Break Bread [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Ah, bread. There are few sensual pleasures more fulfilling than the smell of freshly baked bread on an autumn morning. There are few taste combinations more delightful than warm bread and hot coffee. There are few visual pleasures more beautiful than racks of freshly baked bread.

There are few symbols more immediately meaningful than bread. Abundance. Breaking bread together is a gesture of friendship, a sign of peace. This world could use some more breaking-of-bread, some more willingness to meet in the middle and participate in that most human of activities: sharing a simple meal.

In the little village we wandered into the Copenhagen Bakery to grab a sandwich and found more than we anticipated. It was a thriving meeting place of the community, packed during all hours of the day, alive with conversation. Rather than grab our sandwich we decided to stay and soak it up – an unusual choice for two people who’ve grown to avoid crowded places. We had to work hard to find a place to sit. The BLT that we ordered was enormous. The remainder of the plate was piled with homemade chips and a chocolate chip cookie. It was an expression of generosity. During our brief stay in the village we went back to the bakery again and again; we needed the nurturing that this place of bread and intentional kindness offered. We needed the experience of a community gathering around warm bread to talk, laugh and share stories.

Intentional kindness. Generosity. Qualities that are magnetic. They create. They uplift. They pull people toward a common center.

In this era of intentional meanness and rampant greed, we are witness to these qualities that can only divide and destroy. They repel and discourage. Dis-courage: literally dis-hearten. Cut out the heart.

Sitting in the Copenhagen Bakery I whispered a wish that somehow, someway, these political parties and our communities, that are so unnecessarily divided, might find their way to this heart-filled bakery, that they might put down their whipped-up-discord long enough to sit for a spell in a space that exudes generosity of spirit and break bread together.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BREAD

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Jump! [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

If you look closely at this grasshopper you’ll see a miracle of pattern and color. It was particularly easy to marvel at this wonder of nature because this grasshopper was HUGE. It was almost worthy of a saddle.

Grasshoppers can only move forward so they are symbolic of jumping over whatever life throws at you, jumping over big obstacles with great grasshopper-gusto and courage.

I’ve heard again and again that courage is not the absence of fear, it is what we do in the face of fear. Now is the time for all of us believers in goodness and the rule of law to evoke our inner grasshopper, to saddle up our jumpers since life has thrown in our path an abundance of masked and unmasked fearmongers.

There’s no going back, there’s no running away. Grasshopper-gusto is our only choice in the face of this fear.

Let’s call each grasshopper-ride a leap of faith – another positive aspect of grasshopper symbolism – trusting that we have the wisdom (and each other) to overcome this – or any – challenge that stands between us and the fulfillment of our great promise and our dreams.

read Kerri’s blogpost about the GRASSHOPPER

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See Good Fortune [David’s blog on KS Friday]

One of the first things Kerri gave me was a small silver acorn. I carry it in a pocket of my wallet. For her family it is a symbol of abundance and good fortune. I have grown to love the acorn bump that now defines my wallet. It is a constant reminder: I carry good fortune with me wherever I go.

This past week we’ve both had miserable colds. We do everything together. Except for our run-in with Covid last fall, it’s been years since either of us has been knocked out by any ailment, especially the common cold. Our timing is not ideal since the weather has been gorgeous. Fall has arrived, warm sun and cool shade are calling. Needing to get out of bed and out of the house, we drove to our loop trail. We walked slowly, moaning and groaning and laughing at our creaky progress – yet the warmth of the autumn sun penetrated all the way to our bones. Our walk was exhausting but it was good medicine.

As Kerri often does, she stopped abruptly, pulled out her camera, walked back a few steps and knelt on the trail. “What do you see?” I asked.

“An affirmation,” she said, showing me the photo of the acorn. “See? Good fortune.”

See good fortune. It’s been a recurring theme lately. See how we are supported. See the abundance of our lives.

It’s Viktor Frankel: bring rather than seek the meaning in your life. “I carry some serious good fortune in my wallet,” I said.

“I know,” she smiled. “And now look! We are finding some on our trail.”

PEACE on the album AS IT IS © 2004 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE ACORN

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Wandered [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

“Help me if you can I’ve got to get back the house at Pooh corner by one.” ~ Loggins & Messina, House at Pooh Corner

It is the height of irony that under the banner of going back to some fantasy greatness we hurtle forward into a fascist future. Those in my info-bubble, woke progressives, yearn for a time when adults were at the wheel of the nation.

