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good question. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

though not as existential as ‘what is the purpose of life?’, when i read this question – “what’s the purpose of a blog?” – in our website email i admit to sitting and staring at it for awhile. good question.

since you are reading this, you must find some value in a blog. somehow it must resonate with you. something we are saying must find a spot to linger a moment in your mind or heart. or maybe we are dear to each other and you are staying in touch – albeit virtually – with what’s going on in our lives. maybe we have never met but you are walking this path of living for this period of time with me, with us. i’m not sure why you have clicked on this, but i am curious and, mostly, i am grateful.

this is part of what i wrote back to the question:

“we originally published our mutual website and blogs as a way to draw attention to our varied artistries.  david is a painter and writer and i – well, you know.“ (the question was posed by a person who was quite instrumental with encouragement for my first full-length original solo piano album.)  “but i was also doing a lot of writing (the written word) and we developed several cartoons and products.  it was a mélange of artistic mediums, hence the name – the mélange.

as you know, being an artist presents many challenges, not the least of which is to earn money.  people turn to the arts for sustenance, for comfort, for reassurance, for insight, to celebrate their bliss.  but, as in the music world, for example, that is often derived via “free” formats…formats that pay the artists little to nothing:  spotify, pandora, apple music etc.  in an effort to hold true to our artistries, our site – developed a few years ago – combined all of what we do under the bigger umbrella of ‘the arts’ and put it out there. 

theoretically, the purpose of a blog is to draw attention to product, to establish credibility, to perhaps be inspiring, to share thoughts, to form a community, to connect with like and not like-minded people, to ask questions, to drive engagement, to repurpose old content that still has life to live. 

our blogs are read in over 80 countries – according to the stats.  it’s a delight to see that anyone at all is reading what i or david have to say.  even better is when they share content – outside our concentric circle – that means something to them or respond because something we said or posted or generated resonated with them.

many artists (and others) blog or vlog (video blog) now.  they include ways to help support them.  in our case, we have a BuyMeACoffee link (that’s the QR code on the blog pages) which is like a tip-jar website.  others have patreon which is a subscription to which people can sign up and regularly support the continuing creating of artists whose work they value.  it is simply an effort to continue to be artists in a financial world that doesn’t value artists in a financial way.   sigh.  with the encouragement of others, we will likely open a patreon account one of these days. 

david and i sit and write each morning together.  we choose images for the week and post them.  then we sit – side by side with our laptops – and write our blogposts, not peeking or sharing until we are done.  this process is truly meaningful to us and brings great joy as we read what the image has brought up for each of us – often quite different.  david is much more esoteric than i am and my blogposts are usually thready, really from the heart.  it’s a good balance, particularly in relationship.”

so, what’s the purpose?

the person who posed this question is an actuary. i suspect that a blog seems somewhat frivolous to them, maybe even out of the realm of pragmatic, certainly not sustaining or financially rewarding. and – though having millions of followers or subscribers could be very lucrative – i suppose all those other points could be true. and yet, there is this imperative we both feel – to write – that we answer, each and every day. it’s both the blessing and the curse of being an artist.

i can’t imagine that there are readers who read each and every of our six-days-a-week postings. but to think that someone in a different US time zone, in africa, in south america, in the EU or indonesia or the middle east or australia or canada or ukraine is sitting with coffee and taking time to read my words is humbling. it’s how i feel about listeners spinning my music. the same. humbling. shy of being in the same room with me or having some kind of live exchange or sharing time together, my music and my words are the closest you can get to me, to what i am thinking or feeling, questions i am trying to answer, the way i parse out what it means to live. it is relationship on the relationship target circle – the circle a couple circles in, where you are not only acknowledging existence, but you are paying attention, responding, even if silently. 

we don’t know what would happen if we stopped writing. all of sudden – boom! – full stop! we don’t know if there are those people who would miss these ramblings. we don’t know if there are those people who might just notice, a tad regretfully, our blogs were no longer there. we do know there are those people who would never even know we were gone. it’s a funny thing. and as an artist you must be careful not to let ego and its attention-seeking behavior stand in your way. you just keep on. until you stop. and then, because imperative is – after all – imperative, you do something else. artistry is a living and breathing thing.

i hardly think that the words i write are gloriously wise or the smidgiest-bit funny or new thoughts in an old universe. i just know they are uniquely mine and, for some crazy reason, i am open to being vulnerable enough to share them. 

maybe one day you and i will have a conversation about this. and you might be able to tell me what the purpose is of writing a blog.

