reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Category Archives: DR thursday


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goodness makes people…[kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

for years i wore a yellow livestrong bracelet on my wrist. it was a small way of saying to the world that i – like millions of others – was part of wanting to raise awareness and generate support for cancer survivors.

i wore it through many years of performances at oncology and survivor events across the nation, through losing a dear friend to cancer, through scares i personally had. i’m pretty sure i had it on when heidi and i worked with lance armstrong and the tour of hope and i had it on the day my big brother had been gone fifteen years. i had it on when i recorded the bonus tracks i am alive and you make a difference for my as sure as the sun album. somewhere along the way, i stopped wearing one but i saved the last one i wore. my support did not stop.

these bracelets raised over $100 million and, with that, the livestrong foundation “unites, inspires and empowers people affected by cancer. [the foundation] provides free cancer support services to anyone facing cancer today.” the current president and ceo of livestrong has said that there are still sales of over 30,000 bracelets a year, so it is clear that this simple rubber bracelet – launched in 2004 – has been a long-term icon of cancer support.

i’d venture to say: goodness makes people step up.

which is why it is of particular note – as i am writing this ahead – on sunday – merely two weeks since joe biden sacrificed his re-election campaign for this country and, subsequently, endorsed the campaign of kamala harris – that in these very last two weeks her campaign has generated $310 million – an extraordinary amount. “two-thirds of the july total came from first-time donors, and a majority of the total was raised from donations of $200 or less,” the campaign said. goodness makes people step up.

i read that former president jimmy carter – an icon of benevolence – turns 100 in october. his centennial birthday is not his biggest goal. voting for the first woman president and for the upholding of democracy is his north star, is keeping him going, is exciting him, even in these late days of his life. goodness makes people step up.

we read and research, watch videos and listen to podcasts. we – in our own zeal to maintain the true democracy of these united states – wish to be able to do something, to make a difference. it was in one of many op ed pieces we in which we immersed, we heard the best advice about that: do what you do. do what you are good at. (not verbatim)

and so, we write. it’s what we do. it’s the thing we know to do. we write and write and write.

there may be days you disagree with one of us, with both of us. and that’s ok. that’s what it means to live in a democracy – you get to have your opinion.

but it is our hope – our fervent hope – that, like us, if what you read disturbs you, that you follow it…you do the research…ask questions…search your heart and soul. it is our hope that the popularity of the angerwagon does not tease you into passivity, does not step on the goodness that we know is in you. it is our hope – and we will repeat this over and over and over – that you really look at what it is you wish for…really, truly wish for…for you, your family, your grandchildren, your extended family, your friends, your community, this country…and evaluate – clearheadedly and grounded in truth – what it is you will vote for.

because goodness makes people step up.

“there is no greatness where there is no simplicity, goodness and truth.” (leo tolstoy)

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

INSTRUMENT OF PEACE 48″ x 91″ mixed media

CONTACT US to purchase INSTRUMENT OF PEACE painting

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overcoming adversity thrive in harsh conditions


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to be a tree. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

this is the year.

breck is strong, its trunk is solid, it’s rooted and feels grounded as it grows not only taller, but seems to have more and more branches filled with more and more beautiful aspen leaves.

this is the year. breck is a tree.

in the last years of saplinghood, our tiny aspen has had more than its share of challenges. from its beginnings in a pot we carried from city market in breckenridge to its ability to withstand the seasons in a big clay pot on our deck to being planted in a dark corner feathery fern garden where it suffocatingly couldn’t fully see the sun to transplanting to a different garden out back, the curving of its trunk as the west winds buffeted its more fragile spirit, its fight to resiliently stand tall, its skinny jack-in-the-beanstalk growth last year, odd leafing and an infestation of aphids, ants and wasps. and now, there it is – right there, out back – proudly standing tall, loved through it all. rooted, grounded, healthy.

i would draw the parallel between me and breck and our last few years were it not to be that i’d like to linger more in now, look more toward next. the challenges have been plentiful, the sun minimal, the wind battering, the growth sporadic.

