Choose A Double [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on April 3, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

The storm that blew through last night was ominous. The thunder shook the house. I lay awake, marveling at the force of nature. And, while I lay awake, counting the seconds between flash and boom, I also counted myself lucky. I rolled gratitudes through my mind, enumerating all the things I was thankful for in the previous 24 hours. There were more than I could count.

It is very easy to get lost in despair. It’s very easy to count all the things that don’t work, go wrong, hurt a lot, and didn’t-go-my-way. It takes a bit more intention and effort to turn the eye toward the good stuff. Counting gratitudes requires aiming focus.

It reminds me of an exercise I used to do with groups, revealing to them how easy and fun it is to blame-the-universe or other people for our woes. Blame is like sugar. It’s addictive. The groups would tell outrageous blame stories and laugh. Blame lightens the load. It’s an easy answer to the mysterious question, “Why?”

It’s much harder to see and embrace participation and choice in a life path. Ownership comes with responsibility. There is circumstance – that which I can’t control. There is what I do within my circumstance – that which I can control. The moment I suggested to the groups that they transform their blame-story into a story-of-choice, they fell silent. Every group. Every time.

Blame requires allies and layers of story; it happened to me. Choice needs no audience. It is the story. I made this happen.

On any other night, between flash and boom, I might have tossed and turned and counted my woes. I am more than capable of diving into dark holes and indulging my blame story. I have and will again drown my sorrows in pity and it’s-not-my-fault denial. But, on this night, during this storm, I was filled with awe for the power of nature, for the abundant good that boomed through my life, for the chance to live another abundant day. A double double of appreciation.

read Kerri’s blog post about A DOUBLE

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Unroll And Tune In [on KS Friday]

Posted on March 31, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

I did a stupid thing. A few years ago I rolled several of my canvases and stacked the many heavy rolls. Stacking them was my crime. The weight crushed the bottom rolls, potentially leaving ripples in the paintings. I know better. I’m unrolling each, one roll at a time, weighting the flat canvas so any potential wave is pressed. So far there is no damage.

I have opened three rolls. I have three more rolls to go. The opened rolls remain flat on the ground with the next roll layered on top. A new type of stack. Sedimentary paintings. Each layer provides weight to help flatten the previous roll. It’s slow going. I am being careful. I am treating the canvas – my paintings – with the respect that I should have afforded them long ago.

We took a walk on the road when we were up north. It was snowing and the world became snow-quiet. As without, so within. I became snow-quiet. The gang walked ahead as Kerri took a photo of the silent woods. I turned my face to the snow and felt the sting of each flake. Sometimes, when deep in the snow-quiet, the life-canvas is blank and affords the opportunity to discover the world anew; snow on my face for the first time. This earth is heartbreakingly beautiful.

Unrolling each roll of paintings is like turning my face to the falling snow. It makes me quiet. I am seeing paintings – my paintings – that I have not seen for a few years. I am afforded the opportunity to discover my world anew. I’m finding, as I carefully weight them, hoping the ripples are not permanent, that I have new eyes and new appreciation for my life and work. Unrolling the rolls, caring for the pieces, evokes peace in me.

I painted each of these paintings for the same reason. Standing before my easel quiets my mind and tunes me into something bigger than my tiny frets and future worries. It connects me – and that is whole point of the arts. It connects us. Unites us.

With each roll revealed, just as with each new painting, I become clear, if only for a moment. Like a walk through the woods on a snowy day.

[Peace is one of my favorites of Kerri’s compositions]

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about SNOWY WOODS

peace/as it is © 2004 kerri sherwood

Filed under: Art, Creativity, Gratitude, KS Friday, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Release The Seeds [on KS Friday]

Posted on March 24, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Creative people are driven to periodic symbolic self-annihilation and rebirth, much like the mythic phoenix.” ~ Alex Grey, The Mission of Art

I loaded my truck with my paintings. I drove to the beach where there were large fire-pits. I burned the paintings, bonfire style. I had so many paintings that it took three days, three truckloads, three successive nights. People helped, strangers who held vigil for me. Only one tried to talk me out of it.

