? Or better, does “it” matter at all? Perhaps all that I lack is the right moment. And there’s nothing to be done about that.

My Site. Up and Running. At Long Last.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BRECK

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Filed under: Art, Creativity, DR Thursday, Edges, Emergence, Metaphor | Tagged: analogy, artist, artistry, cicada, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, Emergence, growth, hope, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, metaphor, nature, nature symbols, new growth, painter, patience, story, studio melange, symbol, the melange, transition | 3 Comments »

Feel The Rumbling [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on April 26, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

“We have to stop and be humble enough to understand that there is something called mystery.” ~ Paulo Coehlo

Kerri sprinted through the kitchen. “Dogga has a baby bunny in his mouth!” I reached the window the moment she said, “Dogga, drop it!” He did. The bunny hopped away. Dogga beamed with satisfaction. A new friend. And who wouldn’t want to take a gentle ride in a dog’s mouth?

The Mayapples are reaching through the devastation. The new green is slowly overtaking the broken brown. We wondered if anything survived the eradication. How foolish we were to doubt the power of life. The force of nature. Already this spring the chorus of the frog’s-re-emergence has blown us away. “We only think we’re in control,” I thought as Kerri knelt to capture the wrinkly green splendor.

We sat in the back. It’s our preferred spot when we attend a performance. We can’t help it. We study. The singers, a chorus comprised of women and men who’ve been touched by breast cancer, Sing-To-Live, made me think of the Mayapple. Resilient. Powerful. Reaching through the fear and devastation. Life reaching for life. Their final song of the night brought tears to my eyes. Why We Sing.

This is why we – human beings – make art. Life reaching for life.

I shared a painting from the deep archives with Horatio. He wrote, “You were bursting at the seams, amigo…Have you thought to paint the current iteration and see what that looks like?” Bursting at the seams. I feel the rumbling.

I dream of the day Kerri returns to her piano. There’s so much more music! I feel the rumbling.

Butterflies bursting from cocoons. Hardy green shoots breaching seed pods. Mayapples push through the crusty soil called by the warmth of sun. Bunnies emerge from their leafy nest. Courageous people singing to live. It’s everywhere. Feel the rumbling.

read Kerri’s blogpost about MAYAPPLES

buymeacoffee.com in case you’d like to support our too-many-words and music and painting.

Filed under: Art, Creativity, Flawed Wednesday, Metaphor | Tagged: artistry, cocoon, courage, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, hope, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, May Apple, music, new growth, potential, rejuvenation, renewal, revivify, seed pods, seeds, Sing to Live, spring, story, studio melange, the melange, Why We Sing | 1 Comment »

See The Awesome [on KS Friday]

Posted on April 7, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Our favorite Wander Women posted the next installment of their through-hike on the Arizona trail. They are 300 miles in and passed through a burn zone that impacted a Saguaro cactus forest. Some of the giant cactus had perished. Many were burned yet somehow, survived. New growth pushed through the top of the blackened resilient plants. I was awestruck.

A decade or so ago, when life was hard, when I least believed in human kindness, I set out each day on my walk across the city determined to count acts of generosity. The acts of benevolence were everywhere and by far outnumbered the aggressive honkers and the impatience of frustrated commuters. By the time I reached my studio I wondered how there could be so much kindness, so much benevolence in the world, unseen. I wondered why our shared story was of a scary-angry-world rather than a world of munificence. The evidence did not support the narrative.

Looking for kindness in others inspired acts of kindness in me. Sometimes, after I witnessed a generosity, I approached the person who gave of themselves and acknowledged their act. I essentially said, ‘I saw that and it was awesome.” You may or may not be surprised to learn how impactful a simple acknowledgement can be. People smiled and blushed. People waved it off as if it was nothing.

Kindness is everything.

My walks across the city were more than a decade ago. The shared narrative of scary-angry-world is louder now than ever yet I wonder if I took a walk across my city-of-yore would I see a different result or the same? Kindness flies mostly under the radar, people wave it off as small gestures; it doesn’t pull high ratings like bullying or blood or scandal. We live within the narrative we feed.

I suspect kindness is as pervasive as fear-mongering but kindness doesn’t care if it gets the headline.

A sentinel stands on our trail. A tall stump, long ago burned by fire, perhaps a lightning strike. Perhaps its blackened scars are from a controlled burn. It reminds me of Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree. The birds use it for perching. The squirrels burrow at its base. Life teems around and because of the blackened stump. It always captures our attention. I imagine it is kind since so many creatures and living things find support in its watchful presence. New growth will never push through the top of this stump. It is no longer self-generating. It is, however, like a standing nurse log, new life teems around, on top of, and through it. A silent giver. I am always tempted to step off the path and whisper, “I saw that and it was awesome.”