Escapism is one of our coping mechanism. A favorite escape is The Chicago Botanic Garden. We’d live there if they let us. Passing through the gates we leave the chaos and corruption behind and enter a world of peaceful calm. It inspires slow walking. It is a playground for the senses: rich colors and interesting shapes. Many of the flowers beckon the nose to savor a deep fragrant inhale. It is nearly impossible to pass the vibrant plants without reaching out to touch them.

It never fails that I round a corner and am met by an image that is straight out of a children’s book. In those moments I am immediately stepping through the wardrobe into Narnia or jumping down the rabbit hole with Alice. The rabbit with the pocket watch must surely have passed this way! If I were a writer of children’s books I’d wander the garden each day for inspiration.

In our last visit to the garden a few weeks ago, wandering through the Japanese garden, I was taken by “the inaccessible Horaijima,” the Island of Everlasting Happiness. It symbolizes paradise. It is purposefully inaccessible, an island of beauty that humans beings cannot reach. Its purpose is for meditation. In the garden of our lives we are meant to focus our minds and hearts on a place of beauty. We are meant to reach for beauty, strive for serene beauty. Place our minds there.

I was overwhelmed. How far has our poor sad nation wandered from its focus on anything serene or beautiful? We currently focus on the opposite, our minds steeped in images from the Island of Devastating Ugliness.

Standing at the water’s edge, Horaijima seemed so close yet so far away.

The children’s book: The adults are inundated with darkness and spiraling down the well of hatred. The Island of Everlasting Happiness is shrouded from view. In desperation, the young girl or boy – or both – set out on a journey to lift the fog, to bring the Island back into view, to return beauty to their elders. Their path is fraught with ogres and trolls determined to stop them. Will they make it in time?

“But I’ve wandered much further today than I should
And I can’t seem to find my way back to the wood.”

Eve, 48″x48″ acrylic on panel

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE GARDEN

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The Very Least [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

“Positive cultural change today (as it has always been) is about leveraging your life where you are: by doing small, possible, measurable daily acts of decency, of protest, of advocacy, of collaboration.” ~ John Pavlovitz, The Beautiful Mess, 2.27.25

Red dianthus symbolizes deep love and affection. We’ve ringed our deck with pots of dianthus. It seems like such a small thing yet every time we step onto the deck, we smile. They invoke our affection. They magnify our deep love.

Symbols might seem like a small thing but they reach to the very core of our being. Who in the USA can see a bald eagle and not be taken by the majesty of the symbol? Who in the world can see a swastika and not be horrified by what it represents?

Language is constructed of symbols. We line our streets with universal symbols: stop, walk, yield, green-means-go. We think in symbols. We dream in symbols. We are naive to ignore or underestimate the power of symbols.

The Texas Democrats breaking quorum was a symbolic act. They understand that single-party-rule, as is now being legislated in Texas, is authoritarianism. Their symbolic act has sent a ripple of courage through an otherwise paralyzed Democratic party.

Yesterday I wrote that in the midst of our national horror, each and every day, we ask ourselves, “What can we do?” If I could I would go to the Texas legislature and stand with the Democrats who are now essentially being held hostage. I wish every lover of democracy could show up this morning on the floor of the Texas legislature and say with their presence, “We will not stand for this.” I wish every lover of democracy could show up on the floor of the nation’s legislature with the same message. Enough.

Protests are symbolic acts. So is delivering donations to a food pantry. John Pavlovitz reminded us this morning that the answer to our question, “What can we do?” need not be grand. In fact, we need only look around our community and, as Ann used to tell me, “Find a need and fill it.” Offering a helping hand is a symbolic act.

Calling out the national guard without reason is a symbolic act. Signing meaningless executive orders to do away with mail-in-voting is a symbolic act. Both are in direct opposition to these symbols: The Declaration of Independence, The Constitution of the United States, The Statue of Liberty, The Liberty Bell, The Boston Tea Party…the vote in free and fair elections.

Our vote is now all that stands between us and the loss of our democracy. By-the-way, that has always been true.

Our vote is under assault by a president and republican congress. They are rigging the system to eliminate democracy in favor of one party rule. They assault nothing less than our foundational symbolic action. The Right to Vote.

Our vote, until now, has been the sacred central symbol – the single symbolic act – of our experiment in democracy: rule of, by, and for the people. According to our symbol, our leaders serve at our pleasure. We choose them. If we do not like their actions, we vote them out.

