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

for reasons we will not elaborate on, we are writing these blogs ahead. and, in true fashion of the times we are living in, there are zillions of things that have happened or are happening between now – as i write this – and now – as you read this. in the chaos in which we now exist, it is impossible to stay afloat of all of it…

because we care about the littlest creatures around us, we have several surfaces we line with birdseed, in addition to our birdfeeder. barney, the upright piano in our backyard, is one of them. another is our potting stand, these pieces of barnwood that stretch beyond our deck, sitting on metal piping, waiting for planting season when it will sport our basil and jalapeño, dill and chives, rosemary and cherry tomatoes.

our birdies love dining on these flat surfaces and gather together on the piano or the stand or off to the side, waiting their turn. the squirrels are zealous about these flat surfaces, as the birdfeeder gives them a tiny run for their money, a small challenge that is, however, most definitely not insurmountable. either way, they fill up to run off and provide food to the others.

we try to keep these surfaces with food, replenishing them to help these little creatures, particularly through the winter. we want them to feel abundance, not lack.

because helping others – people or creatures – to feel abundance seems like goodness, kindness, the right thing. and, in a world where we all unintentionally do things that are right and things that are wrong, it is a good thing to intentionally do some right things.

last week the administration of this country declared in unconscionable screeds that he was going to obliterate an entire civilization. that he was going to make them live in hell. there were moments – after that particular weekend of his screed – that i could not breathe.

in a really stunning opening to his show the night that the administration decided on a two week reprieve before reconsidering his big obliteration, lawrence o’donnell called it what it really was – an obliteration of OUR nation – THIS place – every ideal for which we have EVER stood. i could not agree more.

we sometimes intentionally do things that are wrong – start an argument, go over the speed limit, fail to put recycling in the correct bin. we sometimes unintentionally do things that are wrong – step on someone’s foot, push the grocery cart into the back of someone’s ankle, cuss in the wrong situation, cough suddenly without covering our mouth. most of these things are presumably forgivable, solved by apologies or decisions not to do it again. sometimes there are wrongs that are bigger, that require grace, true humility, olive leaf amends.

we sometimes intentionally do things that are right – give a bigger tip than recommended, donate money or food or other staples to a person, an organization, a pantry, help our neighbors, friends, family without being asked, pick up trash on the trail, listen when someone needs a listener. sometimes there are rights that are bigger, that are stunningly altruistic, that set examples.

we wish those around us to feel that we are generous in those things – the right things – that we hold abundant love and care for those around us.

we watched the rescued hearts film. it is an incredibly moving piece about the heart that horses hold in space with humans. with abundant love, these big, beautiful creatures reach across any boundary of language to extend love – in heart-opening abundance. these horses are catalysts for healing. it is not a film about control – it is a film about connection. it is a film about transformation. it is a film about sheer potentiality of what we – with all of nature – can provide each other.

this film is the antithesis of the threat of obliteration. it is not about lack. it is the epitome of abundance.

the rescued hearts film and this squirrel on our potting stand also make me catch my breath. because goodness is all around us.

and how anyone could not choose goodness over the worst cruelty is beyond me.

to hell with THAT.

*****

YOU MAKE A DIFFERENCE © 2002 kerri sherwood

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my jeans’ genes. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

these aren’t my favorite. i don’t regularly wear my favorite jeans, wanting to keep them “for good”.

but this pair is the runner-up. pretty distressed, these ripped jeans aren’t just a bit frayed. they are downright holey.

ai says that “ripped jeans are best for people with slim or skinny body types”. goodness gracious! i mean, who asked you? i would venture to say that if one wants to wear ripped jeans, one should just wear ripped jeans – without a pretty-little-head thought to whether ai thinks it’s appropriate or not.

i’ve been wearing these for years. decades, actually. some of the time it has been by accident. my jeans just got old and worn. some of the time it has been by design. i’ll never forget – and always cherish – the days at abercrombie with my then-teenage daughter, ferreting out the best ripped jeans on the sale rack.

i have worn ripped jeans to unimportant events and important events, to beautiful places and grocery stores. i have worn ripped jeans on high mountain tops, in midwest meadows, in paris, in the canyonlands. i have worn ripped jeans in recording studios and i wore ripped jeans at my wedding. i have performed on the smallest and biggest of stages wearing ripped jeans.

so, here we are, on my 67th birthday and it is likely i will be wearing my fave ripped jeans to go and do whatever it is we will go and do – unless it is hiking – because, as you know, i have to save my fave jeans “for good”. some other destructed denim will have to do.

there have been moments when i have looked in the mirror and pondered my jeans. (and yes, also, my genes, particularly as they are aging.)

i’ve wondered if mid-sixties was ‘getting there’ – there being a place where ripped, distressed, fraying, holey jeans might be better retired.

and – after some wondering, some pondering and a little bit of googling with downright obnoxious results – like this video narrated by a twenty-something guy – guy! – informing me that “women after 40 should not emphasize imperfections” – i have decided.

just like the amish leave a slipped stitch here and there in their quilts – to allow spirit in – and maybe for the same reason – i will continue to subscribe to the jeans i love to wear. perfection doesn’t exist and each quilt is an expression of beauty-in-that-moment, of artistry, of someone’s very soul, of the chutzpah of spirit. ditto my jeans.

so…if you don’t like my ripped jeans, don’t look at them. they are me and i’m just out here trying to emphasize my imperfections – especially now.