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE STUMP

Filed under: KS Friday, Metaphor, Seeing | Tagged: artistry, benevolence, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, generosity, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, kind, kindness, munificence, narrative, new growth, nurse log, presence, right now, Right Now by kerri sherwood, shared story, Shel Silverstein, story, studio melange, The giving tree, the melange, transience | 1 Comment »

Love The Wreckage [on DR Thursday]

Posted on April 7, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

It sounded like a thousand bees hitting the glass, trying to break the pane to get inside the house. Hail. Little pellets driven by the wind, appearing from nowhere. The last time I’d looked out the window it was sunny. And then, the rain. I stood at the window and watched the water find its path of least resistance from sky to glass pane to ground.

I was grateful for the bees hitting the window. The hail called me from the other world and back into this reality. When I work I tend to be too focused. I’ve always been that way. If I’m painting or – these days – assembling Powerpoint slides to map an idea or make a point – I am no longer available in this world. In my past life, you could come into my office or studio and sing an aria and I’d miss it. My focus was like a fortress.

Years ago when I lived in L.A., my friend Albert would “drop by” my studio every afternoon and make me join him for a cup of coffee. He was the best of friends. He knew I would not – or could not – come out of my other world without some prompting. He was like the bees hitting the window. Intentional hail. He’d sit with me, sipping coffee until I once again became verbal, until I wandered out of the fortress. I think he saved me. It’s too easy to get lost in a fortress.

Yesterday Kerri and I had a “talk.” I confessed that moving to Kenosha was like being a brakeless semi-truck hitting the sands of a runaway truck ramp. Full stop. Pieces of me flew everywhere. All momentum stopped. Wreckage and a broken nose. And, there, the lessons began.

I fought hard to keep the fortress intact but there were too many pieces scattered across the gardens. Light was pouring in. Focus became less about blocking out disturbance – disappearing – and more about attending. Giving attention. There’s a balance and for me it is a high wire act everyday. Learn to walk the wire of presence rather than disappear into a myopic fortress.

Pieces scattered akimbo do not reassemble but they do provide nutrients to the soil for new growth. Spring is calling. New shoots of green are poking from the crusty ground. The hail calls me from my creation. The fortress was a dark place. I much prefer the ruins and the budding gardens fed by the driving rain.

read Kerri’s blog post about RAIN

in dreams i wrestle with angels, 24x48IN, mixed media 2017

Filed under: Art, Awakening, Creativity, DR Thursday, Edges | Tagged: artistry, awareness, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, focus, fortress, friendship, gardens, Gratitude, hail, hail rain, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, lessons, new growth, rain, ruins, springtime, story, studio melange, the melange | Leave a comment »

Take The Time [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on March 30, 2021 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Nobody sees a flower – really – it is so small it takes time – we haven’t time – and to see takes time, like to have a friend takes time.” ~ Georgia O’Keeffe

To see takes time.

Desi has been teaching us to see. She sits on the table in a clay pot. We join her at the table every evening to sip a glass of wine, watch the light wane, the robins and cardinals dart across the yard, debrief the day. We’ve been watching Desi all winter, spending time with her. Watching.

Truth be told, I did not expect Desi to live long in her pot. She’s seemingly so fragile, her “trunk” no wider than a sewing needle. And yet, throughout the winter, her robust green needles never yellowed. She thrived, verdant in her unlikely home.

Kerri talks to Desi more than I do. I’m the silent male but I regularly send her my good thoughts. She regularly reciprocates. Kerri and Desi can carry on for quite awhile about nothing in particular. Soil. Water. Warm days. Pine-tree-talk. Hope.

Hope. A few weeks ago, Desi stood taller. New tender sprouts pressed from nowhere , tiny arms reaching for the sun. We celebrated Desi’s new heights. We encourage her to keep going – and she does! Now, each evening, first thing when we sit at the table, we spend time ‘seeing’ Desi.

In a hard pandemic time she lightens our spirits. She cares nothing for the news cycle or the ridiculous foibles of bipeds and we find that refreshing. Most of all, if, for a moment, we forget that we are surrounded by hope – it’s everywhere – we take a moment or two and have a sit-down-visit with Desi. We take the time to see what is always right in front of our eyes.

read Kerri’s blog post about DESI