The Wander Women | The Direction of Intention

Hold Space [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on December 2, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

“We are not the sum total of the tiny constituent parts that compose us — we are only ever-shifting and regenerating parts operating under the illusion of a sum we call a self.” Maria Popova, The Marginalian, November 26, 2025

We moved the big tree-sized branch from our living room to the deck outside. It had been a fixture in our house, covered with lights all year – with decorations added during the holidays, since 2021. It is now affixed to the deck and is once again wrapped in lights, set to a timer to pop on at sunset. The branch comes from the tree out front, the tree our children climbed when they were kids. It was snapped off the tree by the giant backhoe ripping up our yard to fix the water main when it burst. Kerri ran into the devastation and rescued the branch from certain destruction, keeping safe this small memory thread to the past.

Over the years the branch grew brittle as the memory thread strengthened and grew secure inside of Kerri. It was time to open up the space in our house and allow “the new” to enter.

I smiled when, after moving the tree-sized-branch onto the deck, she found and brought in a small pine branch. “Doesn’t it remind you of Ditch?” she asked? Ditch was a tiny pine-tree-sprout that we rescued and brought home from Colorado. Ditch traveled in a little cup and lasted a single season in the house but did not survive the transplanting into our backyard. It came from a significant trail, a place of profound experiences and life-changing conversations, that we hike when in Colorado: the Ditch Trail. Ditch, like the big branch, was a memory thread.

The little branch stands tall in a glass vase, sitting on the cafe table in our sun room. We sit there everyday, usually at sunset. It’s the place where we pause and review the happenings of each day. We are in a period of time that the Wander Women aptly named, “a wait-and-see” phase. Things are changing while we are still. We are like the newly opened space in the living room, we are inviting “the new” to enter. Even though we have no idea what that means, what it looks like, or even what we want to fill the available space, we know enough to make the space and to sit in it.

This little branch is also a thread to the future. It’s the invitation, the reminder of a recognition we once had on the Ditch Trail. Do not race through this moment, no matter how nebulous it seems. It’s like being lost in the woods and, rather than panic, sit down and enjoy the experience of being lost, knowing that it will pass. Hold space for what is precious, right here and now.

read Kerri’s blogpost about the BRANCH

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Filed under: Possibility, Story, Two Artists Tuesday | Tagged: artistry, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, future, here and now, hold space, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, memory, presence, story, studio melange, the melange, The Wander Women, wait and see | 1 Comment »

Sail At It [on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on January 2, 2023 by davidrobinsoncreative

Kerri said it best: I can’t believe we are back in this place again.

I’ve been rolling this quote through my mind each day as I enter the job-hunt. I remember Tom telling me that he’d crossed a magic line and the world perceived him as “old.” He desperately wanted to direct more plays but his vast experience wore grey hair and a chiseled face. Even former students turned the other way when he called. Eventually he stopped believing the opportunity was out there. He made his peace with retirement on the ranch. He settled into a quiet life and a quiet life settled into him.

As I stare at job listings I dream of wealthy patrons knocking at my door or a fast-track Patreon membership that floats my/our artistic boat into new and exciting explorations. There are paintings in the stacks that are gorgeous and worthy. I fantasize that a syndicate will want Smack-dab or a publisher will ride over the horizon with a book deal. I know that Kerri has more music to play and record. I am not imagining that.

Tom’s reflection is poignant because he felt he was, after a lifetime of experience, coming into his most potent artistic years. I feel that now. I am now the age he was when he uttered his disbelief at crossing the magic line. It’s taken a long time to recognize the worth of my doubt, the power in my perseverance stepping into the unknown. There’s potent artistry in here. As the Wander Women said best, “We might have 20 summers left and want to be intentional in how we spend them.” Yes. How to best dedicate and experience the time? This day?

I believe the opportunity is out there. I wear a grey beard and, as my niece said, a weathered face. But, beneath the wear-and-tear, my heart is young and my tank is full. I am foolish enough or naive enough to imagine. To dream. To point my intention toward the edge of the earth. To believe opportunity is serendipitous as well as something created.

read Kerri’s blogpost about OPPORTUNITY

Filed under: Art, Business, Creativity, DR Thursday, Possibility | Tagged: age, artistry, belief, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, experience, heart, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, opportunity, perseverance, quiet life, retirement, Ricko DeWilde, serendipity, story, studio melange, the melange, The Wander Women, Wander women | Leave a comment »

Say Uff Da [on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on April 20, 2022 by davidrobinsoncreative

I never met Kerri’s dad. He passed before I came into the picture. I feel as though I know him. When a nasty bit of home repair is staring me down, I often ask his advice. “What should I do with this one, Pa?” I ask. Generally, he crosses his arms in quiet consideration and mutters, “Uff da.” And soon a solution comes to mind.