*****

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

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your estimated wait time. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

it’s a true story. 

so yesterday, in an effort to save the social-security-signing-up-for-medicare office some time, i tried to cancel an appointment with them. i had already accomplished what i needed online and i wanted them to be able to satisfy another customer’s needs. 

i looked all over on their site for a way to cancel this appointment. nothing. nowhere to cancel. 

but on the letter (which i received in real life as well as online) there was a phone number. 

thinking that there would be an “option” to choose to cancel appointments, i dialed up.

nope. no option for canceling.

just an option for appointments.

“one hour and fifty minutes,” the pleasantly-recorded bad news said.

i started to stay on hold. put my phone on speaker and laid it next to me. 

but i have other things to do. and an hour and fifty minutes to sit on hold in an effort to cancel a phone appointment with them is a tad bit – well – ridiculous. i was just trying to be nice, responsible, aware…you know, all those adjectives about being a good customer, a good citizen, a good fellow-almost-medicare person who knows that other people have questions too and these departments are overrun and that it took me two full months to get this appointment and i would like someone else to be the happy recipient of it.

whatever.

i hung up.

today, when they call, i’ll suggest that they find a way to make it easier to cancel an appointment.

because – doggonit – i’m almost 65 and my time is worth something too.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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that air. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

i could feel it as we entered the woods. even in the cold. even on a mucky trail. especially in the damp fog. it wrapped around me, my body relaxed and i could breathe. 

we are in the middle of a lot. like you, life swirls and dips and is taking us places we didn’t expect. like you, we don’t sign up for the angsts, the challenges, the aloneness of some of it. but it is there, nevertheless. 

it’s in those times – in the fermatas of those times – that we need be in the cathedral. for us, that means stepping into the bowed trees in this forest, their very branches arching over us. for us, that means walking, hiking, trekking in the quiet. it’s then that i can hear.

and perspective – arriving on glorious air – reminds me. of my smallness in all of this. of an imperative to not take every single thing personally. of release and of healing in the mist. of a bigger presence that is indeed wrapping around me. and is always there. silently tapping my shoulder. 

i step into the trees and i instantly can feel it – that this is the only day. i can throw it away, like i often have – for we all forget. or i can immerse in it. knowing it is now. 

i can’t change – so much – what is. i can’t affect – so much – what will come. i certainly can’t transform what was. and all of that will be waiting for me, after the trail, post-cathedral.

but i’m slowly learning – ever-so-slowly – how to stand in it all. i’m learning how to accept it, how to move in it, how to move through it, how to get to next. sometimes.

the bigger picture – under the cathedral of sky – gives me air and every now and then – just in the nick of time – interrupts my moment of worry and chastens me to feel the right now. 

that air is always with us – the exhale of wise old trees and the stardust of those before us. 

*****

ALWAYS WITH US from AS IT IS ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood

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read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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lace in the snow. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

it is in much the same way that arvo pärt appeals to me that this photograph is a win for me. it’s simple – a stem of queen anne’s lace, fallen on the side of the trail, iced in. i felt lucky to come upon such a shot.

one of these days we are going to take a trip – later than sooner, i suspect.  it will be solely for the opportunity to take photographs. we haven’t yet decided on a place, but it doesn’t matter too much – there are photographs everywhere just waiting. like this lace in the snow.

taking photographs reminds us to slow down. it’s impossible to trek fast if i have a camera in my hand. in the rare times i have left it in my bag ahead of time, planning to get a better workout, i inevitably stop and extract it – something has captured my attention, something needs to be on film.

ever since my first 35mm yashica i’ve been the one with the camera. there are big chunks of life where it looks like i wasn’t there. those are the times i was taking the pictures. very much there, just not in the frame. now i wish i had handed off the camera to someone else more – asking for a few more pictures in which i was present.

selfies have taken over today’s social media world. i must say, a selfie at 25 or 35 or even 45 looks waaay different than a selfie at almost-65. i am not a fan. unless of course it can be soft-focus, backlit, and overexposed. in that case, i’m in. otherwise, i want a photo to be taken from a bit further away than the end of my arm.

