Encounter The Plantimal [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on June 6, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Suddenly, stretching its neck beyond the leafy cover of the forest green, a Wild Giraffe Flower looms above us, scrutinizing. We stand very still. Though not dangerous, a Wild Giraffe Flower sighting is rare and their behavior is largely unknown. Our guidebook cautioned us not to run away but to stop all motion, take deep breaths to calm ourselves, and appreciate the moment. I whispered, “Remember. Be still. Breathe!” Wild Giraffe Flowers are skittish around humans. Kerri managed to get this single photograph. Any more movement and she feared the skittery plant critter would quickly disappear.

Traditionally, Wild Giraffe Flowers are thought to be one species: giraffa taraxacum officinale. We read that there are most certainly subspecies but scientists have had little opportunity to gather data so the question remains open. They are hard to track. Hard to find.

“Wasn’t that incredible,” Kerri said, showing me the photo of the Giraffe Flower. “I can’t believe I caught it!” We were still breathless from our encounter with such a rare plantimal.

“I can’t believe it stayed with us for so long.” I replied. “We’re sooo lucky!”

“True,” she sighed. “It’s a good thing I caught the photograph. No one would believe us otherwise.”

“Yes, I’m sure they’d think we’re just making this stuff up. Like it was only a dandelion or something.”

read Kerri’s blogpost on WILD GIRAFFE FLOWERS

like it. share it. tip it. talk back to it. “It” is us – our work – so we appreciate any or all of the responses.

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Attend [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on March 1, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

She thinks I’m kidding. If we someday walk the 2,650 mile Pacific Crest Trail I will require an emotional support donkey. This is no joke! She does not do well when she’s hungry and I’m not sure I can heft the amount of snacks necessary to keep her from daily H-anger. Hiker hunger is a real thing and without an emotional support donkey to carry sufficient snacks I’d walk all 2,650 miles with low-grade anxiety.

For our seventh anniversary she gave me a plant, a heart-shaped-leaf Philodendron. It was meant to keep me company in my office. I was spending most of my life alone upstairs noodling away at software-start-up conundrums. She thought I might need an ally. We cleverly named the Philodendron “Seven”. I’m not ashamed to admit that my life improved dramatically when Seven greeted me each morning. I surprised myself the day I asked Seven a question and an answer popped into my brain. “Did you just answer me?’ I asked, squinting my eyes at those mischievous heart leaves. Here’s a good Zen koan for you: What is the sound of a heart-leaf Philodendron chuckling?

When the pandemic closed the world we transformed our sunroom into a plant sanctuary. A ponytail palm arrived. A snake plant. Succulents. Our sweet Desi, who dreams of someday being a pine tree. The finicky KC. We sat in the sunroom surrounded by our plants every day. They lifted our spirits. We tended them and they, in turn, tended us. Eventually the plants spilled out of the sunroom into the living room and now our sitting room and bedroom are plant-ed.

When we saw this little plant stake in a shop in Cedarburg, I laughed. We’d need a thousand of the little stakes. The tall grasses in the yard. Breck, the little-aspen-tree-that-could. Kerri’s tomatoes. The basil. I’d consider withholding a stake from the crabgrass but it gives me a mission-impossible that keeps me busy and self-important, so I suppose it’s also an emotional support plant in disguise.

I wonder if the birds might wear tiny bracelets? Emotional Support Bird. Between the green things and the feathers-that-fly – not to mention our bevy of two-legged friends – we’re pretty well emotionally supported. Well, everywhere but on the trail. Do not doubt I’m keeping my eyes peeled for that donkey.

read Kerri’s blogpost about EMOTIONAL SUPPORT

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

Extend The Peace [on KS Friday]

Posted on August 19, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

Most of my life I’ve been an apartment dweller. A studio liver. Since moving to Wisconsin, into a house, I’ve had a yard to tend. I’m not very good at it but I confess to enjoying the work. I like being outside. Pulling weeds has, I’m slightly worried to admit, become a meditation.

Since Dog-Dog is a gifted destroyer of backyards – digging holes, wearing multiple velodrome paths in the grass – tending the yard has mostly been reactive. My actions are determined by his actions. Let’s just say I don’t worry too much about winning the lawn Olympics. I doubt that I’d qualify.

In the past year, in addition to the inside of the house being wrecked by interior waterfalls and other surprises, outside our yard, front and back, has also been blown to smithereens. We are slowly digging out. We are slowly putting the pieces back together again. And, we’re doing it at a time that Dog-Dog is slowing down. These days he’d rather sit in the shade than cut a new velodrome.

So, we’re designing our space. We’re extending the peace we created in our sunroom into the yard. Last year, our peace spilled out onto the deck. Now, with the addition of the back fence, our peace is pressing the lot line.

I was surprised to learn that Kerri has hosta preferences. She’s not a fan of the variegated variety that lined our yard. Bert and Sue gave us those plants from their yard. We were trying to get something – anything – to grow. Sally gave us ferns and day lilies. We rolled those down third avenue in a wheelbarrow. Now, with everything in disarray, we have a blank canvas.

With tall grasses as the center of her design, she pulled me across the nursery to see “the right hosta.” There’s a certain shape of leaf. A certain color of green. “Look,” she said, pointing out the differences. “Don’t you love that?”

What I love is the specificity of her compositional eye. She tells me that the grasses will dance and pop against the white fence. The green – not any green – but the specific green of the hosta will sing next to the swaying grasses.

Hosta singing. Grasses dancing. Out of the ashes…design, and peace that reaches all the way to the fence.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE RIGHT GREEN

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

longing/as it is © 2004 kerri sherwood

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

Marvel The Resilience [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on May 3, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

The guys at the water utility told us not to bother replacing our yard until the fall. “The dirt needs to settle,” they said. After trenching from the street to the house, tearing up great chunks of the sidewalk and curb, blowing a hole in the foundation, throwing dirt into the moat and covering it with straw, ripping up the street and quickly tossing temporary asphalt over the hole, our front yard is a hot mess of destruction.

Our neighbor owns a landscape design business; he scowls every time he looks our way. It pains him that his pristine yard sits next to our ruin. “The dirt needs to settle,” I say and shrug as he looks in horror at his worst nightmare. To add insult to injury, I’ve threatened to park the truck on our ruin but Kerri gives me THAT look. If I want to stay above ground, the truck stays in the driveway.

Standing on the front porch, amazed at the hardy green shoots reaching up through the devastation, straw and lawn netting, I thought of Tom. He marveled at the resilience of young people, students in the schools that he stewarded. Some of the children lived in extreme circumstances or had suffered terrific injury, and yet, they consistently transcended their situation. Pushing through the wreckage and reaching for the sun. “The human spirit,” he’d say and shake his head in amazement. “Marvelous.”

Despite being trenched, torn, mixed with concrete and rock, thrown about, turned over and over again, covered with straw and netting, the Day Lilies have not only survived, they are thriving. Just as a fire brings renewal to the forest, it seems the destruction served to energize the plants. More than a comeback, this is a riot of Lily return. A reunion.

“The impulse to life,” I whispered to Tom. “Unbelievable.”

“Yep,” he smiled.

read Kerri’s blog post about RESILIENCE

Filed under: Metaphor, Perspective, Two Artists Tuesday, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

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