Mind The Deer [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on November 24, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

We don’t always see them but we know they are present. The deer. We note their tracks and have learned where they usually cross the path. They follow careful pathways, game trails that are visible when we are walking slow enough to spot them.

As a symbol, they are heart-centered. They are associated with gentleness and it’s easy to understand why. They are gentle creatures. Even when bounding away, their leap is graceful and quiet, as if they are careful not to disturb the grasses and ground. They are mindful of their impact on the world.

We feel fortunate when we see them. It sometimes feels as if they show themselves to us. They seem to know when our hearts are hurting so reveal themselves, even for a moment, to help fill us with peace. It’s always true that we stop all movement, all thinking, all worry, all despair…when they show themselves. They are like magical makers of space, instantly turning tumult into vast acres of serenity. They look at us with large black eyes to make sure our spirits are calm, our hearts refreshed, and then they disappear as quickly as they appeared. “What were we talking about?”

“I can’t remember.”

The calm stays with us as we become like the deer, filled with their intentional spirit, quiet and innocent. Present, that special place beyond our future worries and past regrets.

watershed/as it is © 2004 kerri sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE DEER

like. support. share. comment. or leave this screen and go find the deer. you won’t regret it.

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Filed under: Awakening, Energy, KS Friday, Metaphor | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments »

Fill Your Paintbox [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on November 9, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

I know a bank where the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows,
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses and with eglantine:
There sleeps Titania sometime of the night…

[A Midsummer NIght’s Dream by William Shakespeare. Act 2, scene 1]

I played Oberon for the Walden Theatre Company at the Kentucky Center for the Performing Arts when I was way too young to play the role. I said the words and, although I did my research, I only had an abstract grasp of wild thyme and luscious woodbine. I had no depth of understanding of relationship and the mischief it invokes.

Now, those things are visceral. I know them to my core.

Luscious woodbine climbs and covers the fence beside our driveway. The leaves turn to fire in the fall, and when they drop, they reveal the blue berries, toxic to humans but delicious to birds. In a few days, the berries disappear. Woodbine symbolizes the bond of love since it entwines and embraces trees and other plants. And fences. The locals call it Virginia Creeper.

I was witness to the great actor, Jim Edmondson, play Lear for the first time. He was astonishing. After the performance, he said, “I don’t have enough colors in my paint box yet to play this role.” I sometimes wonder, as he aged, if he found the colors he felt he lacked. The intimate depth of understanding of growing old, of losing power, of being shelved. Loss upon loss. Leaves turn to fire and fall. All that remains is the vine.

I’m growing to understand the paradox of life: none of us has enough colors in our paint box when we are young and moving through the complexity. The colors are cumulative. How many times have I said, “Man, if I only knew then what I know now.”

“I know a bank where the wild thyme blows…” Yes. I do. At last.

Weeping Man, 48x36IN, mixed media

read Kerri’s blogpost about WOODBINE

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Filed under: Art, Creativity, DR Thursday, Identity | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments »

Mark The Time [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on November 6, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

As long as we’ve been walking trials – I include trails in other states and nations – we’ve never encountered a salamander. It was so out of the ordinary that, at first, we thought someone had dumped a no-longer-wanted pet on the trail. We railed at the cruelty of humans. But, after a quick google search, we found that this critter was natural to the area. Not a pet, after all. Nocturnal, so rarely seen in the daylight. We recanted our railing, changed our tune, and counted the encounter as rare and special. Which it was.

Our salamander encounter was also a marker in time. This post marks the 300th week of our Melange. 300 weeks of writing about our encounters, our ramblings, our rantings, our hopes, our dreams, our dilemmas. At the beginning of week 1, we placed these words at the top of our website: “Brewed from our studio, sometimes fresh and sometimes aged, we offer a daily blend of goodness, thought, laughter, and beauty.”

We can’t claim to know your experience of our too-much-writing but we can report without reservation that we’ve profited mightily. Each day we sit together and write. No peeking at the other’s post. And then we read. We talk about what the photo prompt inspired, the great mystery of inspiration; where did that idea come from?

