The Language of Flowers [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on July 15, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

“In the language of flowers, the bluebell is a symbol of humility, constancy, gratitude and everlasting love. It is said that if you turn a bluebell flower inside-out without tearing it, you will win the one you love, and if you wear a wreath of bluebells you will only be able to speak the truth.” ~ Woodland Trust

Recently I much prefer the language of flowers to the language of people.

Flowers call to Kerri. “Stop! Take my picture!” So she does. I do not hear the voice of the flower but I do hear Kerri’s, “Ohhhhhh!”

When we walk the neighborhood en route to the lake we pass a house that at first glance seems overrun with flora. It is a butterfly garden. Intentionally cultivated, aesthetically chaotic and beautiful. It also encourages bees. It’s the place where Kerri heard the bluebells beckon and I heard, “Ohhhhh! Bluebells!” We stopped for an extended photo shoot. The posing bluebells wanted to make sure that Kerri captured their best side.

This morning she asked me to read something that she found disturbing. “If I have it in my mind then you have to have it in your mind, too.” It was layer upon layer of maga conspiracy theory; fearmongering deep state paranoia. At the center of it all was a dedicated victimhood. “THEY are out to get US.” The libs, the woke, the dems, blah, blah, blah, fido, fact-free, dark-mind, nonsense. The language of sad-angry-deluded-people swirled around in my mind so I walked out the backdoor to visit the day lilies. They are beginning to bloom and I love them. Vibrant orange. A few are the color of red wine. I said, “Talk to me.”

They must have said, “Go get Kerri,” because at that moment she came out the backdoor.

“Will you ask the day lilies if I should send bluebells to Washington, DC?” I asked. “They won’t talk to me.”

“What?” she wrinkled her brow.

I quoted: “…wear a wreath of bluebells you will only be able to speak the truth.”

“Ohhhh!” she said, looking over my shoulder, no longer listening to me. “I have to get my camera!” She disappeared into the house. She must have heard the day lilies because they began to primp for their photo shoot. Beauty unabashedly celebrating itself.

“Yes,” I thought, as the photo shoot commenced, “I very much prefer the language of flowers”.

read Kerri’s blogpost about BLUEBELLS

www.kerrianddavid.com

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Active Gratitude [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on July 14, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

I think we have it all wrong and that’s why we are now in trouble. Even in the dictionary this word, “community” gets an antiseptic scrubbing. Community is so much more than “people living in the same place,” or “people having a particular characteristic in common”. It is so much more than “a feeling of fellowship,” or “sharing common interests, attitudes, and goals.” All of those aspects are certainly important but they are superficial.

These definitions omit the soul of the communal body.

I found a startlingly simple yet profound definition of community in Martíin Prechtel’s book, Long Life, Honey In The Heart. I discovered my definition of community in his definition of “adulthood”. In his village, adulthood is not something that just happens. Adulthood is not simply a product of aging. It is not a legal definition. It is something that is learned and earned. One is not considered an adult until they embody and live each day from a real-to-the-bone understanding of mutual indebtedness.

Mutual indebtedness. People who are accountable to and for each other. People who are responsible for the well-being of their neighbors. People who know without doubt that their neighbors are accountable to them and responsible for their well-being. Reciprocal generosity.

No one walks this path alone. No one is truly independent. Everyone is reliant upon the gifts, skills and labor of others. Take a walk through a grocery store and try to try to grok how many people, how much labor and love it took to get the potatoes to the shelf. Or, if that’s too abstract, consider how many people were involved in the making of the screen you are presently using; how many generations of thought and imagination, how many hours and hours of someone else’s labor did it take for you to scroll and click? How many people all over the world did it take to mine the minerals and make the chips and manufacture and assemble the components and ship the unit across seas and over roads before you powered on and individualized your device?

Are we or are we not denying responsibility for the well-being of the people who each and everyday serve our needs? Or, as I fear, as is apparent in our current hubris, are we so deluded that we think we can exploit the lives and labor of others without the inevitable blow-back and ultimate societal collapse that “every man for himself” necessitates?

Bullies occupy playgrounds and make deals using big sticks – evidence of a childish mind. Adolescence is self-serving and simplistic.

