Maple Dreams [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on March 27, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

Tiny helicopters capable of catching the wind and carrying the seeds of a maple, each a pod of wild-tree-possibility.

They require something more than luck to let-go and launch into space. With no control over the direction or force of the breezes, once aloft, they twirl to their seemingly random destiny. Some will find fertile soil and ample light. Most will not. The strategy of the mother tree is nothing more or less than to freely scatter potential, to litter the area with maple-dreams. The evolution of hope.

Some pods never launch just as some ideas never take hold. No matter. Creativity in all its permutations is an infinite game. The idea that lands in just the right spot at just the right moment may, in time, grow into a mighty tree. It may not. The perfection is in the process of plenty, not in the illusion of a single flawless ideal. “Throw many pots.”

On her piano is a notebook of songs and compositions. Hieroglyphs to me but she need only open her burgeoning notebook, decipher the magic writing, and play a song or composition capable of making me weep. Or smile. Or feel something so deeply that I lack words to express it. Her compositions are pods waiting to launch. Pages of plenty, ideas-in-sound, waiting for the force of the unpredictable wind to carry them…somewhere.

She is like the might-maple-mom. Freely scattering potential, littering our lives and those around us with ideas in word and music and paint. She’s so abundant – her idea-pods so ever-present – that we take them for granted. Each carrying the pip of a mighty potential, the germ of a forest of possibility. They are everywhere.

Some have found her intimidating and tried to constrain her promise, to lasso her imagination. Too bad.

Today she completes another spin around the sun. I can already see the next generation of magic seed pods forming. I can’t wait to see what wonder-of-her-spirit will take root and reach for the sky.

[happy birthday]

read Kerri’s blogpost about PODS

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Honor The Error [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on December 27, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Art is human. Error is human. Art is error.” ~ David Bayles & Ted Orland, Art & Fear

I adore all three parts of this syllogism. Just don’t ask me if the reasoning is inductive or deductive since the three characters in the play are suspiciously unreasonable: Art, Humans, and Error. Applying reason to the unreasonable seems dubious for the get-go. In a world of rationalizing the irrational, who cares if the path is general to specific or vice-versa?

We made Christmas dinner at Craig’s house last night. Since he is nose-to-the-grindstone trying to make a career from his music, we talked about what he is experiencing. What he is learning. “It’s hard,” he said. Kerri smiled, knowingly. Yes. The music industry is Hard. Art-making is a joy. Making a viable career of art-making is akin to pushing a rock up a steep hill and never reaching the top. Sisyphus. No joy. Despite common stereotypes, no one works harder than artists-with-a-passion. “Talent and hard work is no guarantee that you’ll make it,” he said, sharing a recent revelation.

Trial and error. I’m currently writing a play and each day I remind myself of John Guare’s famous observation: you have to write ten bad pages to arrive at one good page. In other words, error making is the path. Any master craftsperson can tell you that. Make enough errors and you’ll eventually develop a wee-bit-of-discernment. What works. What does not. Discernment does not stop the error-making, it embraces it. It uses it.

I asked Craig if his definition of “good” had changed in the many months that he’s been producing and performing music. What is good work now relative to good work last year? His answer tickled me. His observation is ubiquitous to all creative pursuits. What seemed good last year often looks like doggerel this year. “I can’t believe I released that track,” he said. It’s a very good sign. He’s stacking his errors. He’s developing discernment. That, too, is a life-long pursuit, a steep climb with no top. Van Gogh looked back at his early work and wrinkled his nose.

So hope-full. The courage to follow an inner imperative. Honoring an undeniable impulse makes no sense. Intuition-listening. Eschewing illusions like “perfection” for a more gritty heart-filled error-strewn path. A more realistic human path, riddled with blunders and happy accidents. Now, isn’t that a lovely paradox! So honest. So art-full.

Kerri asked, “What does this post have to do with the pink ornament?” My answer: “These are the very pink thoughts I hang every day on my thought-tree.”;-)

read Kerri’s blogpost about PINK ORNAMENT

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buymeacoffee is an error filled path that leads to appreciation of the very flawed artists you appreciate.

