A Greater Truth [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on February 6, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

“Politics is downstream of culture.” ~ Brian Tyler Cohen

Societies disappear but their art remains. The art serves to carry forward through time the essence, the beliefs, the customs, the inner space and outer limits of a culture. Culture is a force greater than politics. Artists carry in their work the flame of culture; they serve a greater truth. The same cannot be said of politicians or captains of industry.

Like it or not, the artists at the Grammy awards spoke directly to the current horrors of our politics. They know the reach and power of their words and their artistry to inspire action. Bruce Springsteen’s song, The Streets of Minneapolis has become an anthem celebrating the courageous people who refuse to hide from the bully. It is a call to the essence of the American spirit while also calling out the lies of division and brutality of ICE and those who’ve created this mindless monster.

On the National Mall a sculpture appeared of the authoritarian-wannabe holding hands with Epstein. It’s entitled “Best Friends Forever”. A second installation, a ten foot replica of The Wannabe’s Birthday Card to Epstein, has shown up. The work of Banksy and those who emulate him are showing up on walls all across the world. A picture is worth a thousand words.

Anselm Kiefer, among the greatest visual artists of our times, has spent his life working “…themes of German history and the horrors of the Holocaust”. His work speaks directly to the fascist moment we now face in the USA.

Art inspires action because it reaches beyond words to touch souls. It simplifies the complex. It clarifies the chaos.

To say we live in complex times is an understatement. An old world order is collapsing. The gap between the haves and the have-nots is ever-widening, our politicians sell our future to the corporate dollar and create oligarchs, who, in turn, would have us believe that the people are incapable of governing themselves.

In our lifetime there has never been a greater need for the artist’s voice. We are daily served an avalanche of lies meant to keep us confused and off-center. Consider this: every person on the streets blowing a whistle or recording the brutality of ICE is an artist. They are calling our attention to the truth. They actively pierce the ugly rhetoric to expose the stark reality. They challenge the lies. They support us in knowing with absolute clarity who we are so that we might come together as a community and say to this administration, “You do not represent us. We are better than this.”

To all the republican politicians out there: be certain that culture is coming for you.

YOU MAKE A DIFFERENCE © 2003 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpsot about ARTISTS

Marc Chagall ‘America Windows’ www.kerrianddavid.com

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A Run On The Wheel [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on February 3, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

One of our first FLAWED cartoons features a gerbil running hard on a gerbil wheel while his supervisor-gerbil watches, smokes a cigarette, and says, “This work thing sucks.”

I found a revisioned truth in that original cartoon drawn over a decade ago. Kerri calls it “The Oligarchy versus The People. There is a class of gerbil that works hard on the wheel. There is a class of gerbil that profits from the work.

This morning while making breakfast I had another revelation about the cartoon. With the latest release of Epstein File documents, with the number of rich and powerful white men named in the files, with the damning accusations and implications running rampant through the files, I was struck by the blaring absence of investigations into those men. There is a class of gerbil that is subject to the law. There is a class of gerbil that the law refuses to touch.

The department of deception (formerly known as the department of justice) is refusing to release at least 50% of the documents. Given the picture painted in the latest batch of releases and the 100% certainty that they are covering-up for the worst-of the-worst, one can only wonder if there is a bottom to the depravity. Actually, we already know the answer to that question.

Though, there is a subtle reversal of roles happening on the ol’ gerbil wheel. We-the-gerbils-that-do-the-work are witnessing the power-gerbils running scared – and running faster and faster to escape the truth of their twisted lives. They will find, as we have, that a run on the wheel goes nowhere. They can run ever-faster but they cannot escape the truth of the wheel. And while they run they can be certain that we are watching them sweat.

There may be some justice after all.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE WHEEL

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These Bright Lights [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on January 22, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” ~ Plato

And aren’t we now witness to a real tragedy. A president and his party desperately afraid of the light of truth. They pretend bravado, they posture as leaders, all the while terrified of shining a light on the Epstein files. Their dance is a dance of distraction. Their abject fear of light shining on their darkness makes them monstrous. They throw shadows on the wall in an attempt to divert attention from the files.

