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Category Archives: art


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gently in my hands. [d.r. thursday]

FaceTheRain copy

today, as i write this for tomorrow’s post, is My Girl’s 29th birthday.  29!! where does the time go?  i pretty clearly remember making her birthday cakes through the years:  little mermaid, elmo and big bird, barney, pocahontas, daisies and peace signs and smile faces, ballet slippers and exclamation points. i loved making homemade birthday cakes for My Boy also:  semi-tractor-trailers, sneaker-cake, a vw bug, soccerball and soccer field cakes, basketballs, tow trucks, helicopters, tennis rackets, thomas the tank engine.  these cakes did not look anything like the beautiful and painstakingly detailed cakes my dear friend susan makes, but, with food dye staining my hands and frosting all over my clothing and stuck even in my hair, it was a source of great delight for me to design and make their cakes.

i’m wishing that i could make a (gluten free) cake for her today, celebrate her.  instead she will spend her day in the high mountains.  she will be surrounded by great beauty.  snow caps the mountains and spring taunts her little town.  she’ll breathe in the freshest air, walk briskly with no effort or even a nod to the altitude, laugh with friends, work with vigor.  and she’ll be one-day-older-making-her-one-year-older on this good earth.

and i lift my face to the heavens and the universe and ask, for this miracle in my life called a daughter,  for experiences of exploration and surprise, for learning and the confidence of knowing, for love given and love received, for reliance on a benevolent universe.  holding her gently in my hands, i ask for all good things for her.

and i hope she had a really delicious piece of gluten free birthday cake.

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

click here to view FACE THE RAIN painting online

GFcake website box

FACE THE RAIN ©️ 2019 david robinson


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pray. [d.r. thursday]

prometheus resurrection morsel copy

wendy has a halo.  i’m convinced of it.   she is the best-in-the-family at expressing thanks, birthday wishes, words of encouragement, stories of her own life in cards and notes and photographs and letters and all digital methods of communicating.  we try to stay in touch and know what is going on in each other’s lives.  we have agreed that in all our texts, our snapchats, our chats, we are “sharing life” and there couldn’t be anything more important.

one of the things i absolutely know about wendy is that she relies on the power of prayer.  she names people she loves and lifts them up.  she thinks positive thoughts.  she sends positive messages.  and she prays.

i have had many a time on my knees.  searching for answers.  asking for guidance.   hoping for grace.  lifting up people i love.

were we to all be like wendy, perhaps we would all have halos too.  mostly, perhaps we would all have everyone else’s best interests at heart.  perhaps our world would be more compassionate; perhaps it would be kinder.

with or without a halo, i want to participate. to pray for goodness, to be kind, to share lives.

David Robinson Prometheus Resurrection copy

drc website header copy 2

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

with wendy website box

PROMETHEUS RESURRECTION ©️ 2009 david robinson

 


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fiercely tender. [d.r. thursday]

MotherDaughter morsel copy

MOTHERDAUGHTER morsel

there are moments you remember as a mother.  more than you can possibly count.  but there are some that stand out.  you can feel it forever.  any reminder of it makes you draw in your breath and pause.  THIS morsel, THIS painting does that for me.  THIS is how i feel.

the moment you are safety in a storm, respite in chaos, time-out in exhaustion.  the moment of sheer relief, absolute validation, exquisite shared joy or devastating shared aching grief.  the moment of connected silence, words with no air.  an embrace that is forever.

all.  fiercely tender.

MotherDaughter (full) copy

to view MOTHERDAUGHTER please click on the painting above or on this link

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

arches shadows k&d website box

MOTHERDAUGHTER ©️ 2019 david robinson


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running, face to the sun. [d.r. thursday]

morsel bubble chasers copy

what makes you raise your arms up, face to the sky?  what do you run after?  what do you run toward?  what makes your glee that you lift to the universe? what makes your eyes gaze up in gratitude?  are you beseeching, imploring?  are you running after the sun, beams of evasive light?  are you running into the rain just as it starts to fall?  are you trying to catch bubbles of incandescent film floating high above you?  are you simply playing frisbee or beach volleyball?

so many reasons for this morsel of painting to be recognizable, a snapshot of a moment in time, when, together with someone else, you looked up, lifted your arms toward the sun, and ran full-tilt after something.  maybe even a dream.