Filed under: Art, Creativity, Flawed Wednesday, Intuition, Language | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments »

Sail Toward It [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on July 26, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Gordon MacKenzie ends his wise little book with this: “You have a masterpiece inside of you, too, you know. One that is unlike any that has ever been created, or ever will be. And remember: If you go to your grave without painting your masterpiece, it will not get painted. No one else can paint it. Only you.”

His analogy – his encouragement – is to let go of others’ expectations and paint your painting, not the paint-by-number painting that you think is required of you.

I wrote this note to myself over ten years ago: you do yourself a terrible disservice to doubt what you know.

I know the world is round. If I set off on an adventure to the unknown I will never touch the horizon. It will always call to me. And, if I sail toward it long enough I will arrive back where I started. Home.

If I believed the world was flat, I would delude myself into thinking that I could catch the horizon – and touch it – merely a moment before I sailed over the edge and into the dark abyss. I know this: no one holding a flat world belief will knowingly sail toward the horizon, the great unknown. That would be crazy! No one willingly sails into the abyss. Better stay safe in the harbor! Color within the lines!

Masterpieces are made by sailing into unknown territory. Releasing control and discovering what’s just over the horizon. And, what’s just over the horizon is more horizon! More questions. More experiences. More discoveries. More tastes. More textures. More sounds. And, to sail toward the horizon with abandon first requires an understanding that the world is round. It is all horizon.

Paint-by-expectation is the road of a flat-earther. Perfection is a false horizon. Try to touch it and the abyss is yours.

Young artists jump back and forth between the flat and the round earth philosophy. They have to. Vulnerability is a learned skill and comes easily when the quest to touch the horizon is abandoned. In other words, painting a masterpiece comes when the quest for a masterpiece is ditched. When making a mess takes precedence over “doing it right.” When following your bliss determines the rules you uphold.

It’s counterintuitive. There’s a place where control and freedom blend into one. You’ll find it when you aim at the unattainable horizon.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE HORIZON

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Move The Eye [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on January 3, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

“If you think good work is somehow synonymous with perfect work, you are headed for big trouble. Art is human; error is human; ergo, art is error.” ~ Art & Fear, David Bayles & Ted Orland

The winterberries came as a shock. Vibrant red pops in a bleak landscape of brown and grey. “They look like maraschino cherries!” Kerri laughed as she waded into the brush to get a photograph. In Wisconsin, the mere mention of maraschino cherries invokes immediate and widespread mixing of brandy old-fashioneds. Even though it was early in the day, I imagine people for miles around sensed the invocation and sprang toward their liquor cabinets.

“Sour or sweet?’ I asked, trying to be clever, but she was too engrossed in her photograph to hear my quip.

Watching her crouch to capture the shot, I thought, “Red makes the eye move.” It’s a lesson I learned beyond the abstract and used in my narrative paintings – a series that I’ve had on the back burner for ages. Limit the palette, move the eye with winterberry red. It’s a director’s thought. Guide the eye. It’s a playwright’s plot; tell the story through the anomaly. Create movement through curiosity rather than control.

Explode the idea. Run toward the edge. Extol the sore thumb!

I let my eye roam across the fields. Winterberry shock to Winterberry shock, electric reds pulling my eye across muted purple and drab green. The wind rattling branches, antlers clacking in the sky. I breathed it all in as she waded through the grasses back to the path. “Make big mistakes,” I heard Quinn whisper.

“The bigger the better,” I whispered in reply.

read Kerri’s blogpost about WINTERBERRIES

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Admit It [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on April 1, 2020 by davidrobinsoncreative

snow in evergreen copy

When we first met, a snowfall – especially at night – served as an immediate call to strap on our shoes, pull on our parkas, and walk into the quiet of the new snow. Somewhere in the passage of time, we ceased heeding the call and, instead, opted for warm blankets, wine and a gaze out the window. “Look at how huge those flakes are!” we exclaim and sip.

