At The Edge [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

“I want to stand as close to the edge as I can without going over. Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can’t see from the center.” ~ Kurt Vonnegut

Standing at the edge of the lake, looking east, I know Michigan is out there somewhere. I’ve never seen it myself but I have it on good authority that if I paddled my kayak in a straight line I’d eventually bump into it. Standing at the edge I imagine the journey, and in my imagination, I survive storms and thirst and never-before-seen creatures. When I arrive in Michigan I tell the world what I have seen but the world does not believe me. No one has ever seen what I report to have seen – so I must be making it up. And, that’s always a possibility.

Standing at the edge of the lake it is also interesting to turn around, look west and gaze into the center of town. The community organizes itself, moving in synchronicity, but rarely recognizes it. Individuals move throughout their day, pushed this way and that by forces they cannot perceive or control, riding the currents believing that they are somehow separate and independent from the movement of the whole. Each and every moment they shape and are shaped, but believe themselves isolated and alone. Within them are never-before-seen dreams and desires. They do not dare to reveal them fearing they will engender cynicism. Dreams are tender things so they mute their imagining; blunting dreams is always a possibility.

I once taught that judgment is an alarm that sounds at the edge, an alert that the next step will be into the unknown. It is meant to make you aware of the awaiting kayak. It is the call to open your eyes to what-you-cannot-yet-see. It is there to alert you that the person standing before you is an undiscovered universe, different-than-you. They are unknown and vast. It is possible to run from the unknown. It is possible to step toward it.

Standing at the edge, the alarm sounding, debating whether to step or run away, only one thing is certain: this “other” IS one of the forces that moves you, shapes you, and might help you see what you cannot see from your safe center: that the isolation you experience is mostly self-imposed.

Also, to them, you are the scary unknown, the marker of difference, the vast unknown universe capable of changing them.

Sometimes standing at the edge, it is the best to stand still. To recognize the magnitude of all that you do not know. To weigh the enormous possibilities that await if you simply find the courage to take a step, to extend your hand, to say, “Hello.”

Pilgrimage, 14″x18″, mixed media on panel

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE LAKE

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Furtherance [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

“Perseverance is the foundation of all actions.” ~ Lao Tzu

Breck-the-aspen-tree is our backyard living monument to perseverance. She survived and now thrives despite a multitude of obstacles, least of which was…us.

We plucked Breck from a grocery story in Breckenridge, Colorado. She was an impulse buy and came in a little pot that barely fit in the back of our car. Breck’s branches had to bend a bit to make the journey. She survived the roadtrip home and struggled mightily after being replanted into an enormous clay pot. She lived on our deck for the first three years. We talked to her throughout the summer. We wrapped her pot with blankets to keep her roots from freezing during the winter months.

Each spring we watched for signs that she survived and each year she rewarded us with fragile buds and minimal growth. We knew we needed to plant her in a permanent spot and our first choice nearly killed her. Within weeks she dropped all of her leaves and turned a sad shade of grey. In desperation we dug her up and moved her into another more sunny spot and waited. With no signs of life for the rest of the summer season and throughout the fall, we were certain that we’d killed her. But, she persevered.

The next season she recovered, produced a host of oddly outsized leaves, and grew a foot. The next year she grew another foot and leafed like a normal aspen tree. The year after that she boomed.

Breck is now taller than the garage. She’s no longer a backseat traveler. Instead, she is hostess to the birds who frequent our yard. We stand at her base looking up and marvel at the new growth. She is nearly a foot taller today than she was a month ago. She is a masterful quaker, playing the breezes, and has no problem bending with the wind.

We regularly stare at her and utter, “I can’t believe it. Look at her.”

Here is the full quote by Lao Tzu: “Of all that is good, sublimity is supreme. Succeeding is the coming together of all that is beautiful. Furtherance is the agreement of all that is just. Perseverance is the foundation of all actions.”

I looked up the word “furtherance”. Lao Tzu uses it often. It seems central to his philosophy and I was taken by his definition, “Furtherance is the agreement of all that is just”. Furtherance: the act of helping something advance, develop, or succeed. Now, isn’t that a timely and profound sentiment? Helping something (or someone) advance, develop or succeed is a coming together (an agreement) of all that is fair, deserved, morally right (just).

Wouldn’t it be profound if we could look at each other and say of ourselves, our community and nation, that we have succeeded by bringing together all that is beautiful, that we persevered through a dark and ugly time, arriving at last at a dedicated furtherance, helping each other develop, advance and succeed?

