Pick Up The Tool And Play [on DR Thursday]

Posted on October 31, 2019 by davidrobinsoncreative

Paint Box copy

If every life is a journey of self-discovery then it follows that every life-journey is supported with a unique series of challenges. The challenges reveal ourselves to ourselves [how’s that for an awkward use of language!]. Obstacles wake us up.

My challenges require a special set of tools. Master Miller sends photos of his young son, Dawson, painting. I love those photos because Dawson is free in his use of paint and brush. His exploration is pure pleasure. It is beautiful (seriously. It is Beautiful).

Last night I sat on the floor of my studio and played with the tools that support my unique series of challenges. I scraped paint with knives. I mushed around color with a fan brush. I was not free. My challenge is to circle back to what Dawson already knows. I think too much. I study too hard. I seek rather than simply experience.

What Dawson knows: I don’t have to look for it. What I seek is already here. I merely need to pick up the tool and get out of the way.  It’s a platitude for the aging but true nevertheless.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about MY PAINT BOX

 

windyHHwebsite box copy

 

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

Grow More Beautiful [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on October 30, 2019 by davidrobinsoncreative

Barney copy

Barney is growing more beautiful with each passing year. New colors emerge. His wood splinters and new patterns play across his keys. The laminate that once served as skin is loose, wrinkled and twisting.

He was once forgotten.  Years ago, someone thought it was a good idea to store him next to the boiler in the basement of the church. He sat in the dark for decades. He provided a surface for loose tools. He stood in water more than once; the basement floods and the boiler breaks. Over time his soundboard was ruined. He was no longer useful according to his original purpose.

He was rediscovered. He was rolled into the light. It was determined that he was too broken to be fixed and he was scheduled to be taken away by the scrap man. It took some convincing but we talked the scrap man into bringing Barney to our house. He helped us roll Barney across the grass. He helped us lift him into his resting place.

Barney has been a fixture in our backyard for the past 4 years. Kerri played him on his first day here and he sounded pretty good. The next day his sound collapsed, his keys stuck; he let us know his time for giving voice was over. He is content in his silence.

Now, he rests. He weathers. He drinks in the sun and the snow and rain as the years cycle through. The plants grow up around him as he slowly sinks into them. We watch and note his changes, the pieces falling off, the chipmunks who live beneath his lid. The purples and ochres and deep rich blues that were hiding beneath the laminate have surfaced. The changing weather, the long road of his life, has teased them to the top.

He quite simply grows more and more beautiful. We think that was his purpose all along.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about BARNEY

 

cropped head kiss website copy

Filed under: Emergence, Flawed Wednesday, Identity, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

Give It To The Fire [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on October 29, 2019 by davidrobinsoncreative

tiki flame copy

I filled the torches with fuel on the first day that we arrived on island. The torches leaned unused against the deck all summer. We thought of lighting them a few times but there was too much wind so we decided against it.

Fire is transformational. It is used in many rituals. Our ritual was at first unintentional.  On our last night on island we planted the torches in the grass between the littlehouse and the water’s edge. We lit them as the sun went down. We wanted to burn off the fuel. There was little or no breeze so it was safe to let them burn. It was only after the sun was down, as we sat talking about our time on island, watching the line of flame, that we realized what we were doing. Letting go of the negative experiences. Celebrating the positives. Making space for the new. Releasing through fire.

The water lapped the shore. The breeze made the flames dance and the leaves rustle. We sat in the elements and re-storied our time on island. We made sense of things. In the final telling we appreciated all that had transpired.

The torches burned through the night. We awoke the next morning as the final tiny flames flickered and went out. The fuel was burned away. The fury was burned away, too. A new day, a route for new experiences, was open and waiting.

 

read Kerri’s post about THE FLAME

 

lastlittlehousefeet website box copy

 

photo: flame through the night ©️ 2019 kerri sherwood

Filed under: Possibility, Story, Two Artists Tuesday, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

Love Your List [on KS Friday]

Posted on October 25, 2019 by davidrobinsoncreative

old friends songbox2 copy

I lost track of Dwight. For years. He  was dear to me and his loss was profound.

And then, after moving to a new city, on a very foggy Easter morning, just after sunrise,  driving a bread truck to work my way through school, I almost hit a man who appeared out of the mist. He was running across the road. I slammed on the brakes, bread flew everywhere. Standing directly in front of my bumper was Dwight. I got out of the truck. In the middle of the road our friendship was restored.

After more than a decade I lost him again. 5 years passed. And then, one day, the phone rang. He was coming to Chicago. The circle returned as I hoped it would. Our friendship is renewed. His presence in my life is a deep generous river.

I am of the opinion that I am rich beyond measure. In my world there is Master Marsh and Horatio, Brad and Jen, Master Miller and Dwight, Arnie, 20 and the up north gang, Judy, Skip, Linda and Jim, John and Michele… Old friends (and new). They stir my thinking, they challenge me to be a better person, they feed my body and my soul. They show up for me when I call. And, I am always grateful when they call on me – that’s how I know we are friends. We want to participate in each other’s lives.