Our current republican government’s dedicated enemy-creation and fact-free-demonization of others is the antithesis of community. It is, in fact, the intentional destruction of community.

Adulthood comes with the dawning recognition of interdependence. Mutual indebtedness. Responsibility to and for others. Labor as service. Governance as service. Artistry as service. Life as service. As the Beatles sang it, “The love you take is equal to the love you make.”

Community is an action, a verb and not a noun. It is a practice rooted in service to others. It is the adult recognition that a better world for me is only possible when I dedicate myself to the betterment of others. Well-being is a shared intention, something we owe to each other. I eat the food you grow and pick. You use the technology that I develop. We enjoy the fruits of each other’s labor. We survive and thrive because of the efforts of others. We are indebted to each other.

The soul of community is active gratitude.

“Indeed, I don’t believe you can practice love and be in community with folks without an incorporation of accountability as an ethic and a practice.” ~ Tarana Burke, Unbound

read Kerri’s blogpost about ACCOUNTABILITY

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Awareness Is Not Action [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Posted on July 12, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

In chaos there is pattern. This is the pattern emerging amidst our national chaos: people are dying in floods because early warning systems were interrupted by “waste, fraud, and abuse” cuts to the National Weather Service. People all over the world are dying due to the shuttering of USAID. People are losing their social safety net and public services to afford tax cuts for the morbidly wealthy; it’s estimated that over 50,000 citizens each year will die unnecessarily due to loss of their health care and access to services. People are being plucked off the streets and out of their homes by masked government agents and being “disappeared”.

The pattern in the chaos: ordinary people are suffering and dying, sacrificed on the altar of financial gain. Apparently the common person is counted among the waste to be cut. Certainly, it’s clear that the everyday person on the street is seen as a resource to be exploited, used and discarded. Republican Joni Ernst in a contentious town hall told her constituents protesting cuts to MEDICAID that, “We are all going to die.”

Consider this: The children were swept away in a flood that surprised them because the early warning system broke down due to staffing cuts. There was no one staffing the office necessary to pass on the evacuation warnings. The director of the DHS couldn’t be bothered to sign off on an emergency response for over 72 hours after the flooding began. She was too busy posing for the camera.

Indignation is useful fuel but can only carry us so far. As Kara Swisher asked in a recent podcast, “Would you rather be right or effective?” Yes, we are right to be indignant about the lies, the gaslighting, the fraud, the corruption, the grift, the incompetence, the brutality, the immorality, the hubris…

And, as we watch our democracy swirl around the drain, it is obvious that we are not-at-all being effective in our response. Words to myself and to you: perhaps it is time to rethink our ranting and raising-awareness about how wrong this is. That certainly feels good to share in the indignation. It certainly feels like we’re doing something. A lesson I learned early in my consulting life: raising awareness is not action. It’s a step toward action. If raising awareness was action, gun violence would not be the leading cause of death of children in the USA.

If the republican’s BBB is any indication, we are not being effective at all because our actions are limited to awareness raising: we call representatives who no longer listen; we march in order to send a message to representatives who no longer care. The polls have the tyrant and his party in the basement and they do not seem concerned at all. We raise awareness within our social media bubbles with people who are already abundantly aware how wrong this is.

Calls to representatives. Marches and civil unrest. Polls. If you are hearing what I am hearing, then we have to realize that this is a whole new ballgame. They are playing as if our votes – our voices – no longer matter. We are assuming that our votes will eventually correct the course. The clear message that we need to grok is made obvious in the pattern: To them we are waste to be cut, an unnecessary obstacle on the road to their gluttony. We can protest all we want. They are aware. They do not care since democracy is not in their plan.

It’s way past time to be effective. Our right to vote, our representative government, is being auctioned off to the highest bidder. What actions – beyond awareness-raising – will effectively save our democracy from a leadership so bloated and corrupt that it cannot be bothered to care or to listen?

read Kerri’s blogpost about PATHETIC

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Weeding Revelations [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on July 11, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

“We are exploring together. We are cultivating a garden together, backs to the sun. The question is a hoe in our hands and we are digging beneath the hard and crusty surface to the rich humus of our lives.” ~ Parker J. Palmer, Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation

I can’t believe I am writing this. The truth is that I enjoy weeding. While Kerri tends to the herbs on the potting bench, I pull weeds from the cracks between the patio stones. I am sometimes shocked at the satisfaction I feel when the deep root emerges with the stem. “Nice!” I exclaim to myself, dropping it into my plastic bucket.