Hanging beside our back door is a bamboo wind chime. It was Pa’s. Sometimes when we open the back door it voices and I respond with a hearty, “Good morning, Pa.”

His nickname for Kerri was “brat.” I know exactly why Pa gave her that nickname. Let’s just say she earned it and, to be clear, has never outgrown it. 20 often looks at me in desperation and says, “She’s torturing me!” He wants me to intervene, to come to his rescue. I know better. Kerri laughs. So does Pa. We love the brat even if we are the recipients of her mischief.

Earlier this year I lost my dad. Yesterday while on the trail, I confessed that I was overwhelmed with a wave of missing him. “Cycles of grief,” as the Wander Women say. Growing older is filled with cycles of grief and I had cycled in. I sighed. Kerri squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“This sucks,” I thought.

“Uff da,” Pa said.

read Kerri’s blogpost about UFF DA

Filed under: Family, Flawed Wednesday, Gratitude, Language, Love | Tagged: artistry, brat, cycles of grief, david robinson, davidrobinsoncreative.com, family, grief, growing older, Kerri Sherwood, kerri sherwood itunes, kerrianddavid.com, kerrisherwood.com, loss, mischief, story, studio melange, the melange, The Wander Women, Uff Da | Leave a comment »

Walk As WaWo [on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on August 31, 2021 by davidrobinsoncreative

It was past 3am when Kerri asked me if I wanted to “watch a trail.” We were wide awake. The air was hot and still. We’d recently stumbled upon The Wander Women: Kristy, Annette, and Lynn, woman our age, walking the PCT. They’re doing a flip flop, having started their hike in the middle of the 2600 mile trail and walking to Canada, then, they’ll return to the center point and walk the distance to Mexico. We watched the installment, posted this week, as they reached the Canadian border.

Still wide awake, we went to their channel and listened as they answered questions about their hike of the Appalachian Trail. They are sirens of the possible, guides of give-it-a-try. They are not hikers who pound out miles to reach a goal. As Kristy said, “We want to enjoy every single moment.” Their yoga is a matter-of-fact-presence. They plan and improvise; both/and.

We’ve listened to more than one Q&A with the Wander Women. In an answer to their follower’s questions about living full time in an RV and life on the trail, Annette responded, “Home is where we put up our tent. You carry home inside yourself.” It was the answer of someone who’d transcended their stuff. It was the response of someone who’d internalized her security.

We couldn’t plug our windows with air conditioners this summer. We had too much of isolation last year. We needed to hear the birdsong and feel the summer air. We knew that would bring uncomfortable days, humid and hot nights. We have always walked our neighborhood and the local trails, but our decision to feel-the-summer pulled us more out-of-doors than usual. We extended the sanctuary of our sunroom out onto the deck. We placed torches along the patio and fixed the lights around the pond.

Each evening, after our work is done, we sit outside in our ever-expanding sanctuary. We listen to the cicadas. The cardinals and the chipmunks vie for a place at the bird feeder. Sitting at our table I had a mini-revelation about why I was so enjoying The Wander Women and following the few couples also out on the trail and posting weekly updates. They talk about the community of support that they find in the trail. It is often unexpected and yet ubiquitous. Both/and. They offer a staunch counter narrative to the horror we hear in the news, the contention and division. There are people dedicated to helping them and they, in turn, are dedicated to helping others. “You can do this!” they say to anyone listening. “We’ll help you do this,” their followers echo back to them. They broadcast friendship, kindness and support.

It is a breath of fresh air, a sparkling optimism for the best in humanity. It rises on the trail. Generosity that cultivates generosity. Hope that is grounded in the experience of the unprotected, the heat and cold and bugs and rain and challenge of being-what-they-are-doing. Shared experience. Sanctuary. Here. Everywhere.

read Kerri’s blog post about SANCTUARY