A Place Called “Home” [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on December 13, 2024 by davidrobinsoncreative

“We need, in love, to practice only this: letting each other go. For holding on comes easily; we do not need to learn it.” ~ Rainier Maria Rilke

I’ve never been a big fan of the holidays. Most of my life I’ve lived far away from family. Most of my life I’ve been a wanderer, detached from any meaningful feeling of “home”. I’ve never been a believer in any religious tradition though I understand to my bones the deeply human necessity of celebrating the solstice, observing with ritual the return of the light. It’s mythic, this annual journey through the darkness and back into the light.

It’s an experience common to all people on earth. No matter the story wrapped around it – birth or rebirth or journey or emergence – the commemoration of light’s return springs from a shared human experience. Literally and in metaphor, our lives parallel the movement of our planet around the life-giving sun. Would that we could recognize our sameness instead of fight over our perceived differences!

As I’ve previously written, the moment I stepped into this house was the first moment in my life that I felt “home”. In my imagination I saw the word “home” written on the wall. As a dedicated wanderer it frightened me. Now, more than a decade later, I am grateful for the intense struggle the wanderer-in-me fought and lost to finally – finally – arrive home.

We decorate our house for the holiday over many days. It is a work in progress that is both intentional, improvisational and responsive. We discover as we go. This season, in a nation filling itself with darkness, we have more reason than ever to create a space in our home that celebrates the return of the light.

We are also learning, in the midst of this looming shadow, how to fill ourselves with light. How to let go. We are learning how to stand in a center of intentional light in the midst of the swirling darkness. We are more than ever understanding the necessary delineation between solid-center and fluid-circumstance, how to root in the center without grappling with the passing state of affairs.

As we clean out, as we practice letting go of our stuff, both literal and metaphoric, we also decorate. We create a beautiful space, simple and warm, a place called home, safe and solid, where we turn to the sky and witness the return of the light.

The Lights on the album of the same name © 1996 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blog post about DECORATING

likesharesupportsubscribecomment…thank you.

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Go Curly [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on December 19, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Left to its natural state, Kerri’s hair is as curly as curly-ribbon or the curling leaves of this winter grass. It’s gorgeous though someone, somewhere, convinced her that her curls were passé. Her mom and I waged a not-so-secret campaign to stop-the-straightening but we had little to no impact. Every so often Kerri lets loose her curls and always receives raves but they somehow bounce off the image-shield of straight hair.

I have an image of myself. Lately, when I look in the mirror, I see something other than the image that I expect. It’s something to play with! I appreciated the early days of acting school because it demanded a constant change of image. More than once I had to cut off all my hair for a role. There is a power in studying character, realizing that who we are is not a noun but a process. Character – personality – is how-you-do-what-you-do and not “who” you present to the world.

Also, as a teenager I had an image of who I would become. I am surprised to report that I’m not the cross between Leonardo da Vinci and Joseph Campbell that I intended. No amount of straightening the road could alter my wandering (curly) path. I realized, none-too-soon, that to achieve my image I would have had to betray my nature. I am – and always have been – the steward of a “beginner’s mind.”

Kerri has a theory that people do not change, they become more of who they really are. The layers of imagined-self drop off. The core is revealed over a life-time of shedding images. Self-discovery a la paring down.

I grew my hair (again) after moving to Wisconsin. When I met Kerri I was still sporting the short-short hair that my clients expected of me. For some reason, my clogs were acceptable as an outsider invited into the hallowed walls of the corporate arena but long hair was too much. Long hair was a bridge too far. So I cut it. Now, the longer it gets, the more Kerri (and 20) tell me that I look more myself. I’m not sure what that means to them but I agree. It fits my image of me. I always use the opportunity to tell Kerri that when she allows her hair to go curly, she looks more herself, too. After all, her mom and I have not given up our campaign. Although Beaky is on the other side of the veil, I feel her poke me. That’s my cue to lobby Kerri to shed the image-of-straight, to become more of who she really is, and sport those gorgeous naturally curly locks.