It has not always been true that I enjoy weeding. Initially, it used to feel like a fool’s errand, an unwinnable war. Each new day would reveal new weeds – more weeds – overtaking my gains from the day before. Redoubling my weed-pulling-efforts seemed to produce the opposite of my intention: more and more weeds.

In retrospect I realize that I came to home ownership later in life and my weed wars were waged when I was relatively new to the job. I wanted to impress my new wife with my manly yard maintenance prowess. I’d mowed thousands of lawns in my life and all of them belonged to other people. This yard, our yard, did not yet feel like mine. I was in denial that I actually had a yard to tend.

I also had an Aussie dog whose sole mission in his young life was to carve multiple velodromes through the grass in his gleeful running of circles. And, as it turns out, Aussie pups, when overheated by running circles, dig deep holes in the earth to reach cool soil that they can lay on it. The backyard destruction was total and provided every gleeful weed known to humanity a perfect opportunity to sprout with unbridled enthusiasm. So they did.

I do not know when the crossover happened. I do not know when I surrendered the fight. I don’t imagine it happened all at once. There was no grand epiphany, no lightning bolt of illumination. Over time the war turned into a game and then the game turned into a meditation. One day, I walked into the backyard to quiet my mind and began to weed – and realized what I was doing. “Good for the heart. Good for the soul.” Brother Patrick’s words of so long ago came to mind. Never in my life did I think I would have a yard. Never in a thousand years did I imagine I’d love to quiet my mind by weeding. My wandering soul giggled at the revelation.

It’s been that way ever since.

“I don’t like weeding as much as you do,” she said, pruning the mint and tending the peppers. The potting bench is her happy place.

“I know,” I said, pulling a clump of crabgrass. It came out, roots and all “Nice,” I said aloud. Our old Aussie left his cool soil perch and came to investigate.

“What?” she asked.

“Our yard,” I said. “It’s so nice.”

PULLING WEEDS on the album RIGHT NOW © 2010 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE POTTING BENCH

www.kerrianddavid.com

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Our Natural Tendency [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on July 10, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

This sedum is a volunteer. It somehow took root beneath the deck and yet has found a way to reach the sun. It’s funny. Each day I check on this little plant because its resilience gives me some small measure of hope: good things can take root in dark places and through natural tenacity, find a way to the light.

When I step back from our national horror story and take in the whole picture, I am overwhelmed at the abundance of light. People showing up for other people. People expressing outrage at the treatment of others. The shadow spaces are small in comparison.

In this way people are no different than plants. Our tendency – our need – is to seek and find the light and the light is found in the community and what it values. A community can only stay in the dark for so long before it – like a plant – begins to perish.

“They have no respect for human life,” she said, showing me the latest video of an ICE arrest. And then came her list of disrespect: “Decimating USAID, cuts to Medicaid and SNAP…” It was a very, very long list.

I responded, “They have no respect for others because they have no respect for themselves.” It would be impossible to vote for that Big Bloated Bill and be able to look at yourself in the mirror.

They crawl into dark places to flee the light. The assault on the free press. The prevention of congressional oversight – and the nation – from seeing into their “deportation detention centers”. The restrictions (elimination) of due process and habeas corpus…This, too, is a very, very long list. Dark hearts creating dark places.

Here’s the thing: in dark places people lose track of where they are. Disoriented, they also lose track of where others are. In panic, they lose track of how important others are. They become physically, mentally and morally confused. They default into “every man for himself”. In survival-mode, people push others underwater in an attempt to elevate themselves. In the end, all drown.

In the dark we lose track of who we are because we can only know ourselves in relationship to others. Societies collapse in shadowy amorality and the dim fantasy land of every-man-for-himself (obviously).

It is the way of fascist regimes to drag the people of their nation into the dark. Our current leadership in these un-United States is following the Nazi playbook exactly. To perpetuate their dark intention they need to manufacture enemies; the trail of enemy creation will eventually lead back to themselves. They will eventually have to eat each other in their dog-eat-dog fascism. Even though it doesn’t look like it at this moment in time, dragging us into the dark will bring them to perish in an inky bunker.