As milestone symbols go, a salamander is a good one. In my quick research of salamander-as-symbol, these were the first words I read: “Salamander opens us up to secrets within ourselves, secrets within others, and secrets of the spirit.”

And so we step toward week 301 with a healthy dose of salamander blessing, a renewed intention to brew some goodness from our studio, and a whole lot of gratitude for you – out there – giving some of your time to read our daily blend of goodness, thought, laughter, and beauty.

read Kerri’s blogpost about SALAMANDER

like. share. support. comment. again and again. we thank you.

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Filed under: Gratitude | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Tend The Pond [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on October 31, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

She called it The Big Dig. She always wanted a pond in her back yard so she threw a party, invited friends to bring shovels, and the pond was born. I flew in for The Big Dig since we’d only just met. Early in the day we went to a local landscaper and collected a trailer load of stone. Ted ran power from the garage to the dig site.

A mass of people arrived with shovels. Mudslides were served. People laughed. And, in less than 15 minutes the hole was dug, the liner installed, the pump secured, the stones placed and the hose was busy with the inaugural filling. We cheered when the pump was plugged in and the fountain began to bubble.

The Big Dig was a ceremonial so-long to the past and a hearty welcome to the future. It was the next day, sitting in the sun, that Kerri let the “m” word slip (marriage); she blushed and back-peddled so hard I fell out of my chair laughing. When I could breathe again I confessed that, at that very moment, I too, was thinking about the “m” word. It was the day after the Big Dig that I understood I was about to uproot my life from Seattle and move east.

Each spring when I clean the pond, repair it, and ready it for the summer, I revisit the ceremony. In fact, caring for the pond has become for me a ceremonial revisit to that line between past and future.

Each fall, when the pond begins to ice-over and I am forced to pull the pump, filters and fountain, tucking it in for the winter, I have a rush of quiet thanksgiving. A new life. A second chance.

A decade of seasons has rolled by since The Big Dig. There have been plenty of changes since that day. Dogga arrived and ran deep velodrome paths around the pond, forcing us to lay stone to prevent him from carving a full moat with his racing circles. We put up a fence. We’ve planted grasses. Breck-the-aspen tree found a forever spot and is entering her teenage years. The Covid epoch made us focus on our backyard. We made it our sanctuary.

And, at the heart of our peaceful place, a monument to the beginning of our story, a reminder of our good fortune, a refuge for the birds and chippies that we adore watching, bubbles the pond. Every day. A simple source of nourishment for our souls.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE POND

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Filed under: Gratitude, Love, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

See Green [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on September 6, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

If we call someone “green”, we mean that they are inexperienced. Innocent or new. The term “green-on-green” implies a team that has little experience. Young pilots. Mixed doubles swatting at tennis balls. Newly minted detectives. New growth. Immature. Seedlings.

A green issue is environmental. Renewable energy. Wind power. Green is the color of nature.

In street slang, green has two possible meanings. Money. Green is the color of currency. Or, weed. Green is the color of marijuana. A surprising twist on green-on-green!

I can be green with envy. Or green with jealousy. Green is the color of illness. Apparently coveting makes us sick. “Do you feel okay? You’re looking green.” The Romans thought so. Shakespeare, too.

Google the meaning of green and you’ll find it symbolizes peace, hope, and harmony. Optimism.

In spiritual circles, green refers to fruitfulness and fertility. New leaves. New growth. And so, a full-circle return to the first meaning of green, only “new” need not imply ineptitude as much as promise. Hope. A weave of the many meanings of green!

I’m left pondering why I rarely use green in my paintings. Van Gogh did not shy away from green. He was bold enough to smear his green adjacent to vibrant reds and orange. Opposites on the color wheel. A bang to the eyes. Perhaps there is some green in my future.

On our hike today I can say with all honesty that I was completely taken with the many shades of green.

read Kerri’s blogpost about GREEN

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Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Language, Metaphor, Seeing | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Ponder It [on DR Thursday]

Posted on July 27, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

As you know, Breck-the-aspen-tree almost didn’t make it. Three years in a pot and one ill-conceived planting in the backyard left our poor Breck withered. A new spot in the yard restored Breck’s health but her growth was minimal. We removed dead branches. We assumed we’d stunted Breck’s growth so she would always be beloved and diminutive.