Do you see the loop? Succeeding is the coming together of all that is beautiful. Furtherance is the act of helping each other and our planet succeed (the coming together of all that is beautiful). Perseverance leads to the sublime. Breck is our constant reminder of all that is possible if we just keep trying.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BRECK

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If We So Choose [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

We had a debate about the painting on my easel that was so passionate, so intense, that Dogga thought we were having an argument and fled to the his safe-spot in the bathroom. We were startled out of our vehemence, laughed at ourselves and loved on him, reassuring him that all was right in the world.

We celebrate the return of the light. Depending upon the tradition, the celebration-of-light’s-return takes many forms and expresses through beautiful and unique rituals and symbols. The lighting of candles. The exchange of gifts. The sharing of a meal. If you think about it, each of these rituals, across all of the various traditions, are meant to bring us together. Light’s return is a symbol of hope, an annual call to the possibility of unity. Many paths, one mountain.

It is the time of year that we are for a moment capable of acknowledging the impact of our vehemence and actions upon others. It is the time of year that we at least pretend to desire peace on earth; it is the time that we sing songs of goodwill toward others. We ask it of our gods but know deep down that it is a wish that only we can grant if we so choose.

We first must choose it.

Our choices on this day? We will walk a snowy trail and revel in the quiet. We will come home, laugh at ourselves, share a meal and love on our Dogga, his unconditional love reassures us each-and-every-day that all is right in the world. Grateful, we will light our happy-lights, and crawl under a blanket.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BLANKETS AND SOCKS

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Reach For The Wind [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

“And we can love and respect the extraordinary quality of stillness that even a candle can express, of how the chaos of fire is not in contradiction with the understanding of the flame.” Peter Brook, The Quality of Mercy, Reflections on Shakespeare

We walked the trail on a very breezy day. As she crouched to snap a photograph of the open seedpod I watched the tiny feather-sails flutter and strain, responding to the siren call of the wind. Two weeks ago the seedpod seemed so contained, all was in order. Held. Now it had burst. Its purpose was revealed. Success was totally reliant upon the chaotic wind to carry the seeds into the unknown future. The next generation completely dependent upon the fickle swirl of the wind.

The dance of order and chaos.

It occurs to me that we are not so different from the seedpod in our dance with order and chaos, in our attempts at trying to predict and keep-in-order our destiny. Our belief that we can somehow contain or control our future. How little we understand the forces of circumstance in shaping our path and reaffirming our need for the perception of order. It was a seeming collapse of my world, a hurricane of circumstance, that blew away what I knew as stability yet opened a pathway to a new life with Kerri.

Aren’t we currently living through an era of chaos that is blasting our nation to bits? An ugly white supremacist subterranean order has once again been unearthed and brought into the light. The seedpod of democracy has burst. The seeds of our future are ready for the launch. Aren’t we the swirling wind that will carry those seeds into the unknown future?

I encourage you to take 20 minutes and listen to an interview with Maryland’s new senate candidate, Bobby LaPin. Listen all the way through; it is the hopeful sound of democracy’s seedpod bursting, the seeds of our future reaching for the wind.

read Kerri’s blog about THE SEEDPOD


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A Cautionary Tale [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

“When our eyes are graced with wonder, the world reveals its wonders to us.” ~ John O’Donohue, Beauty: The Invisible Embrace

Looking for a headboard for a bed, we combed antique stores seeking hidden – and cheap – treasures. It’s rare for us to pass through the collected quirk of other people’s discards and not find something that we appreciate. We always find but rarely buy the unique sumpin-sumpin that appears. For us, combing the antique shops is like catch-and-release-fishing; the fun is found in the hunt. But, on this day-of-the-headboard, as we left our favorite haunts, Kerri said, “I didn’t see a single thing that called out to me, forget a headboard, I didn’t see anything else, not one thing.”

We launched our headboard hunt because we’re in the process of transitioning one of our kid’s bedrooms into a guestroom. After we moved the old spray painted desk out we needed something to take its place. Although it had only been a few days since we’d made the rounds of the antique shops, went out again, this time mostly to get ideas, to stir our imaginations, to open our eyes to possibilities.

Nothing had changed in the shops, yet we were overwhelmed by the number of cool pieces that we found. Everything had changed in our seeing. Gaping at a gorgeous relic with peeling paint (we are shabby chic with emphasis on the shabby) Kerri asked, “Was this here the other day?” The clerk told us it had been there for months. “How did we not see this?” she turned to me and asked.

It’s one of my lifelong fascinations: seeing and not seeing. We saw the treasure because we stepped into the world with open minds seeking possibilities. We did not see the treasure on the previous day because we stepped into the world with a narrow focus seeking a headboard. We didn’t see the treasure that was right in front of our faces because, well, it wasn’t a headboard.