I am now long-lived enough to know that this life is not about the things I do, the achievements, it is about the people I do it with.

 

OLD FRIENDS on the album RELEASED FROM THE HEART is available on iTunes & CDBaby

 

read Kerri’s blog post about OLD FRIENDS

 

wineglassesthreehands61 website box copy

 

old friends/released from the heart ©️ 1995 kerri sherwood

Filed under: Family, Gratitude, KS Friday, Love, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

Deny It [on Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on October 16, 2019 by davidrobinsoncreative

picnic anyone copy

Were I to give this image a title it would be called ‘Denial.’ It smacks of National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation: a holiday obsessed Chevy Chase pretends he is having the perfect family Christmas even as the house comes down around him. Of course, in Hollywood, denial has a happy ending for everyone but the snotty neighbors. Their suffering makes us laugh.

These days I think almost daily of the phrase Roger tossed out a few decades ago: denial is the most powerful of human capacities. He is a director of plays, a great student of human motivation. People are great at denying what they don’t like. People are great at having one too many drinks and getting behind the wheel, or texting while driving because, after all, bad things happen to other people. People are masters at pretending that they are not involved, above it all, or what they see is not happening. Ask the NRA.

The important detail that Roger understood is that denial is never passive. It abdicates responsibility. It assigns blame other places. Chinese hoax. It minimizes the impact. It paints pretty pictures of ugly situations. It throbs with intention.

Denial: the action of declaring something untrue.

Here’s the question that Roger’s observation invokes in me: at what point do we wake up and realize that we are all the snotty neighbors?

[now, don’t you wish that I’d just written about Hieronymous Bosch like I intended?]

 

read Kerri’s less pessimistic blog post on the PICNIC TABLE

 

 

picnic table website box copy

 

the picnic ©️ 2019 kerri sherwood

 

 

Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Random, Rants, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

Paint A Surprise [on DR Thursday]

Posted on October 10, 2019 by davidrobinsoncreative

and now painting copy

This painting hangs in Kerri’s studio. I painted it in secret. It was my wedding present to her.

More than once she came down the stairs into my studio while I was working on it. It’s harder than you might think to surprise someone that you are with 24/7. I’d hear the door open at the top of the stairs and scramble to put a sham painting in front of it.

“How’s it going?” she’d ask.

“Fine,” I’d pant, feigning nonchalance and hoping she wouldn’t notice that the paint on my brush didn’t match the painting on the easel. I’d dab a little here and there to sell my diversion.

She’d stand back and examine the sham painting. “Tell me what you’ve done since the last time I saw it?” she asked, puzzled.

“It’s subtle,” I’d say. “You probably can’t see the changes yet.” She’d squint and purse her lips and continue into the laundry room. I’d sigh and “work” on the sham until she went back up the stairs.

I love this painting. I love how I painted it (it was fun making a secret gift!) and I love why I painted it. It is both simple and complex (like we are). It is alive with symbols that trace stories about us, about our life together, our origin. It is a painting that becomes more “true” with each passing year.

Today, four years ago, I successfully surprised her with this painting. Later in the day, we skipped out of the church, transformed.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about AND NOW [THE PAINTING]

 

wedding pic with website copy

 

photo-1

my bride at our reception! this picture captures exactly what i adore about her.

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

Pat The Hood [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on October 9, 2019 by davidrobinsoncreative

scion sisu copy

 

{and now the unexpected something i wouldn’ t have expected to add a mere two weeks ago i hope to somehow someday have an actual cuppajava with my road trip companion not just tagging along but whose presence i now cherish and totally counts on this trip} ~ excerpt from THE ROADTRIP [Kerri and my play]

We’ve been on our roadtrip since a surprisingly-long-phone call in December 2012. When I met Kerri in person later in the spring of 2013, she picked me up from the airport in her little-baby-scion. I laughed at her little lunch box car because it suited her perfectly.

Since our ride from the airport we’ve been all over the country in the scion. Back and forth to Florida 9 times to see Beaky. To Colorado again and again. Kerri white-knuckled little baby scion over Independence Pass and we celebrated at experimental drink night in Minturn (we walked back to our hotel…well, we staggered back). We’ve tooled around Boston and Hilton Head and Savannah. We broke down once just outside of Sioux Falls, South Dakota. DogDog sat on my lap in the tow truck. We’ve outrun a tornado, crept through blizzards, and sat out downpours on the side of the road. We’ve napped in too many rest areas to count (yes, we were those people).

Almost every mile of our road trip together has been in the seats of the little-baby-scion.

4 years ago this week, I married my roadtrip partner. Best Day Ever. We drove from the church to our reception in that little lunchbox car. And then we drove it all the way to Breckenridge for our honeymoon. And all the way home. On this anniversary week at studio melange, it is only right that we pat the hood and say (as we do everyday), “You go, little baby scion!”