And then…It seems Breck is growing an inch every day. We began the summer looking down at her. Now, we crane our necks to see the new leaves sprouting at the top of her gangly reach. We joke that Breck is doing her Jack-In-The-Beanstalk imitation, though, at this rate of growth, it’s no joke. I confess to having a sit-down chat with her, cautioning her to not grow up too fast.

Last night I was awake most of the night. I thought about Breck and new growth. I thought about the cicadas, a surprising new form emerging from a discarded old body. I hoped against all hope that nature was talking to me, sending me a message. Be patient. All in good time. I’ve been sitting in the hallway for a very long time.

Perhaps, like Breck, I too am waiting for the optimal time, some intrinsic trigger and, suddenly and without warning or inhibition, I will reach to the sky. Perhaps, like the cicadas, in a moment of surprise, my new form will burst out of the old body, amazed at the sudden addition of wings.

In the meantime, I continue to do as I was taught: my job is to “put it out there”. The rest is out of my control [meantime: the intervening time. The hallway]. The operative word is “it”. It. I write and publish almost everyday. I paint and publish. We cartoon and publish. I toss resumes into the wind.

In the dark of night, thinking of aspen trees and cicadas, I ponder worthy questions. Breck needed assistance to move to new soil and then required recovery time. Storing energy for the right moment. The cicada lived underground until it felt an internal imperative to climb – an imperative that I imagine made no sense but had to be heeded just the right moment. For me, if nature is talking to me, it has me pondering what else – that I’ve not yet considered – might “it” be that I should “put out there”? Or better, does “it” matter at all? Perhaps all that I lack is the right moment. And there’s nothing to be done about that.

weeping man, 48x36IN, mixed media

My Site. Up and Running. At Long Last.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BRECK

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Filed under: Art, Creativity, DR Thursday, Edges, Emergence, Metaphor | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments »

Touch The Immensity [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on June 27, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

I’ve always felt a kinship with birds of prey, especially hawks and owls. If I fully comprehend the concept of a “blessing” then I feel blessed when one of those great birds cross my path. A sign. A message. An acknowledgement.

A guide.

Last fall we were with a hawk when it died. From my office window I saw it struggling. It was laying in the middle of the street. I grabbed a thick towel so I might pick it up and move it off the road without harming it. Just as I was ready to placed the towel over the bird, like a rocket it shot into the sky landing in the tree above me. We watched it. After several minutes, it suddenly flapped its wings and then fell to the ground. With the towel, we bundled it and put it into a box. We called Fellow Mortals Wildlife Hospital and the DNR to ask what we should do. By the time we reached someone, it had passed.

It is possible to Google anything so I searched for the meaning of the experience according to the good-god-google: Something new is about to begin. Let go. Move on. Good advice and useful every single sunrise.

Searching for meaning. Making meaning. What could be more human?

I thought about the hawk when we came across an owl feather on the trail. At first we thought it was a hawk feather but the good-god-google instructed otherwise. They are easy to confuse since the feather markings are remarkably similar.

It was important to discern the difference since the meanings according to the good-god-google differ. If an owl feather, then wisdom is the theme. If a hawk feather, then the gift of power and courage to overcome obstacles.

Or, it’s simply a beautiful feather that brings to us the great gift of appreciation, no good-god necessary.

Mostly, the pursuit of meaning from our bird encounters plucks the bass string of human yearning: connectivity to something larger. Something much larger than the good-god-google, a numbers god by definition, sporting 100 zeros. Something much larger than prayers or mantras. The resonating recognition that comes when gazing into the infinity of a midnight sky. The briefest touch of immensity when standing before the rolling endless waves at a beach. The vibrantly alive blue ball of earth as seen from the moon.

Pay attention. This bird carries a message meant for me.