*****

IN A SPLIT SECOND © 2002 kerri sherwood

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waltz in the gazebo. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

we had the gazebo all to ourselves. it is likely that the tropical-storm-nor’easter had something to do with this. no one seemed inclined to be strolling about, nonetheless lingering on the gazebo.

so we danced. on the rain-soaked boards of this beautiful age-old gazebo, we waltzed to the music on my phone – the cherish the ladies instrumental if ever you were mine – the very piece we irish-waltzed at our wedding, surrounded by a circle of family and friends.

and on this dark starless night, with rain drifting in under the domed wood of the gazebo, it was not only magical. it was a little bit healing. it was sacred.

for here we were – both literally drenched – all alone on the gazebo of my youth – lifting the cellophane of the old magic slate – starting a new history.

just a couple people passed by in the park, walking the edges of the harbor. they paid no attention to our slow dancing. much is the way of new yorkers: you do you they imply.

we weren’t looking for an audience, so that was good. we were just sinking into the night – in the middle of the storm – in the middle of the storm.

and i could begin to feel the old break away a bit and new replace it as our feet got jumbled together in the waltz we hadn’t waltzed in a while.

i clicked play a second time, lifted the cellophane a second time.

just to make sure.

*****

SLOW DANCE © 2002 kerri sherwood

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and so should we. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

somehow, this tiny plant is surviving.

it’s growing. maybe even thriving.

in this moment, in this time, despite all the challenges it has faced, it is facing, it will face, despite all it does not know, it persists – growing in the top rail of the fence that spans the river.

this tiny plant is grabbing on to life. and living it.

and so should we.

*****

IN A SPLIT SECOND © 2002 kerri sherwood

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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

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overcoming adversity thrive in harsh conditions


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daisycup abundance. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

“it’s impossible to be lonely

when you’re zesting an orange.

scrape the soft rind once

and the whole room

fills with fruit.

look around: you have

more than enough.

always have.

you just didn’t notice

until now.”

(abundance – amy schmidt)

and the daisy turned skyward – cup-full. and as i passed, it reminded me of abundance and plenty.

for the measure of both abundance and plenty is not rigid. it is variable. my plenty is different than yours. and different expectations apply to abundance. it does not serve me well to gauge mine – my plenty, my abundance – by your standards. no, that comparison is not right. there are similarities. there are dissimilarities.

instead, i’ll look at the daisycup. i’ll set my face to the sun. i’ll count the times the dogga runs around the pond. i’ll gaze at the pussywillows on the white bathroom windowsill. i’ll savor the creak of old floors under my bare feet. i’ll tighten the back screen door handle. i’ll watch the house finches dine on grape jelly. i’ll feel his hand wrapped around mine.

we’ll go look for turtles from the bridge. we’ll clink glasses on the deck. we’ll listen to the wind in the chimes. we’ll paint rocks, write words and create big pots of soup. we’ll walk in sync on the sidewalk. we’ll make leftovers and serve them with happy napkins. we’ll relish time with family, with friends. we’ll make plans; we’ll revise plans. we’ll kiss goodnight.

because – when i notice – my daisycup is full.

with plenty.

abundance.

*****

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potatoes and teamwork. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

an unusual event, we went out for dinner. we had received a gift card as a present and were excited to use it, having saved it for some time. we had great anticipation.

when we walked in, the seating hostess was slammed. there was quite a crowd, yet this young lady maintained her grace and sense of humor, eventually leading us to a table for two. another young woman brought us glasses of water and placed menus in front of us. when our server came we ordered drinks and the bartender sent over two glasses of wine. we studied the menu carefully – trying to decide which of the dinners we would share – our practice – lingering on the salmon choices. we enjoyed our wine, chatting and watching the other diners in the small bistro and the young person who was bussing and cleaning the tables. the chefs in the kitchen prepared a lovely salmon, baked potato and fresh veggies just exactly the right al dente. we finished dining and, noting the crowd yet to be seated, decided to leave and give others a chance at sitting and enjoying a meal.

