reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

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merely steps away. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

the breeze was decidedly heavenly, refreshing, a breath of fresh air.

it had been a while.

this summer – clearly in the midst of changing climate – has been a doozy. hot and humid and downright uncomfortable. it used to be that we’d ponder whether or not to place the window air conditioner units in the windows. we’d fuss and debate and look at the extended weather forecast, trying to decide if we could suffer through a few days or a week of sticky, knowing that wisconsin would reward us with a breezy sweep-through back into exceptional summer weather.

not this year.

it literally felt like it – the sticky – arrived. and never left. every morning i’d open the back door, step out on the deck and say aloud, “it smells like florida.” the fact that it also felt like florida made me want to get my money back from the wisconsin-summer for which i’d signed up.

in these days i am much less tolerant of the heat. me and dogga. and even d. all three of us, dogga’s tongue hanging out and all of us panting – it’s not a pretty picture. and so, we (the plural we, though it is most definitely the singular d) installed the window air conditioners. and, with WE-energies’-exponentially-rising-costs and caution to the wind, we ran them.

and then.

then the breeze shifted.

finally.

and, with great flip-flop glee, we started back walking our long ‘hood walks.

because merely steps away is this great big beautiful (oh, wait! i simply cannot use those words in that order anymore)…..merely steps away is this vast, stunning lake.

we feel lucky every time we walk along its edge. we feel lucky as the breeze wraps us in cool. we feel lucky at the harbor, at the beach, on the rocks, at the historic beachhouse where everyone gathered after our wedding. merely steps away is this reminder to breathe.

and so we stand there, staring at this lake like an old friend we’ve known for decades. and, just like people – filled with stories and layers and grief and bliss and tenderness and churning and color and monochrome – it’s always familiar and always an enigma – both.

the sun dipped below the west horizon, amping up the ombré of the east.

and arm in arm we walked home.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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hippies or not. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

whether or not this is true, i thought it was funny and i laughed when i saw the bumper sticker.

there is definitely a little hippie in the two of us….all right, more than a little. and i’m perfectly ok with that. particularly the part about wishing for a world centered on peace, love, social change and harmony. and the part about gender and racial equality. and the part about being a conscious consumer, about focusing on environmental wellness, awareness of the footprint of products and of, well, everything, about being accepting and open-minded. and the part about not being excessively materialistic or terribly mainstream or fixated on massive accumulation of wealth. and the part about believing in kindness.

yes. if those are the descriptors, then, i guess, the shoe fits.

and then i think of the opposite.

those wishing for a world that is dictatorial, with extremist and narrow views, centered on suspicion and hatred, bigotry, patriarchal mores, xenophobia. a world that is cavalier about its nonchalant environmental abuse, apathetic about the future impact from the footprint of its intentions, close-minded and exclusionary. a world that is rigid, isolationist, with self-serving restrictive inhumane tenets, competitively materialistic and skewed to the stratospheric haves. a world that believes in cruelty.

THAT shoe fits our current country.

and that’s not funny.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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do something. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

john pavlovitz wrote, “if tens of millions of people get up every day and do a small something, that’s a pretty damn powerful something.”

his wise words suggested to “leverage your life where you are” and that we are each gifted with “the proximity to need and the agency to alleviate it“.

his wise words helped the paralysis that we were feeling.

in these times of extreme chaos, it is easy to be overwhelmed and we have felt that just like many around us. it helped to be reminded about the power – the moving of mountains – of leading with the intention of good, of choosing even simple acts of kindness. doing something.

tens of millions of people could get up every day and do nothing. tens of millions of people could be complicit with the state of the country. tens of millions of people could be cold-hearted, could not care, could place their own needs first and foremost and singular. tens of millions of people could look away from the chaos and the cruelty, the lawlessness and the devastation upon others in their community. astonishingly, tens of millions of people are doing just that.

but there are other tens of millions of people who believe in something different, who are showing up, who are cutting through the noise, who are helping, who are trying to make a difference, who feel the imperative to do something.