but i would also draw the parallel between me and breck – once you get some real roots under you, once you transplant out of the dark corner garden, once you feel the sun and can breathe in fresh air, once you fight to stay centered, once you steadfastly feel grounded in who you are, once you resiliently stand tall growing and leafing, loved through it all, you are far more likely to be a tree.

this is the year.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

WAITING AND KNOWING mixed media 48″ x 48″

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illumination. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

it was one of those and-the-light-goes-on moments.

i was just scrollin’ along on social media and came across a meme that said this:

“if someone treats you badly, just remember that there is something wrong with them, not you. normal people don’t go around destroying other human beings.”

amazing where you find illumination.

and, battling back my own fuzzy remnants of hurt, i could see it. through the cluster of experiences, the middle of confusion, the unanswered questions, the mind-boggling chaos, i could see it.

and – like you – in any circumstance wherein you found yourself equally as astounded at the behavior of another person or other persons – i could see the rational logic in this simple statement.

we are all capable – and guilty – of hurting others at some point. we would not be human were we to be above this.

but the other-level-ness, unequivocally deliberate poor treatment – is another story. and those among us who have been privy to this sort of thing need remember this meme.

because – in plain language – normal people are not super mean like that. normal people are not agenda-driven like that. normal people are not pushing others under water. normal people don’t lie to substantiate their actions.

normal people choose kindness. normal people appreciate each other. normal people consider what is best for all, recognizing our interdependency. normal people lift each other up. normal people hold each other up. normal people are honest and transparent.

normal people are normal.

and wretched nastiness is not normal.

illumination indeed.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

HELPING HANDS acrylic 53.5″ x 15.25″

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here and now. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

to get out of our heads.

to be in the here and now.

to breathe.

…reasons we play rummikub.

if you haven’t tried it, don’t knock it. it’s a fun game and it totally makes us unplug.

next up, i think he is going to teach me how to play cribbage – which, for his family, is kind of a rite of passage. to say i have trepidation might be an understatement.

i’m thinking we need to pull out the scrabble game. or maybe yahtzee. (yes…thank you, i’d like games-i-usually-win-for-1000 please lol.)

regardless of the game, these summer evenings of late we have been seeking ways to step out of what’s happening right now.  in no uncertain terms does that mean ignore what is happening. it does not mean sticking our heads in the sand. it does not mean we won’t research or ask questions or be informed or suggest ways for others to learn the truth of what is happening.  it just acknowledges that we all need a break.

so, for just a little bit of time, we will step away from the merciless news, away from the computers and the phone apps, away from the polarized politics, away from the frightening thoughts of peril we are feeling, away from the ever-present question what-can-we-do.  for just a little bit of time, we will step out of the present – step to the side – to a place where we might rejuvenate – rest – so that we can reinvest our energy back into this world as best we can.

a little mango sorbet and a few games of rummikub may not sound like a vacation, but it gives us a bit of headspace, something else to focus on – a breather.

there’s nothing quite like a board game at the bistro table on the deck on a hot summer night with dogga under our feet, sorbet at the ready, garden lights on – to bring us back to here and now. even for a moment.

and that, my friends, is the one thing of which we are sure.

here and now.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

INSTRUMENT OF PEACE mixed media 48″ x 91″

the prayer featured on david’s INSTRUMENT OF PEACE painting: Lord, make me an instrument of your peace: where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. (prayer of st. francis)

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the tide. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

tuesday i was unnerved. it started small – with a reminder from and an uneasiness about people and the surprising ways they turn on others. it grew as i re-read my recents posts of the last few days, an ache in my heart. it grew even larger as we read news articles and studied sites of information. it grew as i watched youtube videos and read fact-checked information.