Until now.

Voting seems like such a small thing. Yet, it is everything.

What can we do? Protect your right and mine, protect the right of every citizen without regard of color or gender, to vote in free and fair elections. It is no small act of decency to protect the single, central action, the primary symbol of our democracy, the one thing that you can DO that actually makes the whole country great: protect your right to vote. And then, when the day comes, exercise your right, perform your symbolic act. Vote. It is the very least – and the utmost – you can do.

detail of a work in progress

read Kerri’s blogpost on DIANTHUS

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Everyday Ask [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

In an attempt to get me to relax, my dear Arnie pointed me to The Fourth Turning. “It’s a necessary cycle,” he said of our current political and national chaos, “as winter is necessary for spring.”

Astrologers point to Uranus currently entering Gemini. Astrologically, we’re in a period of great disruption. The last time Uranus knock-knocked on Gemini’s door was 1941.

In either case, the message is the same: there’s a meta-story at play and there’s no avoiding it. The tornado is here. It is going to lift and spin the house. We are destined to crash-land in Oz for a spell. There’s nothing that will change it so we might as well put on our seat belts and hold on for the ride. We will find a yellow brick road that will one day bring us back to Kansas if we are careful not to smell the poppies along the way. However, we will not be the same as when we left. Neither will Kansas. This disruption is meant to change us. Grousing about it is a necessary phase but, in the end, is not helpful.

These cyclical storms necessitate a dive into our roots. Through chaos they force us into a period of introspection.

Introspection inevitably brings us to an appreciation of the only thing we really have anyway: the moment. The smell of mint. The birds splashing in the birdbath. The voice of a friend. A second cup of coffee. The cool breeze off the lake. The color of the sky. The meaning we choose to make. Gratitude.

In my life I’ve experienced earthquakes and tornadoes, riots and two passes through Martial Law. 9/11. There is one thing that is consistently true in times of upheaval: people come together.

The horrors we enact upon each other invariably – inevitably – make us reach for one another. People lend a helping hand to their neighbors and to strangers alike. Humanity is what we find when we dive into our roots. If Arnie and the astrologers are correct, the rediscovery of our humanity, our interconnection, IS the meta-story, the reset, the symbolic return of spring.

In the meantime, amidst the brutality and disgust, it’s not a bad strategy to everyday ask, “What else is REAL?” – and revel in what you find there. Appreciating the small things are like leaving a popcorn trail that will someday lead us safely home after being so lost in the very dark woods.

read Kerri’s blogpost about WHAT ELSE IS REAL?

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Special Delivery [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Iris is a goddess in Greek mythology. She is like the postal service, delivering messages between the gods and humans. In ancient Greek, Iris means rainbow. ‘Iris links the gods to humanity.” She links humanity to the gods. Tease that tidbit of symbolism apart and she provides the connective tissue linking people to wisdom, human beings to truth.

Although rainbows appear as an arch from the ground, they are actually complete circles, light refracted and reflected through water droplets. The ancient Greeks would never have been able to see the full circle since it takes an airplane to see the whole of Iris but I bet they had no problem seeing the circular nature of truth; the end-less nature of wisdom available if one can climb high enough to see it.

Kerri tells me that it is not unusual to find a single iris all alone in the field. One messenger carrying one message at a time! This messenger stopped us in our tracks because it seemed so out of place. It was a surprise akin to the discovery of a frog in our little backyard pond. “Now, how did you get there?” I ask.

Later, I allowed myself to entertain the notion that Iris was bringing us a message. Her missives are always encouragements. Have hope. Keep the faith. Draw on your courage. The wisdom is within you. I liked the idea that Iris brought us a letter and that the envelope contained a morale-boost, a heartening. Her timing was impeccable. Her simple beauty inspired awe.

Today, as I write this, the nation is alive with Good Trouble protests. I wonder what it will take for the republicans, so dedicated to keeping their heads firmly planted in the sand, to receive the messages from Iris? I wonder what it will take – what they and we will lose – for them to climb high enough to see the circular impact of their actions? Can they possibly believe that undermining their constituents and driving them into poverty will not bring a tsunami to their shores? Do they not understand that turning their backs on the truth to protect a liar transforms them into tissue-paper-fools, too?

