sun | The Direction of Intention

Commune With The Sun [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on October 18, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

I confess. For several days I’ve dreaded the sunset. My COVID symptoms seem to escalate in lock step with the march of the setting sun. Sundown; pain up. I’ve read that I am not making it up; apparently my circadian rhythms signal my immune system to be more active at night. That makes for some increased inflammation, fever spikes, and my favorite cough more active.

In the previous era, prior to the virus-that-seems-eternal, I was treated to some extraordinary sunrises and sunsets over the desert. I adore the wind that rises just before the sun breaks the horizon and the heat washes over me. I’m in awe the sense of peace I experience each time the sun dips beneath the sculpted red cliffs and how quickly the temperature drops. My rhythms are indistinct from the circadian rhythms of the earth. I suspect that recognition is the source of peace I feel. Adoration and awe. No separation.

Yesterday, for the first time since we’ve been home, the sun broke through the clouds. We bundled up and set our chairs in the sun. It was better than Advil, soaking the warmth into my aching bones. We sat for a long time in the sun, so intent on drinking in the goodness and heat, neither of us was able to speak. There was the occasional moan and an “Uh-huh,” of agreement. We moved our chairs across the backyard as the sun moved. Healer in the sky.

We are without doubt tuned to the rhythm and movement of the sun. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. Yesterday, with my eyes closed and face to the warmth, I thought, “I am no more or less than this.” I thought again of Gay, standing on the edge of the canyon, saying, “And I get to be here to see it.” There is no pleasure more sensual and reassuring than this: in the midst of feeling ill, to sit in communion with the sun. Drinking it in, so grateful to feel it reach deep and give comfort to the very center of my being.

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about SUN

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Filed under: Gratitude, KS Friday | Tagged: adoration, artistry, awe, circadian rhythm, comfort, communion, connection, covid, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, health, horizon, immune system, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, peace, reassurance, story, studio melange, sun, sunshine, the melange | Leave a comment »

Take Time [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on April 10, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Take time to see the quiet miracles that seek no attention.” ~ John O’Donohue

We donned our heavy vests, stepped into our Uggs and winter boots, pulled the Adirondack chairs into the spot of sun bathing the edge of the patio. The house served to block the chill breeze, more winter than spring. Like sinking into a warm soothing bath after a hard day’s labor, we sank into our chairs, faces to the sun, moaned. The rays of the sun reached all the way to our bones. We’d dreamed of this moment for months and the reality was so much better than our imagining.

Those same rays are calling forth the wild geranium at the base of Barney, the piano. The day lilies are reaching through the crusty soil and dead leaves. The bunny is again in residence though this time her nest is beneath the deck. Dogga’s nose relentlessly investigates her trail but he has yet to catch a sight of her. We keep a watchful eye for the appearance of her babies.

The squirrels empty the bird feeder in a matter of hours. They are incredible acrobats, ninjas. Were I a jewel-thief-in-the-movies I would study squirrels. The birds gather at the base of the feeder pecking the leftovers from the squirrel raid. “It should be the other way around,” I say. “Birds at the feeder, squirrels at the base.”

“Will you refill it anyway,” she asks, already knowing my answer. I smile. The order of things is of no concern to her. She delights in the critter antics no matter how they play out in the yard.

She squeezes my hand. Small miracles abound. I settle back into my sun-warmed chair grateful that we take time to see them.

read Kerri’s blogpost about SUN IN THE YARD

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Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Gratitude, Seeing | Tagged: Adirondack chairs, artistry, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, day lilies, John O"Donohue, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, miracles, peace of mind, presence, quiet miracles, seeing, spring, story, studio melange, sun, the melange, warmth, wild geranium | 1 Comment »

Take The Back Road [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on March 8, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

Even in our race to Milwaukee to meet a deadline, we decided to take the back roads. We’ve learned that the time difference between the freeway and the less-stressful-backroads is often only 15 minutes. I’m finding that getting-there-faster is generally an illusion that always produces heightened stress. We have enough stress as it is so we look for ways to feed-the-calm. To reinforce presence. 15 minutes seems like a fair trade for less angst. Even in a race.