So it was a surprise that with last weeks sudden spring snow, we both felt that old giddy schoolchild’s enthusiasm and threw on our coats (pulled mittens over splinted wrists) and crunched into the evening flurry.

The sun was setting so the neighborhood was awash in purple and blue. The wind through the trees served to hush an already muted world. We came upon an evergreen tree that made us gasp. We pulled off her mittens so she could take a picture.

It is in moments like these that I remember all that I know about perfection, all that I forget the second I re-remember all that I know about perfection. Namely, it is not an achievement. It is not something to strive for. It is not distinct or otherworldly. It is here all the time. The challenge is in seeing it. The challenge is offering it admission into our otherwise busted and angst-ridden narratives.

A quiet evening. The crunch of our feet in new snow. A flurry of unique-in-all-the-world flakes falling into uniformity on the ground, resting in the needles of an evergreen. Kerri gasps, “Help me take off my mitten! I want a picture.” I step back, breathe in the cold clean air. The wind playing music through the trees. “Isn’t it gorgeous?” she asks moving in for a close-up.

‘Perfect.” I nod. Just perfect.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about SNOW IN EVERGREENS

 

prayerflagsinsnow website box copy

Filed under: Awakening, Flawed Wednesday, Gratitude, Seeing, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

Look In The Mirror [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on July 3, 2019 by davidrobinsoncreative

red cup mirror copy

A few years ago Morris Berman wrote a book, Coming To Our Senses, that jumps with both feet into the complexities of mirrors. Believe it or not, there are societies that are not singularly obsessed with self-image.

What do we see when we look in the mirror? What image do we think we ought to project? Create? Reinforce? What image do we think we ought to match? What do we think we need to hide? What about that hair or those crow’s feet? What do we look for in the image that stares back? Have we ever considered that the image in the mirror is the reverse of what’s actual? That we will, in fact, always see the opposite and never see ourselves as we are?

What amazing power do marketers possess when crafting the images that sell stuff? Models with perfect profiles, men with Greek bodies, all of those images filtered through the magic of Photoshop to heighten, hide, or somehow manufacture a more desirable perfection, an unattainable you. That is the point, after all: to create a perfection that no mere mortal can attain. To create a purchase path, a product possibility of attaining the ideal, even for a moment.

On the island, there is a terrific little coffee house, The Red Cup. Someone at The Red Cup must have read Morris Berman’s book or at least caught on to the power of a mirror. They know, even after a few cups of good coffee, when washing your hands in the restroom, you are likely to look in the mirror and find something that needs changing, something lacking. And so, as a counterbalance to the programming, they offer a simple alternative, a suggestion, in fact, a possibility for what you might choose to see in the mirror: you are so cool, and intelligent and strong and fierce.

read Kerri’s blog post about THE RED CUP

 

feet on the street WI website box copy

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Chase The Bubbles [on DR Thursday]

Posted on April 4, 2019 by davidrobinsoncreative

morsel bubble chasers copy

Some paintings don’t make it to the finish line and I suspect that this painting, Chasing Bubbles, will be one of those. I’ve been working on and off with it for weeks and that’s the problem. I’m not paying enough consistent attention to the painting to actually develop it into something good. Like an absent father I return to it every once in a while and wonder why the relationship isn’t progressing.

The playwright John Guare said that writers need to write ten bad pages to get one good page. Remove failure from the equation. Place the emphasis on the process and not on the product. Experiment. Play. Make strong offers.

The same principle is the reason why actors rehearse or artists do drawing exercises and rough drafts. A photographer for National Geographic (whose name escapes me) said that he shoots a thousand shots to get one really good photograph.

For an artist, silly notions like perfection interrupt the necessity of flow.

Kerri just thumped me. She looked over my shoulder and read what I was writing. “I like this painting!” she declared. She wants a stay of execution. She rapidly listed all of the reasons why I shouldn’t paint over it. “At least consider it,” she said, glaring at me.