In a time that they have lost their collective spine, eschewed their moral compass, it is my hope that they receive a special delivery from Rainbow Iris, a single flower in a field: Find your courage now.

GALENA on 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 IRIS

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Put It To Good Use [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

“Sanity is madness put to good uses, waking life is a dream controlled.” ~ George Santayana, The Elements of Poetry

I wish – oh, how I wish – we could awaken from this nightmare. Democracy dies by gaslight, by demonization, by unbridled lies, by a Me-Me-Me philosophy. By Republican insanity (inanity?): madness put to ill use. Cowardice two-stepping in a righteous cowboy costume.

Viktor Frankel wrote: “The more one forgets himself – by giving himself to a cause to serve or another person to love – the more human he is.” Could there be a better definition of sanity?

We are witness to a national nightmare. It is the tug of war of dueling realities. One, madness put to good use, is called Democracy. It is a dream meant to serve “liberty and justice for all”. To uplift. Equally.

The other reality is discriminatory, exploitation of the many for the profit of the few. It is madness put to toxic use. White nationalism in a self-righteous-wrapper. It is in-sanity. Un-hinged. Ab-normal. To abuse others for personal gain. In-humane.

We fly the flag upside down as a signal of distress. I imagined the bumper sticker was placed upside down to reinforce the point. Stay Weird. The current purveyors of authoritarian insanity intend to hammer us into compliance. To silence the voices of opposition (goodness). They attack judges while freeing criminals; they would have us believe that the rule of law is criminal so that the criminal might lawlessly rule. They would have us behave, stay quiet. Look down or bury our heads in the sand. Goosestep.

There has never been a better time – or more necessary time – to stay weird, to put our mad-ness to good use. To speak up. To act out. Surround and protect the judges: the last line of defense against the authoritarian takeover. To bellow to our AWOL Congress: WHERE ARE YOU? And to make sure they feel the impact of their inaction, their abdication of responsibility. Their betrayal of oath.

Our mythos is full of symbols like Paul Revere and The Boston Tea Party: people giving of themselves to serve a greater cause. The love of others. In our dream of democracy, we know exactly how to deal with an out-of-control wanna-be king. We fly the flag upside-down. We put lanterns in church steeples. We toss money-hoarding and unfair taxation into the harbor. There has never been a more important time to stay weird, to focus our madness and put it to good use – for each other.

read Kerri’s blogpost about STAYING WEIRD

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Opossum Is Asking [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

It was the second time we saw the baby opossum. The first time it was with its mother. The moment they saw us they beat a hasty retreat to their den . It was a cold day and no one had walked the trail since the polar freeze. We surprised them.

This time we rounded the bend and the baby was perfectly still, standing in the middle of the trail. It was as if it was waiting for us. We stopped and returned its stare. After a moment or two it slowly waddled into the safety of the tall grass.

Later, at home, I looked up the symbolism of an opossum crossing your path.

“…in essence, Opossum is beckoning you to use your brain, your sense of drama, a surprise to leap over some barrier to your progress.” (Medicine Cards) Survival. Resourcefulness. Opossums are adapters and thrive in challenging and changing environments.

It’s considered a very good omen and right now, in our rapidly changing and challenging environment, we could use a good omen. And, the message within the symbol matched our concerns of late: how do we become more resourceful in order to survive the havoc being wreaked on our nation? It’s an open question for us, an ongoing conversation.

Last night I had a rare text exchange with my younger brother. “The near future looks bleak but we need to focus on what we really care about and can influence,” he wrote. “I have a wife, daughters, dogs, and a community of friends. I’m still blessed in challenging times.” Our exchange reminded me of the aspect of the opossum that resonated most with me: adapt to thrive in a challenging and changing environment.

To thrive we need to focus on what we care about and can influence.

Bernie Sanders came through town this weekend and thousands of people attended his rally. I was heartened by the energy and the overwhelming turnout. What we need to do to influence the current course of this criminally-stupid-administration: show up, speak out and call out the hypocrisy. Or all of the above. En masse. Non-stop.

When we come together to protect what we care about we thrive. It seems opossum is asking us to use our brains, unleash our sense of drama, so we might surprise the authoritarian and leap over the barriers he/they erect to our progress. There is power in a collective focus. There is unstoppable energy in the collective action of the people. That power and energy is the beating heart of a democracy.

In Dreams She Rides Wild Horses (in process), 42″x42″, mixed media

read Kerri’s blogpost about the OPOSSUM

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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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