i continue to wander around with my camera…stopping often on the trail, pulling off to the side of the road in littlebabyscion or big red, grabbing photos of ideas in antique shoppes and boutiques, annoyingly taking candids and posed shots of my grown children when i am near them. i have about 35,000 photos on two iphones, but that doesn’t touch the grand total. 

some photos are obvious – all the tourists gather there, every visitor taking a picture of the iconic whatever-it-is. some photos are obvious – we want remembrances of times spent together, celebrations, festive occasions. some photos are obvious – we portrait our families, we feature our growing children, we capture our pets in everything silly or heartstrung. we photograph the beautiful, the magnificent, the moment-in-time.

and some photos…well, some are a bit more subtle. they are the shadows of the tall trees. they are the tiny birdfeet prints. they are the curl of the petal, about to fall. they are the dew on the grass, the horizon lost in fog, the patterns of an old brick wall. they are the nurselog, the feather, the breaking wave, the caterpillar. and they are lace in the snow. all just waiting to be seen.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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in this circle. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

as i write this, it’s been weeks since we have hiked. i am feeling the tug. despite how sloppy it is likely to be, we really need to get out there – in the woods – and feel the cold, damp air on our faces.

we have been in the basement these days. during the negative-whatevers, the snowstorms, the dense fogs, the rain, we have immersed in the boxes and bins and tchotchkes of life. minus the occasional spider and mouse poop trail, it has been mostly joyful. to touch these things of life again is a gift of memory.

as we sort i can feel the house breathing. now, i have actually been in and seen a hoarder’s house, so i know that there is no comparison whatsoever, but the advent of space is refreshing. i realize that this paring-down will require a few passes – this is the first big pass – but now that we have started, it doesn’t seem as insurmountable. the reward for fortitude in the cleaning-out is the zeal to continue. it’s a circle. 

i am making every attempt to be more ruthless in this process, in this circle. but it is a passage through time and life and my fingertips are tingling, touching the first onesie sleepers and those little booties, the tiny oshkosh b’gosh overalls and even tinier bibs. then there’s my sweet momma’s wedding dress and my poppo’s air force “ike” jacket. silk flowers and fold-out honeycomb crepe bells from my first wedding. cabbage patch dolls and children’s books and matchbox cars. 1970s cassettes i listened to over and over and over. reel to reel, cassettes and cds of my recording studio takes and edits, tracks along the way. my report cards from the beginning of time. this process is not as easy as it’s made out to be. but it’s necessary. 

and, also necessary, is the call-response of the outside. we need to go out in the trees. we need to hike by the river and follow the deer tracks. we need to feel breathless from the wind and overheated by exertion. we need the balance. in this circle.

so we’ll put down the marketplace ads, the bins and big ikea bags holding donations, the cleaning supplies and our yuckiest clothes and we’ll go outside. 

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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buymeacoffee is a tip-jar website where you may choose to help support the continuing creating of artists whose work resonates with you. xoxo


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you are a tree. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

it can’t be easy to be the lone tree in a big, big farmfield. the wind will batter you. the sun will parch you. the snow and ice will pile next to your trunk and bend your limbs down low. the rain will pummel you. you will be tested and you must be steadfast. your very presence may be questioned; it would be easier to plow straight lines than to plow around you. 

but consider this: the birds will flock to you. any creatures needing shade or shelter will curl up under your canopy. you will exhale clean oxygen. and wildflowers and grasses will grow at your base. you will interrupt the horizon line with your very beautiful tree shape. you will give visual perspective to the vast fields.

and so you stand there – alone. ready to greet the next day and the next. despite it all. 

you know it would be easier if there were other trees standing with you – perhaps a simple stand of trees or maybe a small woods or forest. you know it would be easier if there were even just one other bush or plant holding vigil with you in the big field. you know it would be easier if the west winds would not assail you, you with nothing to block their assault.

and even if the elements push on you, if the farmer ponders your value, if the aloneness feels void of hope, you keep standing. 

because you know that you are a tree and that your truth matters and that your presence counts.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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bear witness. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

“people start to heal the moment they feel heard.” (cheryl richardson)

it is not likely we always know. moments when people are sharing something with us – something raw, something of import, something life-changing. no, we don’t always know. because these things of significance – along with great gravitas – don’t always come with drumrolls or prologue announcements. they are stammered out, with some reticence and a side of fear. and we have a choice – an opportunity – as someone standing nearby or walking alongside, someone close-in or someone peripheral. it matters not – in humankind – our interconnectivity supersedes our concentric circle.