“these moments left me feeling worried and afraid, realizing what we stood to lose and how easily it could happen.” (*michelle obama – the light we carry)

at the end of the day, i was cranky at david who was cranky back and i wanted to scream … at something, at someone.

i didn’t scream. instead, i wept.

i had lost the day – this beautiful, humid, hot summer day – the only one i would get on july 9th 2024. “but, but…,” my brain interrupts, wanting to justify the loss.

and – in every critical-thinking way, i would agree with my brain – there is so much that is ugly and we have much to lose in this hot mess of a country. it could easily happen. and i am worried and afraid.

in a life-way though? i know i lost the day. all of it. and in the usual good rhythm of our time together, we had lost our day together.

the tide comes in. the tide goes out. it is certain.

and so, we try to deliberately hyper-focus on here and now. we try to focus on our breathing. we try to hold hands and walk slow.

we also try to do the best we can to be aware, to educate ourselves, to speak up and speak out, to ask questions, to try and understand what is happening, what could happen – differentiate between what is real and what is fictitious, what is terrifying potential and what is propagandized narrative.

i am worried and afraid.

and the tide comes in. and the tide goes out. that is certain.

*****

(*though that is not the context of michelle’s words in the above quote, their relevance struck me as i began to read her book today.)

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

SPOONS AND SANDCASTLES mixed media 28″ x 57.5″

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fly. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

“fly me to the moon and let me play among the stars…” (bart howard)

my uncle allen sang. his love of singing – through years of lessons and practice – often starred in our living room, where my brother would play guitar, i would play organ or piano and allen would sing. there is not a time i hear “fly me to the moon” without thinking about him or his devoted support of me.

it was my uncle allen who first encouraged me to record. it was my uncle allen who financially supported those early recording sessions. it was my uncle allen who celebrated the three-song cassette when it was done, ordering extra copies for everyone. it was my uncle allen who was my first go-to and my confidante when life-as-i-knew-it fell apart, when music-as-i-knew-it was shattered and when i fled new york. it was my uncle allen who built a house in florida that i could rent from him, trying to heal with no victim advocate or the assistance of any therapy. and it was my uncle allen who celebrated when i finally – sixteen years later – started recording again.

the third ward in milwaukee is one of our favorite places in which to wander about. i have a thing for paper and notebooks and pencils and all things stationery, so i find broadway paper a joyful shop. their paper airplane mobiles enchant over by the entrance door that shares the vestibule for marn art & culture hub. the exposed beams, exposed ductwork, exposed brick – ahh – d and i could live in such a space. we spent the afternoon strolling around with 20, in and out of shoppes. a tiny crazy air plant called my name and we bonded; “waukee” was the only purchase we brought home with us. we sat at the public market, had wine and gumbo and fried clams. it was all heavenly.

i searched in the hall closet – an utter melange of stuff: games, crafts, 10×10 vendor tent weights, playing cards – and found what i was looking for: the last vestiges of the origami airplane folding kit. because their dad was a pilot, this paper airplane kit was a big hit with our children. but i remembered there were a few pieces of origami paper left and – more importantly – the directions on how to fold. mayyyybe d and i will channel the mobile-making juju of groundbreaking mobile sculptor alexander calder … or, at the very least, channel broadway paper.

in the meanwhile i dove into the thickly-filled drawers of old file cabinets in my studio. and found the other thing i was looking for: the sheet music for fly me to the moon. it is pretty likely i’ll play that later and d and i will sing it – in great honor and loving memory of my uncle allen – a man for whom i am grateful, who is likely singing on the clouds, who generously encouraged soaring and playing among the stars.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

HELPING HANDS mixed media 53.5″ x 15.25″

happiest happy birthday to our beloved dogga. ❤️

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PRIDE. what’s not to love? [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

PRIDE. what’s not to love?

we went to chicago PRIDEFEST on saturday. it was in the 90s and a sweltering day. though we have taken the train countless times to chicago – and to the festival last year – we decided to drive down this time. we did not check the chicago cubs calendar first. yikes. the north halsted boystown area was a hot mess with the concurrence of cubs fans and PRIDE. so.many.cars. it literally took us an hour and a half to go just merely two miles to get to our son’s condo where he had saved us a parking spot.

we breathed a sigh of relief as we pulled into his alley, driving toward our parking spot…until…we saw that someone else had taken it. uh-oh. though we had planned lots of extra time, we now had 23 minutes until his performance on the waveland stage. i considered double-parking and rejected it, thinking littlebabyscion would be towed. clearly, we needed to go back out into the fray and find a spot. with our senses of humor still intact, we drove down the alley and exited back onto his road. somehow there was the miraculous appearance of a spot on his street…miraculous except for the signs everywhere that say “tow zone: no parking on cubs game days except with a parking permit”.