and it all adds up.

to “damn powerful”.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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protect it. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

she said (words to the effect), “he’s worried that with all the politics and the chaos and everything else that is happening, fewer are paying attention to climate change.”

breck is growing by leaps and bounds, it seems. the top leaves are taller than the garage peak. it is both astounding and delightful, this little aspen tree.

because it has been an extraordinarily hot summer, i have watered breck consistently. last year the heat took a toll on breck and you could see it on stressed leaves so – between that and watching martijn watering his young trees on the youtube of his idyllic life in the mountains of italy – i decided it would be best to tend it more. breck has responded with glorious growth, rich verdant leafing, a bark that is appearing more white, quaking in every breeze, soaking up the attention.

and climate change continues.

because we are being expected to play along with the distraction games going on in our nation, our focus is being whipped from one manufactured disaster to another, with an attempt to keep our attention off all things horrific. because the current administration is gutting all things organic, all things scientific, all things that point to the intensified global warming that is caused by us humans – we will reap what we have sown and the already apocalyptic weather events will worsen. the damage is being done as we ping-pong back and forth between watching the gilding of the oval and the normalization of insane rhetoric, untruths of propaganda, a dying justice system, cruelty on the streets.

and climate change continues.

breck – in our backyard – dances when i water it with the watering wand. i can see it sigh with relief. just like, in particular, the basil and the sweet potato vine. the wilty jalapeño leaves immediately perk up, the cilantro ceases reclining in its pot. it doesn’t take much.

even as we love being right here – sharing space in our backyard with breck – we miss being out in the mountains. we feel at home there and yearn for a time to return. we know they will be there when we have a chance to make the trip.

we do, however, know that there is much happening out there. it is hotter, there are more wildfires and, hence, more mudslides. there is increased smoke at elevation, there is drought, there is risk for all wildlife and ecosystems. water availability is significantly stressed and pestilence is becoming more severe. erosion is accelerating with big-money-mongering efforts at more timber harvesting and various mining operations. the landscape is changing and we – as a species – are at fault.

meanwhile, the oval office and the colonnade are being tchotchked with gold – everywhere. the disrespect – of the people’s house, the people’s land, the people’s country, the people – is rampant.

there’s no reason to gild the lily of sea-to-shining-sea-america, the beautiful. it needs no ladening of gold, no tchotchkying of adornments. there is every single reason to protect it.

i’m pretty sure our mother earth would soak up the attention.

*****

WATERSHED © 2004 kerri sherwood

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read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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

“positive cultural change today (as it has always been) is about leveraging your life where you are: by doing small, possible, measurable daily acts of decency, of protest, of advocacy, of collaboration.” (john pavlovitz)

the bumper sticker read: “kindness is an act of defiance.“

in a country with an administration that is leading the way on trying to make people believe that kindness is weakness and wokeness and various other nouns, being kind seems an infinitely easy way to push back.

i have been astounded to see people i know and love spew words of hatred aligning with this administration’s mounting display of cruelty. it would seem that they have plucked kindness and decency out of their hearts. it is my hope that this plucking is not permanent. it is my hope that a vigor – to help people, to collaborate with people, to share rights and freedoms with all, to advocate for those who are in need – will return at some point. but cold hearts become rigid quickly and their version of defiance seems to be complicity with the authoritarian vision.

and so we sit on the deck with dogga and talk about it all. we talk about our own plans. we ponder how we might make a difference, besides writing and writing and writing. we copy lists of things that are needed by local non-profits and organizations aiding people. we sort needs and wants and prioritize as responsibly as we can.

and we wander around the backyard, looking at the phenomenal growth of our herbs, the tropical-like burst from the flowers and the grasses and the sweet potato plants. we are grateful for this tiny place of earth that is ours. even in our own lack and thriftiness, we are grateful for our own abundance. in our own tiny yard, we snip basil for homemade pizza, cilantro for chili, parsley for red pesto, tiny cherry tomatoes and jalapeño peppers.