as we stand – in the fire – with someone who is sharing, our presence acknowledges their pain, their angst, their experience, their feelings. our being-there shines light into dark, into the fog.

in our indifference, we yield great power to hurt others, to walk on, to overtly turn our attention away from the sharer, to underplay this very part of their journey they wish to share.

she said, ” it is vitally important how those around react to the news of trauma, for that is powerfully profound in how a person heals.” both the overt overlooker and the covert minimizer add to the burden one is already carrying, the burden that will likely be buried further and further inside – more and more difficult to excavate, heal and release.

instead, we can choose not to perpetuate the pain of others. and they can aid us in transforming the place where our own pain may be held. we can each reach beyond silence – for the other. we can hover with each other and offer wisps of hope.

we can bear witness. 

it doesn’t take much. we are all together in this big world – full of the potential not only to delight us but to devastate us. we walk together. we can support others in feeling heard. it’s really the least we can do: listen. really listen.  

*****

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

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buymeacoffee acts as a simple tip-jar where you may choose to help support artists whose work resonates with you. xoxo


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stuff you just don’t realize. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

we did a triple-feature of romance movies last night. friday-night-date-night. it was cold and rainy, too foggy and dismal to go anywhere. we ordered fried rice and eggrolls and poured a little wine, settling in for a cozy under-the-blanket viewing.

there are sometimes these moments – moments when you just realize that you didn’t realize. last night was one of them.

after the guy told the girl that the other guy had done “a take” – and after we figured out what the term actually meant – i looked over at d and asked him if he ever did that, ever does that – a take – of me. his answer brought tears to my eyes. 

stuff you just don’t realize. 

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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buymeacoffee is a tip-jar website where you may support the continuing creating of artists whose work touches you. xo


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

last night i decided that our version of contentment is different than others’ versions of contentment. our bar is lower. definitely lower.

and i’m content with that.

it doesn’t really take much to amuse us. we aren’t big retail shoppers or cruise people or fine dining connoisseurs. we don’t belong to “the club” or drive fancy cars or reserve lodging at all-inclusives. a bit of frenetic goes a long way. but everyone has their thing and everyone has their bar – set at where they feel like they have “reached it” or – at the very least – the “there” to which they are headed. for some, that bar is really meaningful.

we, on the other hand, are moseying around, meandering, checking in on the horizon from time to time. there is no artificial or competitive bar to beat ourselves up over. and tonight, i suddenly realized that i’m ok with that.

my sweet momma taught me long ago how to make something out of nothing – how to make adventures out of the mundane, how to make special that which is ordinary. it wasn’t like she – with chalk and a chalkboard and books of exercises on gratitude – taught lessons. instead, it was just simply watching her. she didn’t require a lot. i don’t remember her having shopping sprees or demanding anything spectacular for vacation. even her cooking was simple: she was a frozen-veggie person, having converted from canned veggies. i don’t remember red peppers from growing up. i don’t remember real garlic cloves or avocado. i do remember her roast beef and i can still picture the index sized recipe card titled “a decidedly delicious way to roast beef” – a simple recipe for which she was well-known. and i remember her lemon pudding cake. we didn’t go to restaurants but for very special times in those growing-up years. she didn’t try to entertain me or over-schedule me. 

and so i feel like i learned early that life is what you make it and dreams can be any size you wish. 

for out that window – in the big ole world – there are many rungs in that great big ladder of life. neither of my parents seemed to really concern themselves with those rungs, that ever-rising bar. they just were who they were and they made the most of that.

in the days and weeks and months and years that have gone by since both my momma and poppo transitioned to the next plane over, there haven’t been times that i – one of the few people who would truly – really-truly – care about them and the details of their lives – have wondered about their work, their jobs, their salary, their retirement plans, their investments, their titles or certificates of merit, accolades of their careers or even the stuff they owned. i haven’t given thought to their bar or whether or not they achieved “it”. 