ChasingBubbles Full copy

i love this painting, even not quite done.  IMPORTANT:  if it’s something you are interested in, please let me know so that i can save it from being painted over.  sometimes artists don’t SEE their own work. (eye roll)

read DAVID’S thoughts about this D.R. THURSDAY

drc website header copy 2

halfmoonbay CA website box.jpg

CHASING BUBBLES ©️ 2019 david robinson

 


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there is a place [d.r. thursday]

alki cropped copy

a morsel of ALKI BEACH

there are those places – where you sit and your breathing slows down.  the blue of sky calms you, the warm sand molds to your shape and the water beyond where you sit lulls you and quells the inner mixmaster of your thoughts.

for me, many many years ago now,  that place was crab meadow beach.  i felt some kind of kinship with the seagulls and the lure that shoreline had on them.  off-season still found me sitting on the pebbles along the waterline, in the sand gathered in small wind-dunes, on the cement dolphin or walking, walking, walking, ankle-deep in a surf that changed daily.  a place where i could sort out growing up, it soothed me, challenged me, spoke to me.

it’s not always a beach.  or the top of a mountain.  or a quiet lakeside cove.  or an inviting stump on a thick woodsy trail.  most of the time we don’t all have access to these things on a daily basis.

but there is a place.  where you can find the silence you need.  for david, this is often in front of his easel, a fresh canvas waiting or an unfinished painting beckoning.  this painting – ALKI BEACH – reminds me of that place.  the places nearby, the places within.  the rocking chair in the room upstairs, the adirondack chair in the backyard, the piano bench.  the place you draw the seagulls close, whisper your thoughts to them and send them on their way back into the world.

David Robinson ALKI copy 2

click here or on painting above to view ALKI BEACH on davidrobinsoncreative.com

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

rhode island website box

ALKI BEACH ©️ c.2009 david robinson


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pax. [d.r. thursday]

pax morsel sharpened copy

a morsel of the painting PAX

pax: the kiss of peace (latin); peace (ecclesiastical latin)

“pax,” he wrote to me.  years ago, in a chaotic, somewhat scary time of my life, the word “pax” was an end-goal, security in an insecure world, the warmest blanket on a bitter cold day.  it doesn’t just happen.  there are people around us, some epicentered and some peripherally, who create a place where we can find this peace, even momentarily.  their stalwart stance, their steadiness brings us back off the brink of angst.  the smallest iota of peace, like a mustard seed, grows until we can balance back on our own feet, strong enough to walk on…with leaps or even baby steps.

this painting makes me think of one of those people in my own life.  a dear deeply-valued friend, his help and his accessibility helped me deal with someone else’s craziness unfortunately directed at me.   he was the lighthouse in that storm for me.  he helped me feel safer so that i could find peace in the chaos.

for various reasons, we don’t always realize when we are someone else’s rock.  we don’t feel central, we don’t feel involved, we don’t feel informed.  but there are times we don’t know – times we plant ourselves into someone’s life and nurture them, even in the tiniest of ways – times we may never know how much what we said or what we did counted.  times of giving peace to someone else, one of life’s most essential elements.

“pax,” he wrote to me.  thank you.

PAXunframed copy 2

PAX mixed media  24″ x 24″

to view PAX in david’s gallery, please click here or on the painting above

read DAVID’S thoughts on this D.R. THURSDAY

birdy feet website box

PAX ©️ 2015 david robinson, kerri sherwood

 

 

 


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this great mystery. [d.r. thursday]

painting FOR PEACE I PRAY morsel copy

a morsel of the painting FOR PEACE, I PRAY

in this great mystery of the circle of life, i can think of no better prayer, no better mind-heart-talk, no better statement of living, than these words.  there is no partisan leaning, no self-serving ask, no specific request of a higher being.  just words to aid the step-step-step of life…words to accompany a walk on this good earth in wonder, in love, in light.

this great mystery, pointedly mysterious in moments high above canyons, on shores where waves crash upon the beach, in the hues of a new day stretching as far as you can see, in the million stars reaching further than you can imagine…a mystery of existence…the question why-am-i-here looking for an answer.

the answer of this great mystery?  never one thing.  the answer is found in hospital rooms and hands joined in hope, in gales of laughter shared with loved ones, the highest joy moments in one’s life, the lowest crushing moments in one’s life, holding a newborn baby, embracing a failing parent, hearing the voice of one’s grown child, walking side-by-side with another on a path, the about-faces and circular confusion on those paths, love at its best, love at its worst.

in every corner of the globe are people living this mystery.  each of these people breathe in and breathe out in the same way.  it is part of this great mystery that this breath is even possible.  if we can breathe in light, in strength, in love, in peace, in wonder, as one family, we will have embraced the prayer.   the mystery will continue to be.