We see what we expect to see – which is another way of saying that we often miss the beauty of the world because we seek headboards instead of awe. We narrow our vision to the point of exclusion. It’s not a mystery that on the day that we set out to find possibilities that we found too many.

It’s a cautionary tale in a nation that has made an industry out of division and exclusion. We see what we expect to see. The power of the latest election might be that it has opened our eyes and minds to possibility.

read Kerri’s blogpost about AUTUMN LEAVES

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The Way It Works [David’s blog on KS Friday]

She looks for hearts so, of course, she sees them everywhere. That is the way perception works. We have it backwards: we do not “believe it when we see it,” rather, “we see it because we believe it.” We see what we expect to find.

In these un-United States we are witness to the power of propaganda to shape belief. The Fox has millions believing that they are victims of a scary monster named Woke. They are steeped in the illusion of an imagined immigrant invasion. They are choking on the belief that our society is rotting from progress, under assault by the learned. None of these threats exist but that has no bearing on what the fox-mesmerized-audience perceives-and-believes. They look for boogeymen everywhere and, therefore, that is what they see. They see it because they believe it. No facts necessary. Reason cannot punch through the blindness of their hard faith. Heart is nowhere visible in their dark, mean-spirited perception.

Last night we made a pact with our pals. We vowed to slap each other awake if we grow rigid as we age. “I want to stay curious. I want to keep learning. There’s so much to learn.” Yes. And, again, yes.

I left our evening together so grateful for the people populating my life who are, like me – like us – dedicated to seeing miracles in the everyday. They look for possibility and, so, they find it. They are not afraid to challenge what they believe. They question. They step into the unknown. Their belief has not calcified, rather, it remains fluid and expansive. They grow. They check the veracity of what they are told. They do not seek to blame others for their obstacles. They seek the best in others and – you’ll not be surprised – they find it. That is the way perception works. That is the way a healthy society works.

LEGACY from the album RELEASED FROM THE HEART © 1995 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about HEART

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Reach For What Is Good [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Inundated as we are in the political darkness, we made an effort to steep our minds and hearts in the positive and seek the affirmation of the light. So, we went to the arts. We spent a few minutes with James Taylor’s Shower The People (listen through to the end when Arnold McCuller sings a back-up vocal that will make you smile-weep) and we bumbled into a duet of You Can Close Your Eyes that James Taylor sings with his son Henry. Heart opening.

I spent some time reading and rereading Horatio’s latest poem, The Real Work. It’s brilliant and a reminder to seek what we love every single day of our time on this earth. His poem was good medicine for what has recently ailed me.

“Never, never, never give up.” These words by Winston Churchill hang in Kerri’s studio. We’ve both been witness to too many gifted artists give up, lay down their brushes, close the lid on their piano, step off the stage. An artist’s life can be a very hard road so a reminder taped to the wall is sometimes the only thing that brings you back to the studio the next day. Never give up.

These days the quote rings loud-and-true with the meaning it was originally intended to carry. The quote is a shortened version of what Churchill said in a speech in 1941 as Britain stood its ground against the Nazis. Today, everyday Americans stand their ground against the attempted fascist takeover of our democracy. As Kerri said last week on the trail, “It’s like a depraved checkmate.” The supreme court, the republican congress, the department of justice…are all in the pocket of the tyrant-wannabe. Loyalty to the man has overtaken loyalty to the Constitution. The last line of defense is a citizenry who refuses to give up on democracy.

Anne Lamott wrote a piece for the Washington Post on the 4th of July. It provided her reasons to celebrate in this time of national shame. “This Friday, my friends and I will celebrate the land that embraces political marches and rallies, the ones so far and those still to come. This is “We the people,” and that is the ultimate and most profound aspect of America. We are going to keep showing up and talking about what needs to be done and what is possible right now.”

The power of the people is the power of the imagination. The power of the arts is to access the heart and ignite the power of the imagination. What we’ve witnessed these many months is an assault on the imagination of democracy, a lie-pact of the mean-spirited and dimwitted, those who lack the courage and conviction – and imagination – of “We the people”.

As we keep showing up and showing up and showing up it is vital to fill our heart-tanks with the words of writers like Anne Lamott, the heart-opening music of musicians like James Taylor and Bruce Springsteen…to intentionally and regularly drink from the sources of light that fire the imagination and help us do more than resist the dark but reach for what is good and right and possible.

read Kerri’s blogpost about NEVER GIVE UP

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Unlock The Door [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Lodgepole pine cones require the heat of fire to open and release their seeds. Fire is necessary to unlock the door to the next generation of possibility. It is the reason our dear J, as part of her wedding gift, gave us a box filled with Lodgepole pine cones . She was encouraging us to light a fire in each other. And so we have.