We have “happy lights” strategically placed all over our house. During the dark days of winter these lights lift our spirits much as a campfire might if we were lost in the deep woods. Firelight repels shadow monsters. Happy lights repel sadness monsters. In the dark of early morning, after plugging in the coffee pot, I plug in the happy lights.

Plato wrote an allegory about prisoners’ chained in a cave. They mistake shadow for reality. One of the prisoners escapes and learns that the shadows are not the truth. He returns to the cave excited to share his discovery with the other prisoners and is met with hostile rejection. The others have grown accustomed to their chains and comfortable in their ignorance. It’s an allegory appropriate for MAGA and perfectly describes the propaganda-Fox casting shadow-monsters on the wall.

In Minneapolis and other cities, people of color are afraid to leave their houses. There are real monsters, masked and armed, roaming the streets. Although these monsters are not themselves shadows their minds are awash in them. Comfortable ignorance is a cancer that metastasizes as darkness in the heart. There are other people who do not fear the light, in fact they are bringers of the light, delivering groceries to the people in hiding, blowing whistles to alert the neighborhood of the presence of the monsters. They film the monsters. Their whistles and their cameras are forms of light. The sound is an alarm calling attention to the monsters, calling in the communal light. The cameras serve to lay bare the dark shadowy lies the monsters claim as truth.

I have hope that these bright lights will one day repel the masked monsters roaming the streets, monsters grown comfortable in their chains and ugly in their ignorance. Orks.

These bright lights, gathering together all across Minneapolis, the nation and the world, stoking the bright light of freedom and truth, will one day overwhelm the republican/authoritarian darkness and expose the ugliness that their leaders so desperately fear and work so hard to hide.

Helping Hands, 53.5 x 15.25IN, acrylic on canvas

read Kerri’s blogpost about HAPPY LIGHTS

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The Nitty Gritty [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on January 19, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

“I wish it didn’t have the number 47 on it,” she said of the painted clay plate. “It ruins it for me.” We launched into a conversation about all the nitty gritty things that the authoritarian wannabe and his grotesques have ruined for us. The word “great”. The color red. The word “ice”. The Republican party. The office of the President. The Supreme Court. The word “tremendous”. It is a very long list. It includes family relationships. It includes having an iota of respect for anyone who supports him or makes excuses for him or justifies the horror show that he’s unleashed; it includes the systems (people) that seem unwilling or incapable of stopping what they know to be putrid. He leaves his stink on all of us.

It includes my understanding of the word “tolerance”. I have long believed it is important to stand in the shoes of “the other person”. I now have an asterisk next to the word “tolerance”: there are some shoes that are too ugly to stand in. There are some points of view too toxic to entertain. I’ve found within me the absolute necessity for intolerance and I cannot express how profoundly sad that makes me.

And then there is the contrast principle, the nitty gritty things that fill me with hope. I will never see a whistle in the same way. The word “taco” is forever altered. I am in awe of people dedicated to peaceful protest in the face of a gestapo that antagonizes them. The word “protest” has come to mean so much more than I understood. Phrases like “due process” and “habeas corpus” are now three-dimensional and brimming with importance. Amidst the utter cowardice of the major media, the phrase “a free press” carries renewed significance. An actual free press is rising among the progressive independent media. The word “truth” is no longer generic. I’ll now forever equate the word “courage” with people running out of their homes to protect their neighbors. “Protect”. People organizing to reclaim decency and to demand integrity in our leaders. “Organizing”. So many words finding gravity in this time.

I no longer take the word “democracy” for granted. It is forever changed, enlivened. I understand the word “vote” as one of the most powerful actions a human being can take. Deciding who represents us, our values and will steward our shared dream. And, if our representatives betray our trust, we vote to remove them and replace them with someone more capable. Someone with “integrity”. Yet another nitty gritty word that has renewed meaning.