though i know – because it is as it is – there were defined roles in this restaurant and most definitely a laddered order of authority, it seemed to us, merely observers, that everyone was functioning with great collegiality and camaraderie. and, as observers, we appreciated that, for it made for a lovely dining experience. if we were able to see cracks in the foundation of employee genteel collaboration, it might have undermined the feeling of our dinner. if they were there, we were unaware. if so, i suspect they were able to work it all out, trust each other, rely on loyalty. it was a smoothly operating machine, despite the challenges of crowd and small space.

the thing that stood out for us – in that dining experience – was the obvious appreciation that each employee had for each other. there was no pointed ill will or jostling of power. they just worked together even though they might have been stressed. it is the power of allies, of a good team, the respectful valuing of each member of the team. they built a good team there – dedicated to the same mission.

i thought about our eating-out making dinner a few nights later. needing some good ole comfort food, we decided to “make us some mashed potatoes”.

so i started thinking about mashed potatoes – ours, simply potatoes and a little bit of salt and pepper, mashed with a potato masher. not the fancy-schmancy add-butter-milk-sourcream-cheese variety, you can’t get much simpler than ours. yet, they are a stalwart addition to any meal. a fluff of mashed potatoes flanked by veggies and maybe a veggie burger or a chicken breast. comfort indeed. no push-pull of power there. no agenda-jostling. just mashed potatoes. they don’t need special billing, yet they know their place in dinner is important. they feel the aretha franklin r-e-s-p-e-c-t.

and, there is nothing quite like that first forkful of mashed potatoes. the yum. it’s coming home on a plate.

i felt a funny rush of appreciation for mashed potatoes. we don’t think enough about the elements of our dinner, the workers in the restaurant, the people who add value, meaning, resonance, life to organizations to which we belong. we don’t ponder the integral nature of their existence on the plate, in the bistro, in the institution, how much we count on them. we don’t realize – until the grocery store is strangely out of potatoes – how much we depended upon them, their place on our dinner plate – or, by extension of these other examples – their hard work as we celebratorily dine out or their place in the soul of our organization.

sometimes, it’s the loss of potatoes that makes us miss potatoes. and then we wonder – after-the-fact – what can we do to make sure potatoes are always preserved, always available?

we thanked each of the workers and servers in the restaurant and we tipped well. we always do, no matter what. if tipping is not within our means, we will not go out. for the reason we are having the experience at all is because of the good work of those good people.

so – after my musing about mashed potatoes and teams of people – i’ll just say this: do not minimize the importance of mashed potatoes, the value of mashed potatoes. they are often the glue in a meal, and skin-on mashed potatoes are rich in fiber, low in calories, and have nutrients like vitamin c, potassium and vitamin b6.  all building-blocks.

and we all need good building-blocks. and a little respect.

*****

COUNT ON YOU from AS SURE AS THE SUN ©️ 2002 kerri sherwood – THIS SONG IS NOT JAZZ NOR DOES RUMBLEFISH OWN ANY PUBLISHING RIGHTS TO IT. THIS SONG IS 200% OWNED BY THE COMPOSER AND PERFORMING ARTIST KERRI SHERWOOD.

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rogue potato in parking lot

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200%. [k.s. friday]

i own 200% of my original pieces of music, my original songs. 100% of that is the compositional copyright and the other 100% is the sound recording copyright. with the exception of one vocal song which i collab’ed on, and one song where i gave my dueting partner a percentage for a few lyrics he changed, i have solely written each piece.

i did not find myself near the bluebird cafe in nashville or any of the listening rooms in nyc or los angeles when i was writing any of these albums. by the time i was writing for albums i would be recording, i was a mom of two small children, one a tiny toddler. my writing took place in the midst of potty-training and reading stacks of books, pbj’s and grilled cheese with the crust cut off. my growing-up piano was the instrument on which i wrote my first three albums, surrounded by barbies and matchbox cars, vhs tapes of barney and disney movies. i wrote with children on the bench, children under the bench, children on my lap.

in my most recent composing, a bit ago now, i still found myself writing this way…with many plates spinning and in short spurts of dedicated time. it was a practice i honed through the years and it served me well, this multi-tasking.

vocal song lyrics are found on scraps of paper, on pa-pads, on napkins, with letter names of notes and jotted rhythmic gestures next to the words. some of these took weeks of fine-tuning, changes and wordsmithing. others took ten minutes. total. slow dance is one of those.

the album as sure as the sun is one that celebrates life and love and relationship, in its many facets. after five instrumental albums (and another nine albums later) with the very best producer – also my arranger and a consummate musician – i worked with a nashville producer on this vocal full-length. in los angeles for some pre-recording meetings, we put the song same sweet love to pencil and paper, adding it to the lineup for asats production. it’s a totally different energy to collaborate on a song – to share the writing – and something i had little experience with. we both ended up singing on this song and we co-own it.