Like the sedum rooted beneath the deck, it is our natural tendency is to reach for the light.

The only real question that remains is how much dark-malfeasance will we tolerate before we-as-a-nation say, “Enough,” break free and turn toward the light?

And, if we make it, if we survive this dark time and stumble back into the sun, I hope we will have the courage to look at what the light reveals to us – about us. I hope we have the capacity to see fully the totality of our history – all of it. I hope we are capable of asking why so many of us drank from a fox-fire hose of lies and so willingly embraced fantastic falsehoods. I hope we might once and for all align our actions with our rhetoric and put to rest the ugly idea that We-The-People only applies to a privileged few, but applies equally to all of us – a wildly diverse community dedicated to keeping the experiment of democracy vibrant and in the light.

Face the Sun, 18″x24″ mixed media

read Kerri’s blogpost about SEDUM

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Bolt! [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on July 9, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

“The caterpillar ate the dill,” she said. I laughed. It sounded like the first line in a children’s book. “No matter,” she said as she watched the caterpillar munching, “With all this rain and heat the dill has already bolted.” I raised my eyebrows. Not being up on my garden lingo, “the dill bolted” also sounded like the first line in a children’s book: the dill sprinted from the garden bench!

I thought but did not say: “I’d bolt from the room, too, if I discovered a caterpillar was gnawing on me.” Kerri puts up with enough of my random-mind-wander as it is. I’ve learned to keep some of it to myself.

Though, in my silence, I wished I’d had a pencil and paper to jot down the ideas but my hands were covered in mud. With the recent heat and rain, the weeds were eating the yard (I know! I know! Another great first line for a children’s book!) and I was waging a fruitless campaign to hold back the onslaught. No matter. Ideas come and go. I’ve let plenty of good ideas – and bad ones, too – slip by unrecorded. My muddy hands probably saved me from myself.

It’s worth mentioning that one of the many definitions of “bolt” is to “eat quickly.” To gobble or gulp. Watching the caterpillar eat I think it’s fair to suggest that it was bolting. Essentially the caterpillar and the dill both bolted and neither of them left the yard. It was a reminder to never assume to understand a single word someone else utters. Kerri might have meant that the dill was gulping rather than what I presupposed, that the dill was now dormant. I confess to looking up from my weeding to make sure that the dill was still in the pot and that the pot was on the bench.

Someday soon the bolting caterpillar will possibly fly through the yard as a Black Swallowtail butterfly. It quite literally will have bolted from one way of being into another way of being. Do not assume that you know what I mean. After all, I used the word “bolt” with clear intent to scramble the possibilities.

On the day we see the butterfly I will say to Kerri, “Hey! Look at what your dill produced!” She will give me “that” look and I will, of course, have no alternative but to make-like-dill and bolt.

read Kerri’s blogpost about CATERPILLARS

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Mint And Magic [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on July 8, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

In folklore, garlic is supposed to ward off evil spirits and, according to Bram Stoker, it is especially useful at repelling vampires. I imagine that the protective properties dissolve once the garlic is sauteed with onions: evil spirits and vampires alike could not possibly be repelled by the intoxicating aroma of garlic and onions.

According to some traditions, mint, in addition to fostering tranquility, also has protective properties. Instead of vampires, mint defends against “negative energies and entities”. Since we in these un-United States are awash in negative energy and ill-intended entities, I am comforted that in our herb garden the mint is exploding out of its pot.

I suppose it is a silver lining to climate change that our summers are hotter and more humid which seems to be a super-steroid for mint growth. I’m considering planting a moat of mint around our house. I’m considering sending mint to all the people I love. It seems increasingly likely that they – and we – will need to fortify ourselves against the rising tide of negative energies and the entities that the republicans recently funded. I am considering wearing a necklace of garlic to ward off Stephen Miller and Russell Vought – the first legitimate vampires I’ve witnessed. Apparently Bram Stoker wasn’t just fictionalizing things.