As part of our solstice observance, as the sun set, we started a small fire in the fire pit, selected ten pine cones from J’s box, made wishes and set intentions for the seeds-of-opportunity that the fire would unlock, and committed our pine-cone-wishes to the flames. Moving into a new stage of life, we set targets for the next generation of our possibilities.

As I stared into the waning fire, I hoped that the hot authoritarian forest fire roaring through our nation might unlock the door to the next generation of democratic possibility. I hoped that the heat of the fire might once-and-for-all clear the tangle-weeds of white supremacy and hate, remove the undergrowth of thuggery and elitism and prepare the forest floor for new seedlings of fairness, equality and the fulfillment of democracy’s promise. I hoped that it might burn away the strangle-hold private money has on our government so we might trust that our elected officials are public servants and not greedy profiteers.

Rather than repeat the cycle, yet another go-round with oligarchy and near-authoritarianism, I wished for the nation to break the cycle of denial and dysfunction and move into a new, healthier stage of life, a democracy fully committed to democracy: a government of the people that follows a single north star: liberty and justice for all.

We hold within us the seeds.

[Since I wrote this post, we entered a war with Iran. The heat of the authoritarian forest fire just escalated and somehow…somehow…the Republican Congress remains silent. Complicit. One wonders if we must become a smoldering wreckage before they remember they are servants of a Constitution and not a political party or a pariah.]

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE PINE CONE

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The Question Of Orbs [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

“Find a place inside where there’s joy, and the joy will burn out the pain.” ~ Joseph Campbell

She told me this photograph was for me. My paintings often include orbs. I wasn’t aware of my orb-inclusion until the day many years ago that I showed Jim E. my paintings. He asked, “What’s up with the orbs?” Confused, I examined my own paintings. It was a hysterical moment of self-discovery.

At first I liked to think of the orbs as spirits. Guardians or messengers. I am an intuitive painter so I assigned some Glenda-the-good-witch sensibility to my ever-present orbs. Later, I imagined they represented unhatched possibilities or germinating ideas. I loved the idea that we are surrounded by bubbles of potential. Now, I have no story at all for them. I like them. They are there. They make me happy. They make compositional sense.

Last night we discussed our broken road path to each other. If this or that had changed, would we have found each other? Would we be living entirely different lives? From this vantage point, our meeting was all but impossible. At the time, what seemed like the worst possible thing – life collapsed in both of our stories – nudged us to somehow bump into each other. Two bubbles in a vast universe.

Now, joy is burning out the pain.

Perhaps my orbs are homage to the wonder of bubbles in the universe? A nod to the unanswerable question of my life path – ours or any life path: is it random or is it destiny?

“Whatever your fate is, whatever the hell happens, you say, ‘This is what I need.’ It may look like a wreck, but go at it as though it were an opportunity, a challenge. If you bring love to that moment–not discouragement–you will find the strength is there…” ~ Joseph Campbell

Meditation, 48″x48″, mixed media

JOY, 50″x56″, mixed media

read Kerri’s blogpost about ORBS


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Love The Question [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

After an interminable stretch of frigid days the temperatures finally rose enough to venture out. Grateful, we bundled up and headed to a trail. In the five miles we walked, on a path that is in no way remote, we saw at least 10 deer. At one point two of the herd stepped onto the path and scrutinized us. We stared at them and they stared at us.

It’s been true all my life that when animals cross my path or show up in unusual ways I take note and later research their symbolism. I like the idea that nature is communicating with me. I like the feeling that nature is sending me messages, reinforcement, guidance. Is it a game I play with myself or a core belief? I have arrived at a moment in my life-walk that I no longer need an answer to the question. I simply love the question.

We have an old wooden glider in our living room. Somehow, outdoor furniture made its way inside. We sit on it every afternoon. It’s become the place where we debrief life, where we have deep-diving conversations. Lately on the glider we’ve been unpacking the past five years. Our previous half-decade has been fraught. It has been akin to the interminable polar freeze. Sitting on the glider, wine in hand, we appreciated that the deer symbolize, among other things, new beginnings. “If one deer represents regeneration and rebirth, what might it mean that we saw so many?”

It’s an excellent question to hold in our hearts. It’s a question filled with hope in a time rife with national unrest, fear and contention. We don’t need an answer. For now – and always – it’s enough to love the question, to live into the surprise, to welcome the possibility.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE DEER

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