Being – beyond the limitation of words, like the feeling of kinship with a passing hawk. The awe of a midnight hoot from an owl. The driving necessity of making meaning of something as precious and passing as life.

read Kerri’s blogpost about OWL FEATHER

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Filed under: Identity, Metaphor, Story, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Read The Shadow [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on April 19, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Kerri said, “Look at that shadow! It makes me think of the collar Ruth Bader Ginsburg wore with her robe!”

Ruth’s collar was not my first thought. I went straight for Spirograph. The colorful spiral drawings made possible by the magic of plastic rings and wheels.

I suppose most people would have their moment of shadow association and move on to other topics but not us. Our association led to another association: what might Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s collar and a Spirograph have in common?

The artistry of mathematics. Action scribed from a center of integrity.

The Notorious RBG once said, “I am optimistic in the long run. A great man once said that the true symbol of the United States is not the bald eagle, it’s the pendulum, and when the pendulum swings too far in one direction, it will go back.”

The colorful line scribes an arc all the way to the edge of the ring and then, in perfect pattern form, scribes an arc across the board to the other side. And again. And again. Until a beautiful pattern, a brilliant complex roulette is formed. A single line that, at its inception looked random or out of control, running to the extremes, weaves – in the long run – a unified, inclusive, connected design.

Optimism in the long run. The symbol in a collar. The certainty of tides. The balance point found in all polarities. So much hope! A visit from RBG and a memory of a childhood toy. And, all of this from a single shadow cast on a dresser on an early spring morning.

read Kerri’ blogpost about SHADOWS

Filed under: Flawed Wednesday, Metaphor, Pattern, Perspective | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Ask The Same Questions [on DR Thursday]

Posted on March 30, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Their call is ancient and beautiful. I imagine their unique voice reaches back to the pterodactyl. Sandhill cranes. We live on their migration path. Each spring they stop for a rest, passing through, heading north. The Des Plaines river, surrounded by abundant farm fields, provide ample road snacks and safe places for respite.

Last fall, during the southern migration, a crane couple took up residence in a cornfield we pass en route to our trail. They stayed so long that they became a fixture. We expected to see them. Statuesque, always together, I wondered if they were as excited to see us as we were of seeing them. “There they are!” the cranes point to our little black toaster car. “Those two are always together,” they observe. “I wonder where they are headed?”

We make the same observations and ask the same questions of them.

When we first saw their tracks in the snow it felt like a gift, like seeing two hawks circling or several deer peeking from the willows. Their prints were huge, almost too big to be real. They were so distinct that they reminded me of something Andy Goldsworthy might create. Patterns in the snow. Marks mysteriously etched across the landscape.

Were it stone instead of snow, white quartzite, these amazing marks would be petroglyphs. Abraded to leave us a message, a symbol whose meaning was lost in time but inspire speculation none-the-less. “Where did they come from,” we ask, knowing there is no answer but we have to ask anyway.

Our footprints cross theirs on the path. Brad does a masterful crane-walk-imitation. We laugh as man becomes bird, eyes intense. The original theatrical impulse. I look back at the our prints crossing the crane’s and marvel at the image. This startling canvas will certainly melt. Another reminder of Andy Goldsworthy. The power of impermanence, like a sacred sand painting, a spirit captured for a brief moment, witnessed, evoking power, and then disappearing into sun and wind and time.

Canopy, 48x48IN, acrylic

read Kerri’s blogpost about CRANES

Canopy © 2008 David Robinson

Filed under: Art, DR Thursday, Pattern, Seeing | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

“LookIt!” [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on February 28, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Two Artists Haiku

What is in a chip?

Form and meaning see a heart,

Loving reminder.

Kerri sees them everywhere. It’s a seeing-sense that I appreciate: moving through the world finding hearts. Another trait that I appreciate? When she see’s the heart, she stops. She takes time with it. Sometimes she takes a photograph. Sometimes she simply attends to the uncanny heart, taking it into her being. A message or affirmation. “LookIt!” she exclaims as if this heart-find is the first time.

It happens often. Daily.

Sometimes I wonder: is she finding the hearts or are the hearts finding her? “LookIt!” the heart exclaims.

Either way, it’s not a bad way of moving through the world.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HEART

Filed under: Seeing, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

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