post covid | The Direction of Intention

Step Out [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on August 8, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Covid made us near-recluses. We have been, like many people, in this “post Covid” era, bumping into a glass wall when we attempt to venture out. It’s as if our social muscle has atrophied. We assign the blame to our current financial situation yet we both know that isn’t true; we live in a region with abundant free concerts and festivals and markets. We can walk to many of the events. We’ve been gifted tickets to museums and gardens.

We plan to go. We make the time. We take a step. We hit the glass. We take a walk in the woods instead. “I’m not sure I want to be in a crowd of people,” we chime. “Too much noise!” we insist.

We point the finger at stress yet we know the very thing we need to do to decrease our stress is to get out of the house, have an adventure, stir the pot…be with people.

With the help of friends we are slowly re-entering the world. Our weekly hike-and-spikes with Jen and Brad. We took 20 to the art museum. We have plans to walk the Third Ward in Milwaukee and eat dinner at the Public Market. Small steps.

It is not an understatement to suggest that Saturday we hit the wall and simultaneously melted down. We made plans to go to an outdoor concert. The evening was perfect. We decided not to decide – another avoidance strategy when our noses are pressed to the glass. It was almost too late. And then something broke. After shaking our fists at the sky and each other, in an act of self-defiance, we stomped into the car and drove to the concert. Birthing pains.

The music recharged us. The audience recharged us: happy people sipping wine, eating cheese and bread, talking, sharing, laughing with the people around them. Complete strangers bonded in kindness, a generosity of spirit enlivened through the shared experience of music. Never suggest to me that the arts are not powerful.

I think we just re-entered the world. Or took an important first step. Certainly, the music cracked the glass wall. I wanted to weep and laugh at the same time. Even as a devoted artist I am sometimes overwhelmed at the subtle, often unrecognized, capacity of the arts to unify and…heal…the human heart.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE CONCERT

share. like. support. comment. many thanks!

Filed under: Art, Metaphor, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: artistry, birthing pains, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, friends, friendship, glass wall, healing, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, music, post covid, recluse, social, story, studio melange, the melange | 3 Comments »

Throw Open The Window [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on December 21, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

Sometimes it feels as if we were shot into space for a few years and have come back to much changed Earth. Or, it feels like we were stranded on a desert island and are returning to places now strange in their familiarity. Reentry from isolation. Everything is changed. We are changed. The rituals of the season punctuate the strangeness.

We’ve been delighted to once again have dinner with friends. Unmasked. Unprotected. Indoors. I look at the faces of the people I love as we laugh and I think, “Oh, yes. I remember this.” The warmth of companions-in-life, reaching across time and covid boundaries. “We missed you,” we say, relearning who we are together. Our faces are older. Perhaps wiser in all that has passed.

Last year we drove to North Carolina. We arrived late in the day on Christmas. We walked through the small town, beautifully lit for the season, though seemingly abandoned. Our footsteps echoed off the walls. We were happy to be there, enjoyed the displays in the windows, we walked down the center of the street with no thought of possible traffic. We held hands. The absence of others was so normal that we didn’t think it odd that we had an entire town to ourselves.

This year is the mirror image, an alternate reality. People are out. We are out though the vestiges of isolation hang on us like Marley’s chain. We stop to take photos of the lights like ethnographers fascinated by the ceremonies of the locals. I found myself staring at the row of illuminated trees wondering what it represents. “Why can’t it just be pretty!” I admonished myself. “This is how people celebrate the season.”

And, aren’t we all looking for the moment that Scrooge awakes after a night of ghosts with new eyes and a deeper understanding of precious life, throwing open the window to the morning sun, hoping against all hope that he hasn’t missed it and asks, “Boy! You there! What day is it?”