the four guys on the sidewalk in this boystown ‘hood were walking somewhere briskly when i jumped out of the car to ask them about the seriousness of the signage and parking, explaining the whole story and apologizing for telling the whole story (to which jordan kindly said, “it’s ok!!”). bryson – understanding the imperative of a mom getting to see her EDM artist son perform and notmissabeat – immediately told me he’d run back to his place and get me a temporary parking pass he had and no, i didn’t need to pay him anything at all. the generosity of these guys!! what’s not to love?

we parked and walked as fast as possible to the entrance our son suggested. the lines were astonishingly long but the security guard got us in quick as a flash when he heard our son was performing in four minutes. what’s not to love?

we found our way to the camera by the middle of the intersection – where our son had directed us. and we found ourselves surrounded by his friends, every one of them hugging us hello, an unparalleled warm community. his dear friend brought us a gatorade, another brought us a water, another – at the end of his performance – a canned adult beverage. what’s not to love?

we danced and visited and celebrated with thousands of others all smushed in to watch. our son’s friends – all so kind – wandered over again and again, checking in on us and hanging out. i gave out “be kind” buttons to anyone and everyone around. beachballs volleyed across the audience and PRIDE flags waved in the air. their set was amazing – the music kept everyone upbeat and happy. it was thrilling to watch – just like at milwaukee’s PRIDEFEST a couple weekends ago – where i took this photo from the VIP section where our son – since he was performing on the giant dance pavilion stage – made sure we were given access. i just don’t know what’s not to love about this.

although it is verrrrry unusual these days for me to wear a pair of shorts out and about if we aren’t hiking on some trail, i did anyway. because pride encourages people to be simply who they are. and every body shape and size and color is accepted and celebrated. i never had even one of those self-conscious “why did i wear this?” moments. even as likely one of the oldest people in the crowd, i felt completely included. what’s not to love?

i believe that even if i were not the mom of a gay son, i would still feel the same way. i believe that i would still completely support the LGBTQIA community. i believe i would still wonder – when i see others pushing back or curling their lips in disdain and exclusion – what’s not to love?

because i believe in love. i believe in loving one another. i believe in the most basic tenets – of kindness and generosity, peace and fairness and equality, respect and truth and – the big one – love.

and, though it shows a (disgusted) glitch in my own acceptance-of-others-meter, i have a really hard time understanding why anyone – on this good earth – would have the effrontery to not find acceptance-of-others part of life itself. who among us has that right? to eliminate others? to treat others less-than? to exclude because of a person’s gender identification or sexual orientation? “how does that even affect you?”, i wonder of those who marginalize LGBTQIA, who promote ‘anti’ ideology, who bully-pulpit, who hypocritically pontificate, who write or encourage or vote for laws or politicians that minimalize and restrict. without thinking. or sorting. or discerning. or checking in with their heart. i just don’t get it.

i was proud to go to PRIDE. i always will be. what’s not to love?

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

SURRENDER NOW mixed media 24″ x 24″

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on and on. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

the daisy might have thought no one would notice it. that it was past being noticed.

but i was drawn to it as we passed by. nestled in the grasses on the side of the trail, it spoke to me.

“i am not done, though look past my prime.

i am still in the sun, still standing in time.

though shrivelly and dried,

i don’t need to hide;

i know i am beauty and am very alive.”

i was surprised to hear a daisy speaking in rhyme, but not surprised at its expression of beauty, its yearning to be poetic.

i’m finding more and more – in my time in the sun now – that it is the poetry that makes me linger. it is the waning moment in the sun, the flower post-bloom, the cracked plaster, the weathered peel of paint. it is the imperfection that is attractive, the slowing gait, the putting-down of ladders, the simplicity of less.

like the daisy – i don’t know what’s next. i am steeped in the here. biding in the meadow.