Vote. Integrity. Democracy. Truth. Decency. Shared values, like “equality”. These are the nitty gritty: the basics, the essentials, the essence. These “words” are the most profound gifts that members of our community can give to each other. In these times, they are the epicenter of what we must claim and protect for each other.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE PLATE

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Step Into The Light [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Posted on November 24, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

The fear of speaking in public is consistently ranked number one above the fear of death. For the Epstein survivors, the two fears merge into one: for years they feared they would be harmed if they spoke out. Their fear is not unfounded. The most powerful men (people) in the world have conspired for decades to keep them silent. They still are. So, imagine the courage it has taken for them to stand in public and speak.

It is ironic that the entire Republican party, fearful of the light of truth, continue to believe that their silence-in-lock-step is strength. Although they feign support for the release of the Epstein files and pretend concern for the over-one-thousand victims, although they vomit words and words and more words… the noise they make is nothing more than cover for their complicity. It is loud silence. To misquote Shakespeare, Methinks thou doth protest too much.

Audre Lorde wrote, “Your silence will not protect you.” It is a truth that the Epstein survivors came to understand, a driving force behind their courage to step together into the public light and say, “This happened. It was wrong. It matters.” (Tarana Burke, Unbound)

Just as the survivors came to recognize that silence is not strength, we can only hope that the Republican party, the DOJ and the FBI soon arrive at the same conclusion: silence will not protect you. Obfuscating will not spare you. Silence, in this case, is nothing more or less than collusion with the perpetrators. Conspiracy inevitably arrives at a reckoning.

So, to the increasingly spine-free members, the sad remnants of the once Grand Old Party, we hope some among you address the elephant in the room, break the silence and find the courage to demand full disclosure of the files. Step into the light with the survivors. No matter how emphatic the noise you make, no matter how excessive the denial or empty declarations of concern you bellow, it might be prudent to arrive at the same conclusion as did the Epstein survivors: silence will no longer protect you.

read Kerri’s blogpost about SILENCE AND VOICE

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Shine The Light [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on November 20, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

Impressions in the moment:

It’s a miserable day with freezing rain so bitter that Dogga does not want to go outside. He would leap with glee into a blizzard so it’s a potent statement that he, our snow-dog, chooses to stay warm and dry inside.

We are writing this post in the space between the press conference with the Epstein survivors and the House vote. By the time you read this the vote will have been taken. If I was a better writer, I’d narrate this story of this limbo moment, or perhaps the liminal space in our nation’s history, in which it became crystal clear how hard the patriarchy, the powerful male elite, will fight to maintain their privilege, their protected position above the law. This vote will pass the House. What comes next will reveal whether we are we witness to a tipping point or yet another act of avoidance facilitated by a system that grants immunity to the male gentry at the exclusion of the rights of women. What new obstacle will arise to prevent the release of the files and fail to expose the rot in the halls of power? What information will be scrubbed?

I watched the Epstein survivors holding photographs of themselves, taken at the age of their abuse. Children. I saw a picture of Kerri taken at the age when she was sexually assaulted. She looked barely a teenager. I couldn’t speak for several moments after looking at the photograph.

In Seattle I was summoned to jury duty. My pool of 50 citizens was called into voir dire, jury selection, for a case about sexual assault. It was unusual because we were the third group of 50 called before the judge. In the courtroom, the judge made a simple request: Raise your hands if you have been the victim of sexual abuse or if you know anyone who has been sexually abused? Every person in the pool raised their hands. The judge sighed, exasperated. He said, “I’ve now asked this question of three groups. That’s 150 people. Every single person has raised their hands. I believe I could go on like this all day and not find 12 people to seat a jury who have not been impacted by sexual abuse. What’s going on here?”

Indeed. What’s going on here.

She knelt on the trail to get a picture of the dandelion. The sun, low in the sky, made it luminous, gorgeous. This dandelion was scrappy, still hanging on even in the November cold. “I wouldn’t have seen it at all if the light hadn’t been just right,” she said, showing me the photo. “It’s amazing what you see, what emerges, when something finds its way into the light.”