what i have thought about is the contentment i saw on my momma’s face when her family walked in the door, the sparkle in my dad’s eyes. what i have thought about is the smell of coffee first thing in the morning and sitting at their kitchen table, just talking about whatever. what i have thought about is their generosity of spirit – giving to others in need whatever they had. what i have thought about is their loving support of their children. i’ve thought about the stink-eye of my mom and the grin of my dad. i’ve thought about hearing the words “my sweet potato” and “brat” from their lips. i’ve thought about stories and chocolate ganache cake, egg mcarnsons and cold homemade french fries. nothing too complicated, nothing striding up and over the bar.

and so i guess i come to it honestly, this contentment. keeping expectations in check and appreciating the tiniest things make every single thing that happens count. i am ticking these off on fingers and toes, not in mutual funds and bonds and annual passes and the latest models – for those are someone else’s contentment.

i won’t say no to goodness as it shows up. i will tuck it in with us. and i will keep my eyes on the horizon, even as we wander, lingering and moving on.

and in the moments that follow this great big life i know that none of this will matter: my gpa, the degrees on my wall or stashed in a bin, the bank account or the vault with jewelry, the car in the driveway or even the cds – with my name on them – in stacks of boxes in the basement. what i hope will matter is the look of contentment on my face – standing in a warm old house gazing out the ice-flaked window knowing – simply – what it feels like to love and to be loved. what i hope to leave is that it really doesn’t take much to be content and to make the most of it.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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buymeacoffee is a simple tip-jar website where you may choose to support the continuing creating of artists whose work resonates with you. xoxo


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beauty and the beast. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

it’s days later and the turkeypoop is frozen to the top of littlebabyscion. it’s negative-something outside, so this is not likely to change soon. turkeypoop is of significant size. we are looking at it as a blessing of some sort.

we have three turkeys wandering the ‘hood these days. forest park neighborhood had carl but now allendale has these three – maybe huey, dewey and louie? 

they are big – really big – turkeys and they draw attention wherever they go. and…they go anywhere they want…

…including on top of littlebabyscion.

our westneighbor texted us, “umm, are you guys having turkey tonight?”. i was perplexed until i saw a photo he sent. two of them, comfortably perched on top of our car, the third turkey in the driveway next to it. what?!! 

we ran to the window in the studio to look out and, sure enough, there they were, up on the roof. once the snow melts, it is likely there will be beak-pecks in the roof as well – they were busy pecking each time i looked out. the turkey in the driveway was literally below the window, looking up as if to ask to be let in – much the same expression dogga gets on his face as he gazes in the back window from the back deck, willing us to let him in please and let him in nowww. 

it was already going to be an odd moment. i was selling an item on marketplace and a perfect stranger was coming to our house to purchase it. now, here we are, three turkeys on the way to the front door. she was arriving any minute. i asked d to go out when she arrived so that he might escort her in since we don’t know what exactly turkeys will do if they feel encroached upon. 

it turns out she was from the forest park neighborhood so she wasn’t alarmed; carl had been a presence there for quite some time. everybody loved him and she did too. our turkeys were still there when she left and they stayed for quite some time. with the negative temperatures, there was a tiny bit of a windblock between our house and our neighbor’s house so maybe they were trying to warm up just a smidge. 

eventually, they apparently flew off littlebabyscion to head down the road. we missed them for the last couple days until yesterday when they were out on our street again. they must be making the rounds, looking for whatever it is turkeys eat. i’m thinking we should put out some sunflower seeds – to help them along. with these negative temps, we are all worried, but i’ve read the thousands of feathers they have will truly keep them warm. 

when our daughter was in the high rockies, she would tell us of stories of bears getting into people’s vehicles. somehow they are able to simply open the door and get in. it’s the getting out that’s the problem – if the door swings shut they are apt to utterly destroy the interior of the vehicle they have chosen. she and i went horsebackriding with a cowboy who’d been in aspen forever and told great stories. in one of his odd jobs, he was a caretaker for a mansion tucked into the mountains there. when the owners were away a bear got inside and foraged in the kitchen cabinets. it then went upstairs and turned on the water faucet in the bathroom. in true naughty bear behavior (who can really blame them – we are taking over all their wild land!), it never turned it off. so, a week later – during a house check – the caretaker discovered water everywhere, on every floor of the house, the depth ever-rising from the basement up. it was a gut-job for sure.

and so, the turkeypoop and turkeypecks on the roof of littlebabyscion don’t seem so bad. if we are going to co-exist with these stunning creatures, then we must allow for all of it. their beauty and their beast.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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