 

read Kerri’s blog post about THE ODOMETER

 

reflectioninxb website box copy

Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Gratitude, Love, studio melange, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

Be Inside It [on KS Friday]

Posted on October 4, 2019 by davidrobinsoncreative

inasplitsecond song copy

This morning I stood in the middle of the kitchen and tried to remember where we keep the pans. It wasn’t a senior moment. This week is a transition time. We are no longer there and not yet here. As we unpack our boxes from the other place, we are slowly reentering this place.

It’s a sweet limbo, these in-between times. They can be disorienting and they can also wake you up.

Among my favorite lyrics in Kerri’s song, IN A SPLIT SECOND:

Walk that thin line of the future and the past.

Linger in now.

As I was listening to her song a few minutes ago, my thoughts plummeted into a fit of images: splitting a second, as if a second was a thing that could be split. Cut a moment in half and what do you have? A smaller moment? A creamy center between two hard cookies? Walk that thin line like a tight rope; if you look down you must inevitably focus either on the future (one side of the rope) or the past (the other side of the rope). Don’t look down. Or, like the great walkers, lay on the rope and look at the sky. Drop the umbrella and let the rope support you rather than split your focus.

I could go on and on (and often do  – which gives Kerri ample practice in rolling her eyes or sometimes in a fit of self-protection she glazes over).  And while I chatter on and on, you should linger. Listen. And, rather than splitting it, be inside your moment. It only takes a second.

 

IN A SPLIT SECOND on the album AS SURE AS THE SUN is available on iTunes, CDBaby and real-live CD’s from KERRI

 

read Kerri’s blog post about IN A SPLIT SECOND

 

not our best morning minturn website box copy

 

inasplitsecond/assureasthesuncopyright2002kerrisherwood

Filed under: KS Friday, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

Wrestle And Be Grateful [on DR Thursday]

Posted on October 3, 2019 by davidrobinsoncreative

Watercolor - Jacob and Angel copy 2

Among the cruelest things I’ve ever said is that I didn’t want to be like Quinn. I spoke those words in frustration, anger and fear.

The truth is that I have spent most of my life trying to be just like Quinn. Articulate, well read, capable of seeing from many points-of-view. Funny. Following his own star. A great teller of stories. He was so wise.

Quinn died last weekend and, today, I am wrestling with my cruelty.

I imagined that one day I’d be able to take back or explain my angry words.  I imagined sitting with him in his study, surrounded by his books and yellow pads and red pens and old coffee and laughing at my folly. He had a great laugh.

The last time I saw him he came to a class that I was teaching. Even after my cruel words he showed up, happy to help me. He thrilled my students with his hilarious musings and tales of serendipity. “Cultivate your serendipity,” he’d say. Intend your happy accident.

I walked him to the door and he hugged me. I was sheepish and he was kind. “That was fun,” he said, mostly to help me in my discomfort.

Kindness. Another quality to emulate.

Mostly, as I wrestle with my angel, I am grateful that providence brought to my life such a good man, such a great teacher.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about WRESTLING WITH ANGELS

 

k&dbw backs website box_ copy

 

this watercolor, wrestling with an angel, is old so let’s just say ©️ 2019 david robinson

Filed under: Awakening, DR Thursday, Emergence, Gratitude, Heroes, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

Burn [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on October 1, 2019 by davidrobinsoncreative

first fire copy

The first fire. It came like a ceremony. We didn’t intend it to mark the passage, the end of the season. But, it did. The lake was angry. The air was cold and wet. Fall had arrived. We could smell it in the air. There was nothing to be done but gather kindling and bring in some wood.

We sat in front of the fire. It dried the wet air. We talked about the events of the summer. We lived a lot of life during our three months on island. We counted the contention, the fire in the organization, by the number of board presidents we’d served: 3 in less than 3 months. It must be a record! It was certainly a sign of the heat transforming the organization. So much ash.

The next night we closed the theatre, the final show was in the books. We locked the doors and stood under the stars and wondered what had happened. The fire burned us, too. We were transformed but will be the last to know how. We just knew that we were different now.

The next morning we began packing the truck for our move off island. We were quiet most of the day, moving. Carrying boxes loaded with the stuff of life. “Next time we will bring less,” Kerri said. “We will know what to expect.”

“Maybe,” I said. She smiled.

We lit another fire on our final night. We watched it burn. The ceremony was complete. This fire was for warmth. Comfort. We sipped wine. No more words necessary. No need to debrief or assign meaning to events. No need to ponder or make sense of things. Ash.

The lake was still angry. The air was still wet. With morning would come the next step, the first step.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about the FIRST FIRE

 

bootsbythestage website box copy

 

 

Filed under: Navel Gazing, Two Artists Tuesday, Uncategorized | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

« Previous Page — Next Page »
  • buy us a coffee :-) Thank you!

  • visit the studio melange at kerrianddavid.com

  • The Seer available on Amazon.com

  • Lucy & The Waterfox is also available on Amazon.com