In magic traditions mint has healing properties and is especially useful in enhancing mental clarity and sharpening focus. It is a calming agent. For these reasons I am pondering the virtues of sending mint to maga. Hey! That’s a catchy phrase for a campaign! Mint-To-Maga. Has there ever been a group of people in the history of humanity that was in greater need of mental clarity and calming down? That would require more mint than currently spills out of our pot but in the recent decimation of green energy in favor of fossil fuels, climate change is guaranteed to roar ahead unimpeded so my sudden mint production need has an unintended boost. After my mint moat is planted I’ll start looking for a farm.

I should have sent them mint before the election. I should have known this administration would suck the life-blood from the very people who voted them into power. Well, I did know but confess that I thought it would take longer to execute. Negative entities move faster than I knew. And, now that I think about it, I should have sent garlic prior to the election though I doubt it would have done any good. Maga seems hellbent on giving their blood to the Nosferatu. By now you’d think they’d have realized that they are being fed a steady diet of red herring and are, themselves, the primary food source of the Project 2025 vampires.

Fattened as they are on lies and gleefully cheering their own demise, I doubt that any amount of garlic can now protect them. It could possibly take a mountain of mint and more than a little bit of magic to calm them enough to reclaim a modicum of mental clarity – but I think it is still worth a last-ditch effort. My Spine-for-Congress campaign was a complete failure and now that their Mega-Murder-Bill is unleashed and aimed directly at the red states – and the rest of us, Mint-for-Maga just might help the red-hat-crew open their eyes before the negative energies suck them – and the rest of us – dry.

read Kerri’s blogpost about MINT

www.kerrianddavid.com

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Reach For What Is Good [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on July 7, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

Inundated as we are in the political darkness, we made an effort to steep our minds and hearts in the positive and seek the affirmation of the light. So, we went to the arts. We spent a few minutes with James Taylor’s Shower The People (listen through to the end when Arnold McCuller sings a back-up vocal that will make you smile-weep) and we bumbled into a duet of You Can Close Your Eyes that James Taylor sings with his son Henry. Heart opening.

I spent some time reading and rereading Horatio’s latest poem, The Real Work. It’s brilliant and a reminder to seek what we love every single day of our time on this earth. His poem was good medicine for what has recently ailed me.

“Never, never, never give up.” These words by Winston Churchill hang in Kerri’s studio. We’ve both been witness to too many gifted artists give up, lay down their brushes, close the lid on their piano, step off the stage. An artist’s life can be a very hard road so a reminder taped to the wall is sometimes the only thing that brings you back to the studio the next day. Never give up.

These days the quote rings loud-and-true with the meaning it was originally intended to carry. The quote is a shortened version of what Churchill said in a speech in 1941 as Britain stood its ground against the Nazis. Today, everyday Americans stand their ground against the attempted fascist takeover of our democracy. As Kerri said last week on the trail, “It’s like a depraved checkmate.” The supreme court, the republican congress, the department of justice…are all in the pocket of the tyrant-wannabe. Loyalty to the man has overtaken loyalty to the Constitution. The last line of defense is a citizenry who refuses to give up on democracy.

Anne Lamott wrote a piece for the Washington Post on the 4th of July. It provided her reasons to celebrate in this time of national shame. “This Friday, my friends and I will celebrate the land that embraces political marches and rallies, the ones so far and those still to come. This is “We the people,” and that is the ultimate and most profound aspect of America. We are going to keep showing up and talking about what needs to be done and what is possible right now.”

The power of the people is the power of the imagination. The power of the arts is to access the heart and ignite the power of the imagination. What we’ve witnessed these many months is an assault on the imagination of democracy, a lie-pact of the mean-spirited and dimwitted, those who lack the courage and conviction – and imagination – of “We the people”.

As we keep showing up and showing up and showing up it is vital to fill our heart-tanks with the words of writers like Anne Lamott, the heart-opening music of musicians like James Taylor and Bruce Springsteen…to intentionally and regularly drink from the sources of light that fire the imagination and help us do more than resist the dark but reach for what is good and right and possible.

read Kerri’s blogpost about NEVER GIVE UP

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“Too Bad, So Sad.” [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Posted on July 5, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

It turns out that the thing that makes capitalism viable is the same thing that makes a democracy healthy: a strong middle class. A stable consumer base is the essential ingredient for social cohesion and constructive civic engagement. It’s Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs: when people are secure in their basic needs they turn their attention to meeting the needs of the community – things like equal rights, education and affordable healthcare; they ask, “What is my purpose?” and “How can I help make the world a better place?”