Eve, 48″x48″, acrylic on panel

66 & 19, mixed media on canvas

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE DANDELION AND LIGHT

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This [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Posted on November 12, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

Emerging from the grocery store the sky literally stopped us in our tracks. We weren’t the only ones; harried shoppers racing their full carts to their cars were paralyzed by the beauty. Perfect strangers actually spoke to each other. “Can you believe it?”

“Unbelievable.”

We joined the sky paparazzi and snapped photos, ohhing and ahhing with every click. “You just can’t capture it.”

People joined in beauty. For a few precious moments, people dropped their hurry and their politics, their worries and their angst, and united in awe beneath the fiery performance in the sky. The abstractions dropped away. The performance pulled us together. Pure art.

The moment passed. We can only give so much time to awe. The spell was broken and we each jumped back into our busy lists and went our separate ways. I imagine – or it is my hope – that we left the parking lot knowing that it only takes a wee-bit-o-beauty to pull us from our harried, divided and lonely minds and remind us that – in truth – we walk this miracle earth together.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE SKY

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The Feeling Of Normalcy [David’s blog on KS Friday]

Posted on October 31, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

“If you do not change direction, you may end up where you are heading.” ~ Lao Tzu

After a long week of travel and a few days delay due to nasty weather, we took advantage of the first bit of sun and returned to our trail. It was as if an entire season had passed in our brief absence. So much life happened in such a small amount of time.

In truth, on the road home we discussed how it felt as if we’d been away for years. We felt as if we’d stepped into an alternative universe. Like a science fiction movie, it seemed that our rocket ship returned to earth and although we’d only aged a few days, the earth had aged a few hundred years. The world we knew no longer existed. It was a strange feeling to walk a trail we knew so well and yet it felt unknown.

It was, perhaps, more unsettling because that is how I feel about these un-United States these days. I walk through my days in places that I recognize and yet it is made strange by a congress that is effectively dissolved, the rapid destruction of the symbol we call The White House, a president blatantly and gleefully bilking the nation while building a Marie Antoinette ballroom while democracy crumbles, people starving, people being plucked off the street and disappeared for no other reason than their skin is brown, and the highest court in the land, rather than protecting the Constitution, betraying it, shoveling more power to the autocrat. We are no longer headed for a fascist state, we have arrived.

And I go to the grocery store as I always have. I rake the leaves that fell while we were gone. We make dinner each night. When the sun peeks from behind the clouds, we return to our trail and walk so we might feel a bit of normalcy.

But the feeling of normalcy is now our enemy. Human beings are excellent at adapting and even more skilled at denying; making the atrocious acceptable. Normalizing the outrageous is now the force we must resist. We have already gone too far in normalizing the monstrous, in accepting the incessant lies and petulant abuse of power – and willing abdication of responsibility in The House, the cowing of the once-free-press. We cannot allow the loathsome to become our new normal. We cannot become accustomed to oppression.

We can, however, recover the impulse that gave our nation its birth: we know how to rebel against a bully king doing the bidding of the morbidly wealthy. We know how to join with our neighbors and speak truth to power-run-amok. We know how to say to corrupt tyrants, “This will not stand.” We know how to set course toward a more perfect union, a nation where all people are created equal, respected, and protected equally under the law.

[Happy Halloween! I just had a conversation about costumes and what I would wear to be the most scary. My answer: a republican. What kind of monster takes away food assistance from the most needy to give more money to the already morbidly wealthy? And then lies about it. Scary.]

MILNECK FALL on the album BLUEPRINT FOR MY SOUL © 1997 Kerri Sherwood

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

read Kerri’s blogpost about AUTUMN TRAIL

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No Space. No Time. [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Posted on September 9, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

Our saturday-morning-smack-dab-cartoon was about feeling wistful in the fall. We very intentionally prompted something non-political, non-news-of-the-day-ish, so we might give our hearts and minds a break from railing against the incessant assault on our democratic way of life. And then I read something that deeply upset me. Instead of writing about wistfulness, I wrote about our national incapacity of dealing with the truth.