(The title track of Kerri’s very popular X-Mas album, The Lights. She’s inserting into her post so I wanted to also drop it into mine. Happy Holidays!)

the lights/the lights © 1996 kerri sherwood

The Lights is available on iTunes

stream The Lights on iHeart Radio

read Kerri’s blogpost about CURLS

like. share. support. comment. curl. find your nature. or not. it’s all good.

buymeacoffee is an internal image of wildly curly hair meant to bring you at long last to your true nature.

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Weave Her In [on KS Friday]

Posted on December 16, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

These story moments happen spontaneously. We wanted to sit in the dark living room and appreciate the warm light of our branches and holiday trees. We’d spent the evening wrapping “happy lights” around e.e., this year’s christmas tree, adorning her with silver balls of all sizes.

Our trees are rarely traditional. In fact, we almost never choose them; they usually find us. The story of the tree – and I use the term “tree” loosely – is more important than the shape of the tree. We’re not invested in the traditional aesthetic. For us, it’s not a show piece. Our tradition is firmly rooted in the story of how the “tree” finds us. Orphans come in from the cold.

We sat in e.e.’s light and combed through Kerri’s phone looking for the images-of-christmas-trees-past. We laughed when we found photos of them. We recounted the story of each, placing them in time, comparing notes of how they found us. There was “christmas tree on a stick.” There was the year of the stick wrapped in lights, a star suspended above it. There was Satan, the evil tree that Craig wrought. This year is our tenth christmas and our stroll through the trees became a stroll through our time together. “We look like babies,” Kerri said of the younger versions of us, the two people, arms intertwined, standing by a tree almost a decade ago.

When e.e. came to us, she was anemic. Scraggly. We loved on her. Opened her branches and fluffed her. Last night, after our walk through time, Kerri looked at e.e. and said, “She looks so happy.” Yes. She does. Beaming.

And isn’t that the point of the whole season? A little fluffing. Taking some time to pay attention. To love on each other. To infuse new life into depleted spirits? As we weave e.e. into our story, her happiness injects warm happiness back into us. And will for years to come. Our spontaneous story moments always remind me of the essential things sometimes lost in the season of commodity and cacophony called christmas. It’s really not so complicated.

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about e.e

the lights/the lights © 1996 kerri sherwood

Filed under: KS Friday, Love, Metaphor, Story | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Catch The Glimmer [on KS Friday]

Posted on December 17, 2021 by davidrobinsoncreative

Barney, the piano that lives in our backyard, nearly had a chandelier suspended above his lid. We thought it would be funny to look out back at night and see Barney all-gussied-up.

We’re not really chandelier people but you’d be amazed at how many pieces of chandelier, separate crystal ornaments, live around our house. It’s as if a chandelier came to visit, had an unfortunate explosion, and the falling pieces conveniently landed near windows or light sources so they might catch and reflect the light. We like the glimmer yet are more subtle than a chandelier.

We finally decided on this year’s christmas tree. In our time together we’ve only had one traditional-looking-tree. Craig forced it on us. He was driving the day we went to the farm to cut a tree and threatened to leave us in the snow if we brought home our first choice. It was…unique. He had his heart set on a scotch pine so we brought it home and named it Satan. That tree had seriously sharp needles and a very bad attitude. On the 26th of December we lassoed Satan, drug him out of the house and down the street, through the snow, to the tree drop-off spot. For months afterward, his needles would jump out of hiding and stick our toes.

This year, our tree is large branch whacked from the aging maple tree by the heavy machinery that dug the moat in our front yard. Kerri saved it from the mulcher. I’m not sure how we got it in the house but we did. DogDog hid in the bedroom during the transition. His courage failed him, as it does when we vacuum or drop a cooking pot, when he saw the monster-branch entering through the front door.

We love our tree. It is, like us, simple and proud in its history. It carries stories. Long ago our children sat on this branch. It shaded Kerri and me the weekend we met and laughed tossing a frisbee in the street. It waved the evening we danced in the front yard. Now, it stands in the house, near the window, wearing a strand of white lights and holding a single ornament. A tin star.