I’ve long believed that the greatest challenge to our democracy is that one of our political parties – the republicans – simply do not believe in it. The Reagan revolution might as easily be called The Great Erosion of the Middle Class. In the past forty years 50 trillion dollars have moved into the pockets of the top 1%. What was branded as trickle down economics has proven to be – just as economists foretold – pick-pocket economics. If we’ve ever needed proof of the republican’s repudiation of democracy we see it manifest in their Mega-Murder-Bill.

Democracies need a strong middle class. Authoritarian states need to keep their populace poor. They need to eliminate the middle class. That, too, is Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs: when people are trapped in survival-mode, insecure and daily struggling for their basic needs, they cannot focus on making the world a better, safer place. They ask, “How am I going to live another day?” Poverty is an authoritarian’s greatest tool for maintaining their grip on power.

In my lifetime I’ve seen firefighters run into The Twin Towers, an indelible act of courage. Now, I’ve seen an entire political party tuck their tails and vote to rob their constituents to enrich the top 1%* – an extraordinary act of cowardice. A permanent stain. It’s as if the NYC firefighters on September 11 had walked away from the burning buildings, saying, “Too bad, so sad,” and patted each other on the back for a job well done.

Cowardice. Unless, of course, their actual aim is authoritarianism. Then, the systematic decimation of the middle class and callous assault on the social safety net makes perfect sense. It is the ultimate fulfillment of the republican revolution against democracy.**

*They passed their Mega-Murder-Bill. This egregious betrayal of their constituents will most certainly haunt them in the next election. The threat of being “primaried” if they voted against the bill presented, at best, a conundrum, since both paths lead to the loss of their seat. The only possible way that their choice of constituent-betrayal makes sense is if they believe that they will never have to run in another election: in the face of such extreme cowardice, the suspension of free and fair elections cannot be far behind.

**To be fair, they might actually believe in democracy – but just not for everyone. When they read, “All men are created equal” they very likely understand that ideal to only include wealthy white men who claim to be Christian while ignoring all of its precepts. No matter, a wealthy ruling class rigging the system and exploiting the labor that makes their bloated-money-hoard possible is authoritarianism regardless of the label they paste on their back-slapping boy’s club.

read Kerri’s blogpost about COWARDICE

smack-dab © 2025 kerrianddavid.com

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That Is Everything [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on July 4, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

On these unseasonably hot summer days, Dogga can be found lounging by the air conditioner. Surrounded by his favorite toys, snowman, candy cane, baby, bone and red, he basks in the artificial arctic breeze. He is, by nature, a snow dog. Winter is his preferred season, snow is his favorite couch.

Today, the 4th of July, is his twelfth birthday. We can hardly believe it since it seems like only yesterday that, while watching the Dog Dock Jump at the local 4th festivities, we talked of someday having a dog. In our telling of the story – we are artists, after all – Dogga was born at the exact moment that we were dreaming of him. I had not yet moved to the Midwest: three months later, driving the Budget truck across the country, loaded with all my worldly possessions (paintings, an easel and a chair), we saw a sign for “Aussie Pups” and, promising that we’d only pet the puppies, we stopped.

Dogga and I moved into our new home at the same time.

We’ve grown grey beards together. Neither one of us runs as fast or tolerates the heat like we used to. He enjoys standing in the middle of the backyard barking in the four directions just to see if anyone barks in reply. I sometimes feel like this blog is my version of doing the same thing.

He has grown to fear loud noises, thunder and fireworks, so we stay close-by on his birthday, on the 4th of July. And, truth be told, hanging with Dogga is more fun than watching the Dog Dock Jump or the Pie Eating Contest or cooing at the fireworks with the crowd. His enthusiasm is infectious. His bright eyes and open face, his unbridled joy, remind me of the good things in the world. His agenda is not hidden: it is loving us.

He is our reason to celebrate – simple, pure and honest – at a time that a dark shadow clouds our nation’s celebration, a time when almost nothing is simple, pure or honest.

Our agenda is loving him – on his birthday and everyday. That is all. That is everything.

DIVINE INTERVENTION 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 DOGGA

www.kerrianddavid.com

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