And then, at the end of my post, I wrote an apology for once again shaking my metaphoric fists and railing at the lies.

And then, I erased my apology. I did not want to lie. In truth, I was not sorry for railing at the lies and misinformation and abuse of the public trust. I call myself an artist and the very epicenter of that role is to hold a mirror up to my community. Sometimes the image in the mirror is ugly.

We were walking on the Des Plaines river trail, just north of Chicago, when two fighter jets ripped across the sky just above the tree line. The earth shook. It was the same day that the authoritarian wanna-be, in a meme no less…, declared war on Chicago. I made the assumption that the fighter jets were an opening salvo, a demonstration of power by a weak little man meant to shake the populace.

“Can you believe it?” she asked.

Isn’t it sad that my first assumption was that the president of the united states sent war planes over the region to startle the populace? Isn’t it sad that, in these times, even though my assumption was wrong, it was not an outlandish proposition, not a sci-fi-speculation, but actually within the realm of possibility?

Many of her recent photographs capture fading flowers. I am drawn to them. The brittle shapes. The muting colors. Life energy pulling away from the blossom and retreating to the root to rest and re-energize. It produces a different kind of beauty.

It is this waning beauty, this retreat into the root that has always evoked my wistfulness. I realized that this autumn I will probably not feel my usual wistfulness. The yearning of fall is made delicious because of the promise of spring emerging from dark winter. Wistfulness is letting go to open space for renewal. I realized, watching the fighter jets, aghast that a president would resort to such a childish meme to declare his ugliest of intentions, to turn the military on its citizens, that I do not know if our democratic nation will be here in the spring.

There is no space for wistfulness. There is no time for apologies. There is no longer any doubt that a fascist dark winter is descending. We are fools to think that it will lead to a democratic spring.

read Kerri’s blogpost about WANING FLOWERS

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Do Small Somethings [David’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab]

Posted on August 23, 2025 by davidrobinsoncreative

I’ve heard it said that there are two kinds of Christianity. The first places the emphasis on love and inclusion. The second places the emphasis on rules and exclusion. These two roads lead to wildly different worship-realities; two radically different world views.

Little things add up. Tens of millions of people getting up everyday determined to do small acts of kindness adds up to a damn powerful something.

It is also true that tens of millions of people getting up everyday determined to do small acts of cruelty also adds up to a damn powerful something. The sentiment cuts both ways.

Heather Cox Richardson suggested that we, the believers of love and inclusion, the woke, need to take back the narrative from the white supremacist christian nationalists currently flooding our airways, poisoning our brainwaves, and soiling our social media with incessant acts of cruelty.

Protesting cruelty is an act of kindness. Donating food to a food bank is an act of kindness. Calling your representatives and demanding that they serve you, the constituent, rather than the whims of a single man, is an act of kindness. Emphasizing love and kindness without apology – each and every day – is an act of strength.

Love and inclusion need not be soft. Kindness in the face of cruelty is not weakness; it is to stand up for what you believe. Calling out every single lie is not aggression, it is a commitment to truth. Small acts matter. Open doors for people. Literally and metaphorically.

Team cruelty is unapologetically standing up for what it believes. Each lie, each breach of the constitution, each broken promise, each gerrymander, each bully maneuver is a goosestep toward a damn powerful something. It’s called fascism.

If you believe that love is stronger than hate, that kindness is an act more powerful than cruelty, it is way past time to start stacking up the little things. Each and every day. Donate to the homeless shelter. Pick up the phone and call your representatives. Take to the streets with your neighbors and say, “Enough.” Join the tens of millions of others doing small somethings to create a damn powerful something: it’s called Democracy. It’s called love. It’s called inclusion. WE. The People.

*the quote in our cartoon is from John Pavlovitz

read Kerri’s blogpost about SMALL THINGS

smack-dab © 2025 kerrianddavid.com

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