Let It Sit [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Over thirty five years ago, people I loved, people who loved me, bought me an easel. It was a gift for my very first solo show. All these years later, it is the only easel I’ve ever had, the only easel I use. The only easel I will use. If the canvas is too big, if I can’t put it on my easel, I tack it to the wall.

My easel is well traveled. It moved up and down the west coast. It moved into and out of studio spaces. It rode in the truck to the midwest. It has hosted hundreds of canvases. It has become the Velveteen Rabbit of easels. It is no longer shiny and new. It is covered with layers of acrylic drips and splashes, the support stabilizer is bowed, I must be vigilant to keep it square. It is, I recently realized, my mirror image, my double-walker: I, too, am covered with drips and splashes, my stabilizer is bowing, and I am constantly vigilant about keeping myself grounded and square.

A few days ago, during a studio clean, I decided it was time to do a bit of easel excavation and repair. The build up of acrylic paint on the bottom canvas holder is…prodigious. I wasn’t prepared for what I was about to experience. As I peeled back the layers of acrylic, I unearthed the layers of my creative life. The layers of my life. I could literally associate the colors of the acrylic strata with specific paintings, with specific eras, with foibles and triumphs, despair and new hope. There were many many layers. It was like reading a diary, a life review in spatter.

Tom McKenzie taught me that in order to invite in new energy it is sometimes necessary to close the shop. Lock the door and let it sit. Make space. Time and patience will loosen the grip of old ideas, stale patterns – and open pathways to fresh possibilities. I’ve followed his sage advice twice before. Once I stopped painting for a full year. I not only closed the building but I burned the paintings. In both cases, locking the door was followed by a renaissance, a surge of new and surprising work.

I saw the story of my twice-artistic rebirth as I slowly peeled the history from my easel.

And, as I stripped back the layers of my life, the full understanding of what I was doing settled in. I am cleaning my easel in preparation for my third closing of the building. I am cleaning it so it will be ready for that day-in-the-future when I unlock the door. Spacious and rejuvenated. I have been fighting it. I have been angry about it because I feared it – I always fear that the muse will leave and never come back even though I know in my bones that the muse is the wise-voice asking me to breathe, to make space. Now, as is always the case after a few years of fighting a losing battle, I am accepting it. It’s time to lock the door. Empty the glass. Let it sit.

read Kerri’s blogpost about SPACE

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One And The Same [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

[Embrace of Life by Mimi Webster in the John Denver Sanctuary]

She shared a video posted by a friend: elephants drinking from a watering hole. The opportunity of a lifetime to see it. Yet, it is something that happens everyday if you live in that part of the world. The ordinary and the miraculous, one-and-the-same.

He wrote that he was helping his granddaughter move from college for summer break. His love was palpable. The task was nothing more or less than an opportunity for shared time. Time shared, nothing better.

We took a walk along the lake, my dear-friend, long lost and newly found. We were catching-up on missed chapters and yet talked as if we were picking up a conversation that we started yesterday, as if no time passed between our last meeting and today. In the telling we consciously wove together the rich tapestry of our friendship-story, the necessary sharing of triumphs and tragedies. All important colors on the palette.

“When was the last time we were here?” she asked as we crossed the bridge into the sanctuary. More than a few years. “So much has happened,” she whispered. So much. We are different than the couple who held hands and crossed this bridge in the past. We no longer swim against the current. The wisdom of exhaustion. She saw the sculpture, Embrace of Life, turned and threw open her arms, mimicking the pose and said, “Yes!”

read Kerri’s blogpost about EMBRACE OF LIFE

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Be Where You Are (David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday)

“Your soul knows the geography of your destiny.” ~ John O’Donohue, Anam Cara

A picture of Joseph Campbell floated across my stream. It included a quote, a reference to Nietzsche: “the love of your fate.” “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.”

Love your fate. Bring love to the moment. You will find strength there.

When I was a teenager I was on a bus trip to camp. Imagine it. A bus filled with excited teens, bristling to hit the mountains for adventure and mischief. And then the bus broke down. A tsunami of disappointment was rolling through the bus until the counselor laughed at us. He challenged us to embrace this, our fate, part of the adventure. “This is it! Your adventure has already started.” he said, “Why resist it because it doesn’t fit your picture?”

Kerri and I are addicted to watching mountaineering documentaries. They boggle the mind of the average homebody because the conditions for the climb or the hike are often miserable yet there are smiles and laughter amidst the misery. In a recent film, a trek through extreme circumstances and conditions, one member of the team said, “You have to focus on the adventure and not the plan. If you fill yourself with expectations of good weather and an easy path you will be miserable.”

On the broken-down bus or the trail with the adventurer, the message is the same: get out of resistance of the reality of the moment. And, maybe, that is what it means to bring love to your fate. It’s great to have a plan. It’s necessary. But when the bus breaks down or the snowstorm blows in unexpectedly, when the job falls away, when the wrists break…As philosophers, poets, and sages across the ages have advised: be where you are.

We daily remind ourselves: the adventure has already started. Why resist it because it doesn’t fit the picture.

read Kerri’s blogpost about LOVE YOUR FATE

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buymeacoffee is the place where fate meets support and support generates titanic appreciation.