We’re regularly passed on the road by a car-in-a-hurry. We inevitably catch them at the next light. All the aggression, all of the get-out-of-my-way, achieves a car length of advantage. I try and keep that in mind in our age of more/faster, a by-product of information inundation. Aggressive drivers have become something of a metaphor. It takes time to process information. It takes time to suss out relevance. Very little is actually gained by going faster to go faster. Except more stress. It is an un-win-able race.

On our back road drive to Milwaukee we marveled at the clarity of the storm cloud’s line of demarcation. It was as if a giant X-Acto knife cut the clouds exposing a swatch of blue-blue that extended to the horizon. We literally drove under the line. In a moment we moved from shadow to sun. In a moment, the gloom and weight of the stormy day transformed to warmth and rejuvenation. In a moment.

I wondered if the angry driver swerving through traffic, speeding toward a destination, even noticed the line. I wondered if the warmth and rejuvenation we experienced was available amidst the dedicated hurry-hurry. I wonder at the ubiquitous story of needing-to-get-there-faster, getting there first. What is actually gained? What is actually lost?

It takes time to suss out relevance. It takes time to notice the warmth and welcome rejuvenation when it becomes available. It takes time to actually see – to see – another human being on the road to somewhere. It takes time – and taking time, as it turns out, is nothing more or less than a choice, something as simple as taking the back road.

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes or streaming on Pandora and iHeart Radio

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE LINE

like. share. support. comment. in any case, go slow.

buymeacoffee is a stop on the road to somewhere.

Filed under: KS Friday, Metaphor, Seeing | Tagged: angst, artistry, back roads, choice, choices, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, gain, going slow, hurry, illusion, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, loss, moment, presence, rejuvenation, slow, slow down, story, stress, studio melange, sun, the melange, warmth | 1 Comment »

Know The Poem [on KS Friday]

Posted on April 15, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems.” ~Rainier Maria Rilke

“First robin!” she said.

“What?”

“First robin. That means spring is here!” she looked at me with “duh” eyes. I was new to Wisconsin so the rituals were not yet known to me. I did not yet understand that in this strange land a water cooler is called a “bubbler” and that cheese curds are sacred food. Before the week was out, I’d heard it three times from strangers. “First robin!”

Years ago, during my first winter in Seattle, after months of gray, the sun came out for an hour and all the people working downtown poured out of the tall buildings and stood facing the sun. They moaned with satisfaction. “What’s this!” I exclaimed. Weird behavior. The next year, after months of dreary gray, the moment the sun peeked from behind the drab curtain, I ran out of my apartment to revel in the return. Leaning against a brick wall, eyes closed, feeling the warmth on my face and the heat reaching my bones, I knew this was my passage to becoming a “local”. I moaned with satisfaction.

Poetry is visceral. It has it roots in the moans of sun drinkers and robin-seers. The green pushing up from dark soil. The smell of spring or the first hint of warmth on the winter wind. Words cannot capture feelings but isn’t it glorious that we try?

We were walking the neighborhood on a cold afternoon. She squeezed my hand and pointed. “First robin,” I said and she smiled. “Spring.”

Now, doesn’t “First robin. Spring!” sound like a grand start to a poem of renewal? Ahhhhhh, yes. A hint of warmth on the wind, harbinger of green shoots reaching. Someday soon, sun will call me out of hiding and color my pale face.

read Kerri’s blogpost about FIRST ROBIN

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

Filed under: Creativity, Emergence, Gratitude, KS Friday, Language, Metaphor | Tagged: artistry, baby steps, commposer, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, growth, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, language, local rituals, musician, poem, poetry, Rainier Maria Rilke, rejuvenate, renewal, right now, rituals, robin, satisfaction, signs, solo piano, spring, story, studio melange, sun, the melange, warmth | Leave a comment »

Await The Return [on KS Friday]

Posted on December 10, 2021 by davidrobinsoncreative

This time of year I do a lot of staring into the night sky, pondering vastness. Reflecting on the year. It’s what we’re hard-wired to do as we approach the darkest night of the year. And, along with the darkest night of the year, comes the turning point. The return of light. This fact of earth’s orbit has spawned ritual, religious metaphor, and all manner of contemplation, letting go, setting new intentions, since humans first started, as I did last night, looking into the sky. We feel our smallness looking into the face of starry infinity.