I will consider it. After all, that is exactly what I have been doing. Considering whether or not to keep working it or start anew. Trying to find a way, given my spotty attention, to bring life to this Frankenstein. In either case, I am certain of one thing: this bad page will eventually lead to something good.

 

IMG_4067

Chasing Bubbles in process or perhaps in its last hours (thump).

read Kerri’s blog post about CHASING BUBBLES

 

drc website header copy

 

cropped head kiss website copy

chasing bubbles (for better or worse) ©️ 2019 david robinson

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

Chicken Marsala Monday

Posted on February 26, 2018 by davidrobinsoncreative

fallingdown WITH EYES jpeg THIS COPYIf blocking  your creative arteries is the goal then there is no better illusion to consume than trying to be perfect. Eating the idea that you can be free of flaws or experience mastery without mistakes is guaranteed to clog your capacity to move. Notions of perfection turn the imagination toward the fear-monsters and breeds an especially severe  inner critic. Perfection is like the Medusa, give her your gaze and she’ll turn you to stone.

Imagination, creativity, learning, growing,…are words of movement. They are experiences of free flow. If investments like perfection crimp flow, then granting simple graces like trial and error, or “seeing what happens” will inevitably open the channel. Creative flow, like profound learning or wild imagination happens when inner-judges retire; it happens when nature is allowed to take its course. Nature is movement. Falling down is a necessary form of movement. Perfection is about appearances. Learning is about process.

From studio melange on this Chicken Marsala Monday comes this simple reminder. Try. Remove failure from the gallery of options. Get on the bike and ride. Expect to fall down. It’s the only way to learn how to stand up.

FALLING DOWN IS AN ESSENTIAL PART OF LEARNING merchandise

chicken falling down mug     chicken falling down pillow

kerrianddavid.com

check out Kerri’s thought’s on this Chicken Marsala Monday

falling down is an essential part of learning ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood

 

 

 

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Meditate On Mistakes

Posted on August 25, 2015 by davidrobinsoncreative

taking advantage of my mistakes: a detail of my latest painting in progress called Weeping Man

taking advantage of my mistakes: a detail of my latest painting in progress called Weeping Man

A meditation on mistakes:

Actors know. In performance, when they forget their line, they come alive. The exhilaration of forgetting shocks them into presence. The mistake achieves the essential thing: presence. The audience may not be aware of the lost line but they cannot help but come into presence when the actor does. That’s how it works. Presence begets presence. Actors also know that, in such a moment, tension is their enemy. Panic is counterproductive. Relaxation is the only path back to their play.

Mistakes wake us up.

Many years ago, I produced a summer theatre company. In the middle of a performance, a storm blew out the power to the theatre. The performance stopped. The emergency lights came on. The actors looked at the audience and the audience looked at the actors. And then, in the ghostly blue-white light, the actors continued their play. It was the one and only time that the play was riveting. Actors and audience alike became invested. They were together in an experience that was unique. It was, as are all true mistakes, unrepeatable.

the under painting and sketch.

the under painting and sketch.

The playwright John Guare wrote that a writer must write ten bad pages to arrive at the one good page. The writer must value the ten bad pages for the single good page to be possible. The ten bad pages, what educators, locked into testing regimens, might call mistakes, are necessary. Up front expectations of perfection are guarantees of mediocrity. No process is perfect – and that’s the point. Perfection, like happiness, comes after the fact. It is the blossom of a rich process. It ensues and only becomes available when mistakes are valued, when exploration is encouraged. A rich process is alive with trial and error, with strong offers that may or may not work. The strength of the offer, the capacity to make a grand mistake, learn, adjust and boldly offer again – is a great definition of freedom. It is otherwise known as vitality.

It’s what artists understand. When nothing seems to be working, when the most powerful offers fall flat, when paintings turn to mud, relaxation is the only path forward. There is comfort in knowing that the single good page is out there somewhere if only you keep making grand, luscious, brilliant mistakes.

Filed under: Art, Creativity, Edges, Education, Truly Powerful People | Tagged: , , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

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