Snack And Be Lost [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Years ago I wrote to Rob and told him that I felt lost-in-the-woods. His advice to me was to be lost. To sit down in the woods and rest for awhile. Orientation would come with a clearer mind. It was sage advice.

Yesterday Rob wrote to me and told me that there was a hole in his life. My advice to him was to sit in the hole for awhile. Let go of attempts to fill it and experience the hole. Wholeness would come in time. It is grand to return sage advice to the very person that offered it to you.

Lostness. The hole. They are not fixed states. They are fluid. The same is true of wholeness and found-ness. They are never forever. Life rolls on and each new day brings surprises and change. Comfort and discomfort. Thank goodness.

Rob’s message to me was simple: I never resist the comfortable experience of knowing-where-I-am so why should I resist the uncomfortable experience of not-knowing-where-I-am. The discomfort comes from the resistance so stop resisting. Be lost.

The sun is setting early these days. Our shadows stretch long on the trail by 3:30. I’ve not adjusted and it throws me for a loop. Disoriented, I stop, turn and look at the orange ball low on the horizon, shining through the trees. The seed pod glows and reminds me of a crazy muppet in mid-howl. In an attempt to orient I ask, “What time is it?”

“Snack time,” she said.

Ah, yes. With a lifetime of sage advice swirling around my soul, to this latest disorientation, I willingly gave over and offered no resistance to her suggestion. The lesson I wish I knew when I was younger: disorientation, sitting in my lostness, is always easier done with snacks.

read Kerri’s blogpost on LOW SUN AND SEED POD

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buymeacoffee is a table for two set in the deep woods made available for anyone lost and willing to sit down and rest for a spell.

Study Flow [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Kerri just reflected that, so far this week, my posts have been cynical. “Now that wasn’t snarky at all!” she said after reading my Tuesday post. The unintentional theme of the week has been the silencing of people. That makes me sarcastic. Irritable. Sad. She suggested that I lean over and read my Post-It-note-life-reminder: Grace. Questions not answers.

It’s true. I need daily to remind myself to move toward rather than push against. Flow rather than resistance. I am more of an idealist than I care to admit so resistance comes easy. Seeing what-is-wrong-with-the-world is embedded in my DNA. It’s the dark-side of the idealist moon.

Because resistance is natural, flow has been my study. It is my life lesson. It is why I am drawn to tai-chi. Yoga, the physical art of opposition. Polarity and the other Hermetic principles. Circles and cycles rather than lines and achievements. These are my masterclass of balance: there is a time for resistance. There is a time for flow. Both/And.

Grace is a word of flow. Nimbleness. Poise. Ease.

The water flowing off the roof of our neighbor’s garage froze the vines on the fence into a crystal ice chandelier. The watercourse way slowed so we might appreciate it. It slowed so I might understand it: flow and resistance are two forms of the same thing. Ice is water. Water is ice.

Grace. Nature is an excellent teacher. Better than my Post-It note. Sans cynicism. Gorgeous in its lessons.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FLOW

Stay On The Root [on KS Friday]

“Energy cannot be created or destroyed; it can only be changed from one form to another.” ~ Albert Einstein

Saul’s words have been ringing in my memory: “Stay on the root.” He was a tai chi master.

He might have said, “Stay grounded,” but his reference to “the root” is more dynamic. When on “the root” there is absolutely no resistance to circumstance. Nothing can knock you off center. You are solid, rooted; not for resistance or fight but for flow. No kinks in the energy-hose.

Presence is a requirement of being on “the root.” If your mind jumps into fear-of-the-future it will pull you off center. If your heart dives into regret of the past, it will yank you off balance. Saul might remind us that our bodies are always present. What else? Our minds story us into stress and, mostly, the horror stories we tell ourselves never actually occur. Or did occur.

Here’s the most important part of his instruction: when staying firmly on”the root,” a place of no-resistance, flow is possible. In fact, anything is possible. That may, to some, sound like new-age nonsense but it is actually age-old wisdom. It’s a practice of getting out of your own way. Assume nothing. Lilies-of-the-field, etc. There’s a timeless fable about a farmer and a horse…

A week ago we walked our trail and the leaves were vibrant with color, electric. Now, they are mostly on the ground. Transforming. Nutrient for the soil. I doubt the leaves felt fear of falling or spent an ounce of life-energy in regret.

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read Kerri’s blogpost about THE LEAF

figure it out/right now © 2010 kerri sherwood

Be Manly [on saturday morning smack-dab.]