but right now daisy’s yellow disc florets are in symphony – in a song to the sun and everyone else under the sky – whether or not anyone chooses to listen. it will continue on and on, weaving through the underbrush and the woods, past the river and up, up floating in clouds. it won’t cease…it is not done.

my song to the sun is gathering up energy. it, too, is not done. though nebulous, i can sense it wakening. though slightly beaten and weathered, i can feel it rising. though slower, i am aware of its resilience. though tentative, i recognize its imperative. the downbeat waits patiently.

a poem. a symphony.

like daisy.

on and on.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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ahead, ahead. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

when we sit on the deck – which we so often do – we look out onto our backyard. it is serene most of the time, a sanctuary for us – like a cozy private courtyard.

breck is growing by leaps and bounds. once again, we are surprised by this aspen tree’s response to spring. it is the happiest little aspen, filling out and getting taller. it practices quaking every day in the breezes that come off the lake or come in from the south or west. but sometimes, there are winds that are coming out of the plains states with much more power. and this young resilient aspen bends in its path. it worries us as we watch, wondering if we need to somehow stake this sapling, to help support it. we will likely go ask the good people at schwartz nursery – because they know. in the meanwhile, breck bends to the east when the gales come. we sit on the deck and, from that vantage, see it point to the right, nodding its trunk – “ahead, ahead,” it seems to say.

the almost-monochromatic of this photo appeals to me. there is more than meets the eye – these tones, movement in the background. i stopped to take a picture off-trail. i found the small green meadow strikingly beautiful. and there it was again – the response to the wind – bending, listing. “ahead, ahead.”

the messages come whether or not we notice them. they are all around us, tiny universe sticky-notes that flutter and attempt to attract our attention. we can ignore them if we wish. we can be too busy, too distracted, too engrossed, too stubborn, too riddled with our own schtuff.

or we can look at all the ways we are offered wisdoms. we can listen carefully as the sun rises or sets. we can see the greens in the green, the movement in the steady. we can rustle around in the world – aware of the air we breathe, the sun on the top of our heads, the cottonwood as it passes on the draft.

we can nod our heads in response to the wind – whatever the wind is for us – and whisper, “yes. ahead, ahead.”

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

DETERMINED mixed media 18″x36″

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pro-patina. [ kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

the solid wood door leading to the basement has a permanent arced groove worn into it. it’s where the chain (for the chain door guard) dangles and it has likely dangled there for decades upon decades. it’s been there the entire time i have lived here – so 35 years. likely installed long ago to prevent small children from opening the door and falling on the steep stairs, back and forth it has swung when unlatched, wearing off the paint and into the wood. it would take some serious spackle, some sanding and a few good coats of paint to make this door look like new again. but we won’t be doing that. it’s the patina that matters.

the old back screen door has a similar worn-in arc. that one is from when i installed a hook and eye latch on the door a number of years ago to help prevent our babycat from pushing open the door and exiting the house. because the old door handle doesn’t always completely catch, the hook and eye was a guarantee to keep the door closed. once again, the hook has worn off the paint and worn into the door. it’s not a pristine door, but it tells a story. the patina matters.

our house is like that. one patina after another. it is not new construction – or even relatively new construction. it will be 100 in just four years and i’m already thinking about its centennial birthday party. we are not worried if there is another scratch in the old wood floors or a glitch in the paint or an imperfect ceiling. our house is not unlike us that way.

the old building in breckenridge drew me closer, inviting photograph after photograph of textures, the juxtaposition of wood and metal and brick facades. this copper hinge – in its march through time – in the green oxidation stage – beautiful. though i suspect there might be people who would prefer restoring it back to its original glory, i prefer the mark of the passage of time, the nod to aging, the stories that accompany its transition. the patina counts.

we love to watch hgtv househunters and we love to pick up real estate magazines in distant places. it’s always the old houses that are the most intriguing for us. never the perfectly-perfect new houses with perfectly-perfect paint and perfectly-perfect trappings. it is difficult to visualize us in a house like that. i’m not sure what that says about us.

maybe by appreciating – and truly loving – the old stories, the wear and tear of these old houses – the arcs of time passing by – we’re just sticking up for our own personal patinas.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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