we cook, we clean out, we give away. we hike, we photograph, we write. we pay attention to little details. we try to find the small, possible, measurable ways to create culture change.

to be where we are and be defiant.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

“HELPING HANDS” 53.5″ x 15.25″

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the tenacity of a soul. [kerri’s blog on flawed wednesday]

it continues to peel back. each rainstorm, each gust of wind, the ice and snow of winter, the baking hot sun…they all have impact. and the layers of barney keep peeling back. every iteration of this piano reveals its soul, a soul that never changes. despite disappearing obvious visual cues that say “piano” it is still a piano. the keys are virtually gone now, but remain, nevertheless, in essence. the stand that held music way earlier in this past century of its life has broken down. the sheen of lacquered varnish highlighting the grain of the wood has faded, melting into rays and raindrops. changed, barney is unchanged.

i wonder at the tenacity of such a soul. i wonder at the steadfastness of spirit. i wonder at how much more beautiful it continues to get – each and every day – despite all it has endured, all it endures.

there is a piano in our basement. it is my growing-up piano. it is a spinet, completely out of tune, even with itself. we had it moved down there and then built walls around the stairwell that turns and turns again, 90 degree angles making a complete 180. that piano may never be able to be moved back up those stairs. but if it could, i would bring it outside. the journey that barney has taken – with flowers and plants and chippies and squirrels – has only enhanced its real presence in the world. if i could, i would honor this old piano – this relic of my growing-up – with this same weathering of time.

though currently exponential, like most generations before us, we are living in a strange and scary time. the facade of our country is being peeled back. yet, what we are finding beneath this shiny well-lacquered veneer is not wholesome or all-american. as the soul of constitutional goodness is stripped – layer by layer, right by right, freedom by freedom – there is an ugly that is revealing itself.

when the keys are gone and the music stand is gone and the sheen is gone and the wood is splintering, falling into the garden to turn to mush, what will we find at the center of this country?

i fear it is not stalwart like barney. it is not getting more beautiful. its endurance is limited. changed, it will be changed.

and its soul will be lost.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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what we sow. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

the cosmos splashed across a bit of sidewalk were an invitation for attention. that color! instantly-happy-hot-pink.

she looked wary when i asked her if it was her house. she hesitated a moment and then answered, “yes, it is.”

we were passing by and, as is the case every time we pass by this house, we were charmed by the flowers out front, the porch, the cleverly colorful way the house is painted, the firepit in the front. it is just all delightful and so i told her, “we love it every single time we pass by.”

it wasn’t what she expected, i guess. she smiled, looking surprised, and thanked us, going back to watering her front garden.

and we walked on.

we are living in such trepidatious times. it seems much easier these days for people to say something negative to another person. we drive and blatant f*** you stickers are on vehicles, foul messages of rage and violence. it is clear that the bearers of these messages believe it is perfectly ok to display them to carloads of strangers – adults and children – with whom they are sharing the road. it’s disturbing. people have been given permission to be aggressive, to be filled with anger, to be vile to others.

and so, in light of all the rampant hostility, i realized – afterwards – that this young woman may have felt uncomfortable with my question “is this your house?” and i noted to myself to – next time – start with my compliment, “hi…we love this house every single time we pass by, so if it is yours i’d like you to know that.”

our town does a really spectacular job of flowers. there are stunning gardens in the parks by the harbor and beaches, pots of flowers hanging from the streetlights in downtown, in big planters on the sidewalk. they are all well taken care of and, from time to time, as we have passed people working in those gardens, we have thanked them. they always seem surprised.

i feel like we have fallen down on the job of being human when it is a surprise that someone is courteous, when it is a surprise to be complimented or treated kindly, when the expectation is first that of the possibility of pointed antagonism, when we succumb to spewing the loathsome and revolting rhetoric of hatred, divisiveness, bigotry.

we are what we sow.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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addling the addled. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

though i didn’t sign up for it, i receive emails from a source called uncover words. in the middle of the middle of all the chaos and destruction of this country, this is the word that i received one day recently: addle.