Don’t be deceived. Even though I’m a sensitive male, a soft-guy, an empath, an introvert, a painter…I am, after all, still a man. In a pre-google-maps-world, when lost, I’d never stop the car and ask for directions. I’d flex and figure it out. If you have a problem, my first impulse is to fix it. Guy stuff, through and through. Sometimes I even surprise myself. “How manly of me!” I exclaim.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BOY-GIRL STUFF

smack-dab. © 2021-2 kerrianddavid.com

Look To The Field [on Two Artists Tuesday]

“…if you observe your mind very quietly without giving explanations, if you just let the mind be aware of its own struggle, you will soon find that there comes a state in which there is no struggle at all, but an astonishing watchfulness. In that state of watchfulness there is no sense of superior or inferior, there is no big man or little man, there is no guru. All those absurdities are gone because the mind is fully awake; and the mind that is fully awake is joyous.” ~ Krishnamurti, Think On These Things

Saul told me to look beyond my opponent to the field of all-possibilities. He even gave it a location, a hundred feet beyond where he stood. We were doing an exercise called push-hands and, as a tai-chi master, he was teaching me not only where to place my focus but also where to place my belief. It took me a few years to grok: believe in resistance and resistance will appear. Call it an opponent and you’ve defined the relationship and, therefore, your choices. An obstacle is only an obstacle because it is identified as so.

I met Kerri because my world collapsed. Did my world collapse or did it open? Saul would say, “Neither.” Energy is energy. It moves and we give story to the movement, thereby shaping it. Storytelling is more powerful than we know.

Saul might as well have said, “The opponent lives in your mind. Look beyond your mind. Look beyond the story.” It’s a good practice to have an experience before naming it. It’s a better practice to have an experience and not name it at all. I’m not there yet, though I can see the field that Saul recommended. It exists beyond my definition-noise.

Saul threw me across the room yet never touched me. He laughed. I wanted to ask, “How did you do that?” but I already knew what his answer would be: “I didn’t. You threw yourself.”

read Kerri’s blog post on this Two Artists Tuesday

tree and sky © 2021 kerri sherwood

Roll Easier [on KS Friday]

“I feel like I’ve been writing about fall all week!” she said, “What more do I have to say?”

She took this photograph during a walk around our neighborhood. When we left for Colorado the leaves were just beginning to turn. A week later, when we returned, the ground was a festival of color. The sidewalks beckoned children of all ages to drag their feet through the leaves. Shushing sounds. Instead of dragging her feet, she knelt to get closer. “Lookit!” she gasped, all one word. If appreciation is prayer, then sometimes taking a picture is prayer.

Rather than at new years, the fall is when I find myself making resolutions. My resolutions are rarely about achievements – things that I want – and more of what I desire to let go. What will lighten my spirit-load? I am a wanderer to the core and so much of what I’ve accumulated in life is heavy to carry. Making shushing sounds through the leaves, I know this fall that I will leave behind some friction. I’m dropping some long-held resistance, so I might roll easier in the world.

Fall is for reflection. Fall is for dropping brilliant leaves and making sounds with the crunchy color. Synesthesia. What more is there to say?

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read Kerri’s blog post about FALL

millneck fall/blueprint for my soul © 1997 kerri sherwood

Be Difficult [on Merely A Thought Monday]

I confess that I’ve been struggling to form my thoughts around this prompt. It is a remarkably different task for me to write about women being seen as difficult than it is for Kerri.

I have, my entire life, been surrounded by powerful women. My first sweat lodge experience was with 11 women; I was the only male. It is not uncommon for me, when I take classes or join cohorts or enter groups, to be the single male in a gathering of women. I have been privy more than once to the conversation of veiled power. The necessity of eggshell-walking in a world of male expectations. Deep into the truth-telling, the women remember that I am present and invariably turn to me and say, “No offense.” I usually make light of it, “Don’t worry,” I say, “I know I’m an a**hole.”

What I want to say is, “You’re doing it again. Why should you apologize to me for being honest?”

Kerri just read me her post. It is honest. After she read to me she said, “Do you think it’s too much? Do you think I need to tone it down?”

“You’re doing it,” I replied. “The very thing this prompt is about: questioning yourself because the prospect of speaking your truth will probably make you appear difficult.”

I considered asking her to do an experiment: swap posts. What might we discover if I publish her words as mine? If her words come from a male voice will they be considered offensive? Too emotional? Un-reasonable? Would I be applauded where she would be vilified? Probably. Luckily, I didn’t speak my wacky idea. I realized that we’d be, once again, finding a way to veil her words.

Over the weekend we watched a short film of elder women speaking about the need to return this earth to some semblance of balance. Women’s voices meeting men’s voices as equals. Yang AND Yin.

There’s a hysterical scene in My Big Fat Greek Wedding. The strong women of the family want something done but, in order to make it happen, they must convince the patriarch, Gus, that it’s his idea. Making it appear to be his idea is the only way. Actually, it’s a theme and happens more than once in the story. “The man may be the head of the household.” Maria tells her daughter, “But the woman is the neck and can turn the head whichever way she pleases.”

It’s funny and poignant in the film because it rings so true in life. Powerful women cloaking their power to make the man think the idea is his. Sometimes it is the only way to get things done. It is the path of least resistance.

Perhaps a little resistance is what is called for. Powerful women refusing to veil their strength, willing to be vilified and branded as difficult. From my seat in the corner, listening to the conversation of these incredible women, they understand something that the boy’s club has never understood but clearly fears: power and control are often conflated but they are not the same thing. Power is something created together. Control is something one does to another.

read Kerri’s blog post about DIFFICULT WOMEN