We think it looks happy to be here. We’re certainly happy that it’s here. A different kind of tree. A glimmer, reflecting the many, many years of memories, the symbol of our year of water, and destruction transformed into beauty. What, for us, in this year and this season, could be more appropriate?

read Kerri’s blog post about GLIMMER

kerri’s albums are available on iTunes or streaming on Pandora

the lights/the lights: a christmas album © 1996 kerri sherwood

Filed under: Family, Gratitude, KS Friday, Metaphor, Story | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment »

Follow The Lights [on KS Friday]

Posted on December 18, 2020 by davidrobinsoncreative

Before moving to Wisconsin I had no holiday tradition. Being “not religious,” my celebrations were more spontaneous and improvisational than rooted in any specific custom or expectation. Dinners with friends. One year I baked bread with strangers. One year I took a boat to an island because there was a hot springs by the beach. One year, because I was alone and life was crumbling all around me, I scheduled for myself 30 coaching calls; that was the most memorable and profound holiday season of my life. I helped people. I met Kerri.

Since moving to Wisconsin my holiday tradition has been to help Kerri create choir performances for services. When I suggest that I helped, I mean I carried stuff, set up chairs, pushed pianos, moved bells into the choir loft, set up microphones, hauled big bowls of sand for candles. I am part Sherpa. It has been the busiest and zaniest time of the year. After playing the late night Christmas Eve service – the last of many running through the week, we come home, and with our neighbors, light luminaria up and down the street, pull two fire pits onto the driveway and stoke them for warmth. We open bottles of wine and place on a table bowls of snacks. People come and, huddled around the fire, we talk and laugh until the cold wee-hours of the morning.

This year, with the loss of jobs and collapse of community, with the pandemic spiking, our traditions are erased. For me, this feels like familiar territory. For Kerri, it is a profound loss and is disorienting. She had a full-on-old-fashioned-melt-down a few nights ago after cutting her finger on a broken wine glass. “It’s too much…” she sobbed. I couldn’t help but feel as she wept that I/We have walked a full-circle. Eight years later, life is again crumbling all around me/us. This could be the most memorable and profound holiday season of our lives. I didn’t offer my thoughts. I have learned in moments of crisis that silence is often more helpful than platitudes of encouragement. I am slow but sometimes I get there.

Leo had a Christmas tradition that I admired. He gave everyone in his circle an orange and a few walnuts. He grew up very poor and, as a child, those were the gifts he received. It was the most and best gifts that his parents could give. Throughout his long and successful life, he gave them to remind himself – and those he loved – that the holiday was not about the stuff. It was about the people who stand in the circle with you, the people who stand in the fire with you. The people who you love, who give all that they have: their hearts. An orange. A few walnuts. Big, big love.

This year, those people will stand virtually with us and we with them. The hot fire of this year has burned away the superficial. The recognizable patterns have all but disappeared. Yet, the essentials remain. The essential few remain. Deeply rooted. Deeply felt.

The cycle of life, the cycle of The Lights in Kerri’s song, reminds us of all that really matters. New life, linking back. Ancient hearts beating in our breasts. Full of light. Full of big, big love.

Kerri’s albums – including the lights – are available on iTunes

read Kerri’s blog post about THE LIGHTS

Share Fatherhood (morsel), prints and more available on society6.com

the lights ©️ 1996 kerri sherwood

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

Feel The Light [on KS Friday]

Posted on December 21, 2018 by davidrobinsoncreative

THE LIGHTS song box copy

Dang! My wife, the solo pianist and composer, sings a mean country song complete with mandolin and fiddle! She is, in her heart of hearts, a country music girl. She tells stories and puts them to music (all of her solo piano compositions are great bits of storytelling and if you are ever fortunate enough to attend one of her concerts she will most certainly tell them to you).

Take a peek into her notebooks of unrecorded pieces and you will find songs with a country heart and narrative soul, tales of love lost and found, messages on the wind, broken roads and redemption. Horses and mountain fields and old trucks and yearning for a simpler time. Mandolins everywhere are dying for her to sing these songs! I know I would be if I was a mandolin!

THE LIGHTS is a sweet taste of country music Christmas storytelling. It’s a mother’s tale. A song that is in love with life, and will, in this season of hustle and bustle and stress, weave a bit of warmth around your heart.

THE LIGHTS on the album THE LIGHTS: A CHRISTMAS ALBUM is available on iTunes & CDBaby. Limited hard copies are available here.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about THE LIGHTS

 

warm springs ranch statue website copy

 

the lights/the lights ©️ 1996 kerri sherwood

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

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