Those nights on the beach were over 20 years ago. All along I’ve understood the conflagration. What I only now understand is the necessity of fire to release the seeds. Not just one seed, but hundreds. Thousands. And not all the seeds found rich soil. Only a few. And, once rooted, most of the seedlings were trampled, overshadowed or eaten. They never made it to the sun.

But the one seed, the single seed, released in fire, without will, intention or knowledge; the fortunate seed, flung into the air by heat and flame, caught the wind at just the right moment and fell to the earth haphazardly in an opportune spot. It took root. It drank in the sun. It survived the hungry deer nibbling close-by. And over decades, through harsh winter and sunny drought, it slowly, ever-so-slowly, grew.

A thousand seeds. One strong tree. New cones, loaded with millions of seeds. Ideas ripe for the wind.

A cycle that cannot be rushed. Each loop, lovingly and faith-full, takes time.

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about SEEDS

part of the wind/blueprint for my soul © 1997 kerri sherwood

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Ask The Bird [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on March 13, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

“I think we consider too much the good luck of the early bird and not enough the bad luck of the early worm.” FDR

I laughed aloud when I read this quote. Luck certainly comes from a point of view. The good luck of the early bird is not great for the worm. I’ll add that tasty tidbit to my book of low-bar-wisdom: It’s never good news when you are on the breakfast menu.

Luck, good or bad, is never an incident isolated in time. That’s the point of the famous Chinese fable. Is it good luck or bad? Who knows. It’s all dominoes. I met Kerri because my career (and life) was collapsing. Was my career collapse good luck or bad? Ask Kerri if meeting me was good luck or bad and her answer will probably waver given the events of the day.

These past few months, after the software start-up went away and we tumbled into our latest reinvention, I’ve been pondering the Chinese fable more than usual. It felt like great luck when the opportunity appeared. If feels like bad luck in its disappearance. Both/And. I was certainly prepared when the opportunity came along. No amount of preparation-meeting-opportunity kept the company from vanishing. Bird or worm? We’ll see.

I love the notion that luck, the good side, is out there, looking for us. I imagine Luck standing on the horizon each day, shielding her eyes and whispering, “Where are they?” With us standing on our horizon looking for Luck and Luck standing on her horizon looking for us, it’s only a matter of time before we spot each other.

And, maybe we already have. That’s the tricky thing I’ve learned about Luck. She sometimes comes in disguises. That wily Luck is a trickster and has a wicked sense of humor.

This is all I know: if I was writing the children’s-book-for-adults-about-luck, the worm would have just crawled out of a tequila bottle and the newly intoxicated early bird would be left with an important question: was that worm good luck or bad?

read Kerri’s blogpost about LUCK

Filed under: Merely A Thought Monday, Metaphor, Random | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

Drop In [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on February 13, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

It happened again. Last night, sitting at the table with Dan and Charlie, sipping wine and talking about fatherhood and life lessons, I dropped into a hyper-focus. I was completely present and utterly cherished these two men. The moment was so full that I ached, a tree splitting its bark unable to contain the enormity. Trying to hide my tears tossed me back into the blur.

Presence is vulnerable!

As I write this I am aware that language is incapable of capturing the experience. Cherish. Dropped into.

It happened again deep in the night. Kerri and I pretzeled under the warm quilts, the window open to the cold night air, a gentle rain, Dogga asleep on my feet. It’s as if the past and future part like the Red Sea and there is nothing pulling me away from this moment, this breath. Any story or fear or regret or justification or…dissipates. Life comes into crisp focus. There are no edges to the savoring. No end to the vastness of love.

“Remember this,” I tell myself, and the act of trying to capture it, separates me again. The future/past rush over me and time’s return tumbles me back into the mind-flood.

Trying “to do” something with “it,” confuses “it.”

During our call I told Rebecca of Saul-the-Tai-Chi-Master’s wise instruction: stay on the root and let the energy move you. It’s been over a decade since I studied with Saul. At the time, his words seemed aspirational, an abstraction. An achievement to strive for. “The field of opportunity.” “Focus beyond the opponent and the opponent drops away.”