This year there’s a delightful serendipity associated with the solstice. We cross the line from darkest night to return of the light on December 21. On December 22nd, as we creep our way back into light, the James Webb telescope will be launched into space and, when it unfurls and points its lens into other star systems, it will be looking for life on other planets. It will be looking for other beings staring into the night sky who might also be pondering their relationship with the universe. I look at you, you look at me.

We are candle people. We light them all the time for various reasons, marking auspicious occasions or simply to lift our spirits. We bought a menorah this fall. Kerri’s clan is religiously complex and we wanted to celebrate Hanukkah with her cousins. I read a bit since I am fond of finding the roots of rituals. I learned that the menorahs with seven branches, among other things, represent the five visible planets plus the sun and the moon. The rounded shape of the branches represents their trajectories across the sky. We lit the candles each night, singing poorly but with love and conviction the prayers. Connecting with her cousins, connecting with the light and pondering our place in a spinning universe.

Sitting at my desk, upstairs, too long staring at a computer screen, I heard her at the piano. I crept halfway down the stairs not wanting to break the spell. She played a carol, quietly. It’s rare these days that she plays. Broken wrists. Resistant fingers. Bruised heart. Yet, the piano calls. The lighting of the candles, the quiet pondering of “what’s it all about”, has made a crack in the darkness. There is a vast inner universe, too. We shoot telescopes into our selves. I look at you, you look at me. Smiling on the steps, I realized that I am anxiously awaiting the return of the light.

read Kerri’s blog post about LIGHT

Filed under: Family, KS Friday, Love, Metaphor | Tagged: artistry, composer, contemplation, dark night, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, Hanukkah, Infinite, James Webb telescope, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, letting go, light, menorah, moon, musician, piano, planets, prayers, reflection, release, rituals, solstice, space, spell, spirits, stars, story, studio melange, sun, the melange, vastness | Leave a comment »

Invite The Humor [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on March 9, 2021 by davidrobinsoncreative

The sun at last. We pulled on our snow boots and walked the neighborhood, arriving at a place sacred to us, the Southport Beachhouse. It’s the site of our wedding reception and candlelight anniversary dinners on the beach.

Kerri packed a snow ball and another and another. She made a tiny snowman. We scrounged the snow for sticks, small cones for eyes. “He’s so cute!” she said. And then, “Do you think he knows the world is off its axis?”

“No.”

“Lucky snowman!” she sighed.

Horatio had me laughing during our call. He told me that the story of Job was meant to be a comedy and, in his telling, it was hysterically funny. He has me convinced. Grim circumstance is fodder for good humor. It’s why the classic slip-on-the-banana-peel is so funny. I told him that Kerri and I are waiting for the whale to burp. Despite what it seems, our time in the belly of the whale is temporary. Sooner or later, every good comedy comes to a happy ending.

The trick, I suppose, is to recognize that you are living in a comedy and it is better to laugh than shake your fist at the sky.

Sand paintings, like snowmen, are temporary. They are meant to invoke healing. They are meant to provide protection. “Do you think he’ll be here tomorrow?” Kerri asked as we walked away.

“No. He’ll enjoy his day in the sun and that will be it,” I said. She looked at me sideways.

