Enjoy Your Ride [on Merely A Thought Monday]

loop copy


Navigating a transit system can be confusing. The skill is knowing where you are relative to the end-of-the-line and which end-of-the-line is the direction you wish to travel. It’s a process of orienting. Here I am now. There is where I want to be. Inevitably, learning the system comes from of getting on the wrong train a few times.

It turns out that navigating life requires the same skill. Knowing where you are relative to where you want to be. Getting lost, getting on the wrong train is a necessary part of the process. Who hasn’t looked out their window and thought, “This isn’t where I wanted to go.” Or, “I’m not doing with my life what I wanted to do.” The real challenge, so I’ve  been told, is not in the knowing of where you want to go but in being honest enough with yourself to recognize where you are now.

Recently, climbing the stairs to catch a train in Chicago, we saw this helpful guide. Loop. This train will take you to the downtown loop. I laughed. Transit-Life-Lesson #2: whether you recognize it our not, learning lessons in life happens in loops and not lines. They call them “life lessons” because they come back around again and again and again…. There is no wrong direction in a loop. So, I suppose, whether you know where you are going or not, it’s best to enjoy your ride. Your unique life lesson will most certainly come back around.

Of course, in any case, in every case, asking for help is always…helpful. So, if you don’t mind, please tell me again, where am I?


read Kerri’s blog post about LOOP


roger's park feet website box copy 2


Spend Time Together [on KS Friday]

time together song box copy

In the fall of 2013, still new in our relationship yet already tired of making it work at a distance, Kerri and I flew to Seattle, packed my studio, my paintings, and my few worldly possessions into a Budget truck. We headed east over Snoqualmie Pass en route to Wisconsin. The trip took us five days. Five days of adventure. Five days of gorgeous scenery. Five days of uninterrupted time together. It served as the portal into our new life.

This piece, TIME TOGETHER, could be the soundtrack for our five day journey. It is hopeful, bright, and present in the way that people become when on a road trip, surrounded by a startling world, en route to the unknown new. On this KS Friday, sit back in your seat, close your eyes, and let Kerri’s TIME TOGETHER take you on the road. Marvel at the simple pleasure of companionship, of precious time shared with the person you love.



TIME TOGETHER on the album THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY is available on iTunes & CDBaby


if you'd like to see kerri sherwood.. copy 2

read Kerri’s blog post about TIME TOGETHER



facebook logo copy 2

tolerate or like us on facebook

time together/this part of the journey ©️ 2000 kerri sherwood

See The Stars [on Chicken Marsala Monday]

youcansleepanytime WITH EYES jpeg copy

One of the reasons I like to travel is that it disrupts the ordinary. It breaks all the patterns that allow me to sleepwalk through my days. I remember standing on a street corner in London watching commuters hustle through the rituals of their day, lost in their ordinary. While, at the same time, their ordinary was a marvel to me. Everything was extraordinary, the sounds, the smells, the rhythms; it was all new and strange to me.

Hard times wake us up. Celebration days help us look at life anew. Pattern disruption. It’s all a miracle, easy to see, when we take off the story-lens of dull and habitual.

One night, just after Chicken popped onto the scene (fully formed like some wacky Greek cartoon god) there was a meteor shower. As we struggled out of bed in the middle of the night I felt like complaining. Sleep beckoned me back to my warm bed. That’s when I heard the thrill-call of my little-live-life-monger, in an enthusiastic sing-song, Chicken hailed, “You can sleep anytime….”

if you'd like to see more CHICKEN... copy


read Kerri’s blog post about STARS SHOOTING ACROSS THE SKY




you can sleep anytime… ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood

Welcome The Bump

With Kerri on the top of a mountain

With Kerri on the top of a mountain in Colorado.

Just beyond Vail, Colorado there is a tiny two street town called Minturn. It began as a mining town when people were rushing for gold but these days it survives as a place for tourists. It is radically different than its founding fathers intended. We stayed there for a few days of rest and recuperation after our two-week double loop through Middle America.

The double loop through America was nowhere in the plan a month ago. Things just seemed to pop up. A death. Kerri’s daughter stumbled into a new job that necessitated an immediate move. Plans changed. Our intentions for the month went out the window. All of the artistry went on hold. We quickly packed the car and hit the road.

Just as plans change it is also true that change is rarely planned. I’ve yet to meet a person who doesn’t resist change (despite their rhetoric). Change requires a step into the unknown and that’s precisely the point: real change comes when we simply don’t know. Most of us like to know where we are going before we step. Change finds its way through the cracks that happen when patterns are disrupted, when things just seem to pop up, when we have no idea what the next step is. Change happens when we are making it up as we go. Change is a creative act, a tap dance on the event horizon.

Last week we drove to Colorado from Wisconsin through Iowa and Nebraska to attend my grandfather’s funeral. After the service we drove to Columbia, Missouri, crossing the full expanse of Kansas, to deliver some treasures from Beaky (Kerri’s mom) to Wendy (Kerri’s niece). Since we were driving to Denver, why not go home via Missouri? We returned home long enough to wash our clothes, pet the dog, and repack the car and head to Minneapolis. We packed up Kerri’s daughter and moved her to Vail via South Dakota with a sharp turn through Nebraska before arriving again in Colorado. After a rest in Minturn, a few hikes, some time with wine sitting on a porch, and a few precious nights with my parents, yesterday we returned to Wisconsin through Wyoming, South Dakota, and Minnesota.

It was a tap dance. Change found its way in as our patterns disappeared in the spontaneity of the double loop. We arrived home exhausted and exhilarated, with renewed eyes, a riches of profound and varied experiences, and much clearer intentions. What seemed initially like an interruption in our path was, in fact, a crack in the pattern, a necessary bump into the unknown.

title_pageGo here for my latest book