In stopping the chase, I’m only now beginning to understand.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BEING ALIVE

Face The Rain, 24x24IN, mixed media on panel

Filed under: Gratitude, Love, Merely A Thought Monday, Seeing | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments »

Ask A Better Question [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on January 9, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

I just erased the post I’d written for today. We often write a few days ahead so we have time to reflect on or edit what we’ve written. We’ve learned that it’s a good practice to consider what you are about to spill into the world.

It’s a good practice because it affords us the opportunity to ask, “Is this what I mean to say? Is this what I really want to say?” The post that I’d initially written was bothering me. A lot. Sipping coffee, I confessed my discomfort to my chief editor and life-collaborator (Kerri) and we followed the trail until we found the source of my chagrin.

There is a question, a much more important question, behind and beyond clarifying what I really want to say. It is this: “Is this who I want to be?” My post was making me uncomfortable because it was the opposite of what I profess to be. It was the opposite of who I understand myself to be. Of who I want to be.

I’ve often written and taught about “the spaces between.” Relationship. Intuition. Heart. Facts and data require interpretation and live on the spectrum at the farthest point away from wisdom. Focus on the spaces between, the movement rather than the noun, and an entirely different life opens. Wisdom is more like water than stone.

Most cliches touch a truth-root and today that is the case for me: We teach what we most need to learn. Thank goodness my editor was around to gently slap open my eyes and help me ask myself a better question.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE SPACES

Filed under: Awakening, Identity, Merely A Thought Monday, Navel Gazing | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

Sail At It [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on January 2, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Kerri said it best: I can’t believe we are back in this place again.

I’ve been rolling this quote through my mind each day as I enter the job-hunt. I remember Tom telling me that he’d crossed a magic line and the world perceived him as “old.” He desperately wanted to direct more plays but his vast experience wore grey hair and a chiseled face. Even former students turned the other way when he called. Eventually he stopped believing the opportunity was out there. He made his peace with retirement on the ranch. He settled into a quiet life and a quiet life settled into him.

As I stare at job listings I dream of wealthy patrons knocking at my door or a fast-track Patreon membership that floats my/our artistic boat into new and exciting explorations. There are paintings in the stacks that are gorgeous and worthy. I fantasize that a syndicate will want Smack-dab or a publisher will ride over the horizon with a book deal. I know that Kerri has more music to play and record. I am not imagining that.

Tom’s reflection is poignant because he felt he was, after a lifetime of experience, coming into his most potent artistic years. I feel that now. I am now the age he was when he uttered his disbelief at crossing the magic line. It’s taken a long time to recognize the worth of my doubt, the power in my perseverance stepping into the unknown. There’s potent artistry in here. As the Wander Women said best, “We might have 20 summers left and want to be intentional in how we spend them.” Yes. How to best dedicate and experience the time? This day?

I believe the opportunity is out there. I wear a grey beard and, as my niece said, a weathered face. But, beneath the wear-and-tear, my heart is young and my tank is full. I am foolish enough or naive enough to imagine. To dream. To point my intention toward the edge of the earth. To believe opportunity is serendipitous as well as something created.

read Kerri’s blogpost about OPPORTUNITY

Filed under: Art, Business, Creativity, DR Thursday, Possibility | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

Give The Gift [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on December 28, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Every child is an artist. The problem is how to remain an artist once he grows up.” ~ Pablo Picasso

As guiding principles go, this one, for me, is top of the heap: deep down, everyone wants to play. Behind every stony face and wrinkled brow is a titanic impulse to play. It’s as true in boardrooms (or bored rooms) as it is in artist’s studios.

Sometimes it takes effort to peel off the layers of acquired seriousness. Sometimes it takes a deep sea dive to locate the original impulse and bring it to the surface for air. No matter the case, with a proper opportunity, play will find a way. Air will fill the lungs and hoots will follow.

If I had a magic wand I would ding the world-of-humans on the noggin’ and reveal their original impulse. Drop the armor, take off the mask and feel the sunshine. Kick off the loafers and feel the grass beneath your feet. Slide across the floor in your socks. Ties are better used as headwear or for slinging snowballs.