ForPeace,IPray copy

FOR PEACE, I PRAY mixed media 50″x60″ (sold)

drc website header

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

footprints in sunlit snow website box

FOR PEACE, I PRAY ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood

 

 

 

 

 

 


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paintings are like that. [d.r. thursday]

see an owl with frame copy

K.DOT & D.DOT SEE AN OWL mixed media 24″ x 48″

as you know, we are two artists living together.  so everything around our house has meaning of some sort.  each rock, each piece of wood, each feather, each vintage suitcase, each peace sign, each wooden box, each old window frame, each peeling screen door, each painting.  before david’s paintings also found their way onto the walls, there were several paintings i had painted.  well, “painted”.  i spattered and brushed black and white paint to the beating of my heart onto large canvases until i knew the paintings were done and then hung them up.  they each have a story – a heart narrative that might not be obvious to you, but is something i can feel each time i look at each of these paintings.

david’s work is stunning.  although some of them are for sale, we have pieces of his displayed on our walls – stories on canvas, we have chosen to hang paintings that tell part of our story together.  you never get tired of looking at something that is a piece of your life, a canvas of an intimate moment here or there.  K.DOT & D.DOT SEE AN OWL is one of those.  it’s an exquisite collection of color and movement and reaching.  in our story, it is about seeing an owl in the big old pine tree in our backyard.  on your wall, it could be about any moment in your life that you and your beloved looked forward, pointing into the future, embracing it, excitedly sharing together something inordinately full of meaning and just yours.  paintings are like that.

click here to view this painting on david’s online gallery

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

chicago river website box

drc website header

K.DOT & D.DOT SEE AN OWL ©️ 2015 david robinson & kerri sherwood

 


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perfect in the world. [d.r. thursday]

mother&childprocessshot copy

in the last few days, one of my friends became a first-time-grandmother.  those of us who were aware of her daughter’s giving-birth-countdown would text her asking for any news or updates, as excited as if it were our own story.  sunday morning she texted to say that indeed a little baby girl had been born in the pre-sun hours of the day.  her daughter, a friend of my own daughter’s since kindergarten, was now a mom and all was perfect in the world.

i saw this painting-in-process as i walked down the steps into david’s basement studio.  the new mother, sitting cross-legged, gazing intently at her new baby made my heart skip a beat.  i recognized the look, the tilt of her head, the gentle but secure way she was holding her baby.  it took me back – immediately – to my first moments holding kirsten or craig, those nothing-short-of-miraculous minutes when time stood still and everything was perfect in the world.

i cannot imagine the power of this painting when it is completed.  it’s already intoxicatingly striking.  it brings back every memory.  it reminds me of what is most important.  the delicious feeling of holding a tiny baby, the dreams that soar in your head, the bond of love.  times when everything is perfect in the world.

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

WATCH for this painting in DAVID’S GALLERY

snowheart website box copy

mother and child – in process ©️ 2019 david robinson, kerri sherwood


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no one can really tell us. [d.r. thursday]

no one can tell us copy

NO ONE CAN TELL US mixed media 24″ x 32″

“…no one can tell us because life is not something which can be understood from a book…” (krishnamurti)

when my big brother died almost 27 years ago, my world tilted, never to return to the same again.  i struggled to understand that this amazingly smart, talented, witty man – someone i depended on my whole life – was no longer going to be in this world.  losing him left me with a lot of questions.

ever since then i have not been able to wrap my head around how the world keeps going if you cannot feel it anymore.  and yet, each loss i have experienced is evidence that is exactly what happens.  the world keeps going. it’s all a mystery.  no one can really tell us.

there is no handbook available to explain all this.  life’s complicated layers and sideroads, the junctures where we choose left or right, the places we decide to stop or go…it’s all a mystery.  no one can really tell us.

nearly every day there is some world-tilting reminder to wholeheartedly embrace the moment you are in; nearly every day we forget.  it’s not as easy as just remembering.  it’s not easily understood.  your shoes are not my shoes and, although it is easy for me to sense all the concurrent emotions in a room, i still cannot grasp what you are actually going through.  my sun could be your rain.  it’s all a mystery.  no one can really tell us.

so we try.  we try to understand, without instruction, the strands and tattered fragments and shiny-mica-bits that weave together into life.  mostly, we keep feeling life.  and the world keeps going.

read DAVID’S thoughts on this D.R. THURSDAY

to view NO ONE CAN TELL US on DAVID’s gallery site, click here

snowpath in bristolwoods website box

NO ONE CAN TELL US ©️ 2015 david robinson & kerri sherwood