Impermanence. A day in the sun. A snowman made for fun and not forever. In making it, we found an ounce of perspective, some tiny snowman healing.

read Kerri’s blog post about THE SNOWMAN

Filed under: Metaphor, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: comedy, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, healing, impermanence, Job, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, snowman, spring, sun, temporary | Leave a comment »

Drink The Sun [on KS Friday]

Posted on October 9, 2020 by davidrobinsoncreative

a haiku for ks friday:

turtle drinks the sun,

we stop each day to witness.

our path ambles this way and that.

MEANDER on the album AS IT IS is available on iTunes

read Kerri’s MEANDER haiku

Filed under: KS Friday | Tagged: AS IT IS, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, meander, meander on itunes, sun, turtle, warmth | Leave a comment »

Pray For Apollo [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on April 28, 2020 by davidrobinsoncreative

contrail copy

I confess to seeing this contrail and thinking it might be Apollo’s chariot. Of course, if it was Apollo’s chariot then we’d all be in really big trouble. The sun seems untethered from the chariot. Depending on how the myth is told, the sun is either being pulled by the chariot or the sun IS the chariot and, either way, if you are seeing what I am seeing, Apollo has lost control.

Of course, the other side of my brain always kicks in and I think to myself, “Apollo flipping across the sky, gripping the reigns, sans chariot, is not a bad metaphor for these troubled days.” In addition to riding the chariot/sun across the sky, Apollo is symbolic of reason and logic. All things illuminating.

Our world is upside down. Fact is assailed as fiction. Conspiracy theories are traded like baseball cards to deflect attention from the actions of a feckless president pushing disinfectant as a pandemic cure while science bites its tongue for fear of offending him. Blame inhabits the vaunted seat of responsibility. A good portion of the population willingly and knowingly plants their heads in the sands of propaganda. Reason is shunned. Questioning and perspective are rejected. Sand is preferable to logic. We’ve reduced our hallowed ideal of jurisprudence to base partisanship; justice is no longer blind but sees in shades of red or blue.

Apollo twirls like a kite, hanging on for life to his mighty horses as they race across the sky, wild-eyed, in no particular direction.

read Kerri’s blog post about CONTRAILS

Filed under: Metaphor, Perspective, Two Artists Tuesday, Uncategorized | Tagged: apollo, blame, chariot, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, fact, feckless president, fiction, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, logic, mythology, pandemic, propaganda, reason, responsibility, sun, symbol | Leave a comment »

Fly Between The Poles [on DR Thursday]

Posted on September 27, 2018 by davidrobinsoncreative

a morsel from ‘angel.’ kerri calls it ‘you can’t hold the sun’

Icarus‘ wings were made of wax and feathers. His father, Daedalus, made them so he and Icarus could escape their imprisonment. Before taking flight, Daedalus warned Icarus not to fly too low nor too high. Icarus flew too close to the sun, the wax melted and his wings fell apart. He fell from the sky and drowned.

We see most of the Greek stories sifted through a post-Greek moralistic lens. Fly to high, hubris. Fly too low, complacency. The world as defined by polarities. Heaven, hell. Good, bad. Right, wrong. There’s another possibility.

Quinn used to tell me that the point of all the world’s religions, the message in all the great stories, is to find the middle way. To live in the center. This world, he said, will try its best to tug you to the extremes. It will dose you with propaganda, half truths. It will glorify US and demonize THEM. It will bamboozle you into twisted notions like ‘the dehumanization of others is okay.’ It is the lucky person that realizes that it is impossible to strip others of their humanity without also losing their own. Polarities are like that.

So, seek balance. Walk between the tug of the poles. It is the point of presence – live here, not in the scary future nor the regrettable past. Fly, not too close to either pole, but through the middle. Now. It’s possibly the point of the story.

This morsel is called You Can’t Hold The Sun. It’s true. You can’t stop time. No moth can withstand the flame. The sun will melt your waxy wings. The sea will make your feathers heavy with dew. Either way, you fall.

In the face of too much moralizing, Kerri will say, “If it’s not about kindness or joy, it’s not about anything.” That’s a statement from the center. I like to think that this center place, this middle way that Quinn told me about, is what we call love.