Wind up the reindeer and listen to the laughter in the race to the edge of the table. The inner child is one wind-up reindeer away. The inner artist needs finger paint or frosting for a cookie. The opportunity for play is the best gift of this or any season.

read Kerri’s blogpost about REINDEER

Filed under: Art, Creativity, Flawed Wednesday, Play | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

Two Sons and Two Fathers [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on December 5, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

The original contractor arrived with heavy machinery and an army of men. It was November. Our waterline broke and water was bubbling up in our front lawn. He was the only contractor available and willing to do the job so late in the year. By the time he was finished, he’d busted out portions of the city sidewalk, trenched a 5-foot-deep moat from the street to our foundation, broke out a piece of our front walk, and drilled a sizable hole in our foundation. It was the equivalent of performing open heart surgery for a toothache. Look up “overkill” in the dictionary and you’ll find a picture of this man.

The wreckage that he left behind was prodigious, though he was obligated to return in the spring to fix or replace what he’d broken.

To say we had to fight is an understatement. The city forced him to replace the sidewalk. The burial mound that was our front yard, after weeks of wrangling, was finally leveled and the grass reseeded. He promised to return to complete the final bit of repair work, the last of the pieces: a single square of our front walkway. We knew we’d never see him again.

This story has an extraordinary ending. A series of companies were contacted. None wanted to do the job. It was too small. It was too complicated: the original walkway was scribed with lines and no one knew how to match it.

And then, one day, I looked out the window and saw Frank, hands on his hips, standing on our driveway, staring at our sidewalk. “I remember this job,” he said when I came out to greet him. “I was a kid. I was with my dad when he poured this.” He scrutinized the house. “I’m certain of it.” He smiled, adding, “I think I still have the tool he used to make those lines.”

We talked for several minutes. My dad worked in concrete so we swapped dad stories. He was excited to restore the walk that his father installed. Scribing the lines would not only be easy, but a way to connect his work with his father’s. His connection to his father provided a mainline connection to my father. I was suddenly extremely grateful for the disappearance of the original contractor. Into the void he created walked a heart-legacy, a special opportunity.

Now, the final steps you take approaching our house, will be the place two sons met with their lost fathers, a stone of remembrance and pride. What could possibly be a better welcome to our home.

read Kerri’s blogpost about CEMENT

Filed under: Family, Gratitude, Love, Merely A Thought Monday | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Renew [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on October 5, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

I’m not sure why it hit me with such force. It’s a simple thing. It happens every day. A business fails. This business has been, for years, the place where I catalogued my paintings. Artmoi.com. It is the platform I use to publish my art website. The email notification suggested we export our work. It came with suggestions for other cataloguing options and sites. Generous in their exit. Responsible to their customers. It’s why I signed on in the first place.

I felt it as the end of an era. I wondered if it was the end. It would be a good time to pull it down. Let it go.

For a few years I’ve been writing about my struggles as a visual artist. The time of pandemic has also been the epic of water in our basement, my studio. The subsequent shuffling and reshuffling of boxes and crates and books and clothes and furniture has left my studio filled with our life-stuff. No where to stand. My easel sits above the high water mark.

The disruption came at a good time. I was becoming bored with my paintings. I was becoming disgruntled with the growing stack of paintings. Showing on the web has not proven very useful. I was primed for some productive disarray. And, when it came, it came with a vengeance. Pandemic. Broken wrists. Job loss. Economic free-fall. A curious series of water events; water falling from the ceiling, water rising from the floors, water line breaking through the walls. Water, water, everywhere. Full stop.

I sit on the stairs and look at the easel standing tall above the boxes and bags. There’s a canvas clamped in, ready. Waiting. It looks like an art installation entitled “Wreckage or Relegation?”

In the meantime, I’m drawing cartoons. We write every day. My work remains a thrilling creative challenge and requires full engagement of both sides of my brain. I’m lightly rehearsing for a performance in May. There’s no shortage of creative energy expenditure in our house.

On the trail yesterday, surrounded by flowers at the end of their season, I recognized that the end of Artmoi will become the beginning of renewal. An opportunity for a new site, a next-identity, is an opportunity for new eyes. A new approach. One that is much more appropriate to this chapter of my artist’s life, this season.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HIGHER GROUND

Filed under: Art, Creativity, Flawed Wednesday, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

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