i could not help but grimace at the timing.

addle: to confuse or muddle; to make unable to think clearly.

gee…i wonder who that could describe.

might it be people who are being tossed around as if they are at the end of a crack-the-whip – flung from one inane or juicy-gossipy topic to another in an effort to cover up the really important things that are taking place in this country? might it be people who are absolutely and completely averse to fact-checking, to looking up anything that might distort their cultist admiring view of the current administration? might it be people who have been propagandized into sheer ignorance by watching a news channel that is overtly dedicated to the pedestalizing of this same administration? might it be people whose base anger has made them into spitting, spewing hate mongers? might it be people who react before thinking, who yell before talking, who see only red even when it brings harm to their very own families, people in their own communities?

to addle.

addled.

lost.

a second word in that email was maunder. maunder is a verb. it means to talk in a rambling manner, to wander aimlessly in speech or thought.

wow. that seems contemporaneously and politically connected to “addled”.

to maunder.

the addled.

to maunder to the addled.

to make the lost more lost.

hmmm.

a third word that came on that email was this: effulgence.

effulgence is a noun that is defined as: a brilliant radiance; a shining forth.

an auspicious word.

using that in a sentence:

let’s hope there is an effulgence that might awaken the addled among us.

yes.

otherwise, we are destined for this country’s democracy to be entirely mauled by a maunderer with a dedication to depraved darkness – the opposite of effulgence – while the shockingly addled stand by, complicit.

*****

read DAVID’s blog this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

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we do both. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

in true escapism fantasies we are either touring around in a tiny rv or we are hiking the pacific crest trail. both speak to us.

there is an obvious difference – the physical nature of the PCT is a tad bit more taxing than pulling a little rv around behind us.

in my dream, we do both.

and we never look at the news.

ever.

we just ride – or hike – off into the sunset, toting the minimum of stuff we need. we write, we paint, we compose, we take photographs. we drink coffee made over tiny ultralight stoves by streams and sip wine in canyonland blm sites. we hold witness to day in and day out.

we remember what is good, what is gloriously beautiful, what is real.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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moonglow. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

it was late night on the train platform. though we had walked from the station when we arrived, our boys dropped us off for the way back home. the train was a wee bit late and there were a few people on the platform waiting, some a bit impatiently. we were tired but not impatient, grateful to not be driving home from the city.

the clouds and the moon got together, plotting a bit of choreography. nearly full, this waxing gibbous was extraordinarily bright, backlighting the cotton balls of clouds passing in front of it. with wildfire smoke particles catching the light, an orange glow encircled the white moon peeking out, the glow much like the salt lamp emits in my studio. we stood on the platform, waiting for the train, completely captivated by the sky above us.

in recent days i have been reading old journals. journals almost fifty years old. these were the days when i passed through teenage years. when my days and nights were long and full of adventures: dancing at discos and early sunrise photo shoots, beach-camping and scuba diving, fishing and arboretums and county parks and apple-picking, skiing and my red round transistor radio on a picnic blanket. they were days of my little blue vw bug and growing-up-nuclear-family time, guitars and poetry, climbing trees and frisbee and term papers, bike hikes, the mall, my dog missi and a plethora of friends. i was often writing in my journal at 2am, wide-awake, reviewing my day, waxing poetic, loving life. it is a pilgrimage into the innocent.

my late-nights are different now, indeed, than way back when. sleep is now something i really adore, much more so than when the most minimal amount seemed – maybe – necessary.

because i am reading and reading and reading, i am feeling somewhat immersed in back-then.

these days i turn on the salt lamp that sits on the chifforobe. i don’t do it every day, but right now seems a good time for it as i hold space for the going-through of things of the past. from this vantage point – looking back – i know the shatter of innocence comes. the voice in my journal changes.

the glow stays with me as i pass by the studio door.

and now, as sleep eludes me at night, i lay under the quilt and gaze at the moon illuminating the blinds.

*****

IN THE NIGHT © 1997, 2000 kerri sherwood

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