the very wide spectrum of love – and its impact, its mystery, its universally understoodness (and not-understoodness) – is one of the emotions to which songwriters gravitate. powerful and complex, there is no limit to reaching listeners, a strong connection the tie between music and emotions, a driving force.

i’ve read that a recent psychology of music study revealed that in every decade over the past six decades (since 1960), as much as 67% of all song lyrics were about romantic love. it’s not surprising.

when i do pick up pencil and paper again, looking at the line-up of songs already written for a potential next vocal album, i’d imagine that there may be some editing. i’d imagine that the arvo pärt note-smith will step into the instrumentals. i’d imagine that some lyrics will change in the line-up, maybe a melodic gesture or two, maybe the harmonic structure. i’d imagine that – maybe – in the review of these last years there might be a few new pieces, maybe a whole album’s worth of songs or instrumentals that muster their way past my editing delete-r.

i’d guess that there might be songs about transition, about relevance, about aging, about simplicity. i’d guess that there might be songs about hard decisions, hard times, hard losses. i’d guess that there might be songs about love, in all the corners of one’s life.

and i’d guess i’ll own 200%, back in my studio, comfortable writing alone.

*****

SLOW DANCE from AS SURE AS THE SUN ©️ 2002 kerri sherwood

SAME SWEET LOVE from AS SURE AS THE SUN ©️ 2022 kerri sherwood PLEASE NOTE: this song and this album are not jazz nor does rumblefish own any part of the copyright associated with this album.

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happy endings. [k.s. friday]

i am a fan of happy endings. i would guess that’s something on which we likely agree. i mean, who doesn’t love any sort of happy ending – quiet or gushy – any part of the happy spectrum.

and so, in the past couple of weeks – with people we love close-in struggling with serious issues – i want to linger in the happy ending. perspective has slapped us upside the head a few times over these weeks and, teetering a little on shaky ground, we are holding firmly to happy conclusions.

on days when hikes generate deep pondering or the dinner table yields questions about uncertainty, googling about things we know little, we tend to list to an evening of a little couch-sitting and a movie of choice that will – most definitely – have a happy ending.

this could be a hallmark movie. or it could be my big fat greek wedding, which makes us laugh every single time, dozens of times later. it could be about time or love actually or the proposal. it could be sweet home alabama or ps i love you or the family stone. the fuzzy purple zippy dvd holder is the keeper of our cherished movies and we can pick pretty much anything from it and sink into the couch cushions, sighing.

we don’t feel like we are sticking our heads into the sand. we don’t feel like we are fancying escapism (though who doesn’t?!). we don’t feel like we are pollyanna-ing our way into the lull of sleep. we are painfully aware of the precariousness of it all.

instead, we feel like we are reminding ourselves of the possibility. we are immersing in the potential of goodness. we are restoring that place inside from which we draw strength that we might pass on to others, the place from which we can hold others close, lift them up, ask the universe for grace and their healing.

we are taking a deep breath and seeking the happy ending. remembering that they do exist.

*****

FREEFALLIN’ IN LOVE ©️ 2002 kerri sherwood, sisu music productions inc. (Note: this is not jazz, nor does rumblefish own any copyright or publishing rights to this song.)

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draw of the microphone. [k.s. friday]

it’s been a minute since i’ve sung into a microphone. for that matter, i haven’t spoken into a microphone in a while either. i haven’t run cables or tested monitors, used earpieces or balanced sound in a space. i haven’t hung condenser mics over my piano or booms in front of the keyboard. no neumanns or shures, no audix.

it’s not like you forget, though.

we walked past the meadow off-trail and nature had clearly sent in her sound engineer. the meadow hawkweed microphones stood ready and able to amplify all the ambient sounds of the woods. it made me giggle a little thinking about these tiny microphone-like clusters soaking up all the noises around them, running them through some sort of nature-equalizer and tossing them back out through an invisible speaker system.

in every good venue sound system, decisions are made for each and every performance. tiny – sometimes barely perceptible – turns of the dials, slides of the sliders, mutes and unmutes all define what the listener will hear. in the best scenario, the listener hears sound as it really is, nothing distorted. in the best scenario, sound is pure, unadulterated, unfiltered, offered as true, crisp, present, full-frequency-range. the piano sounds luxurious; the voice rides above it. exquisite.

how would nature balance it all – the call of birds, the busy peeper-frogs, the wind in the high leaves of the forest, the wings of butterflies, the tease of chipmunks and squirrels in the underbrush, the crunch of human footfall, conversation, hushed tones of worry, laughter, breath. would nature pare down all tones of negativity, choosing instead to pan to the positive? or would nature allow for all of it – a cacophony of life as it exists in the moment?

the draw of the microphone is powerful. i wonder if the butterflies nearby felt it too.

*****

IN A SPLIT SECOND ©️ 2002 kerri sherwood – holding many dear ones so close in these moments…

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