reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

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only forward. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

it’s time.

time to speak up. time to own what you have pondered, researched, debated, lost sleep over. time to honestly consider the choice and its true ramifications. time to think beyond yourself and reflect upon the legacy you are choosing. time to weigh in on the qualifications, the integrity, the character of the candidates. time to deliberate good and evil. time.

we have not remained silent. we have spoken and written and cartooned. we will continue to do so. because it is – indeed – time to take action.

our precious votes will not be squandered on a candidate whose sole focus is himself. they will not be spent on a man who lacks basic humanness, whose criminal and monstrous behaviors demonstrate his ambitions. they will not support a party that has eaten itself alive, that has become pistol-focused on autocracy, on mean-spiritedness, that would have the audacity to use name-calling and underhanded bitter tirades to represent itself. they will not be cast for a ticket that quashes the freedom of women and LGBTQ, that deliberately builds up the rich and ignores those in need, that slashes equality for race, gender, religion, orientation, that has intentional plans for undermining the life, liberty and pursuit of happiness of all in this country, all entering this country. these precious and important votes of ours will not buy into the repugnance of maga and its hideous scheme for the future. no.

instead, our votes – this opportunity, this responsibility, to participate in the future of the united states of america – will be cast with the honor and respect and diligence due them. they will be educated, considered, based on researched fact, leaning into joy and hope for future generations, looking toward light instead of bleak darkness.

there is no choice here. there is only one worthy candidate.

and though i would – with absolute certainty in my mind and heart – vote AGAINST maga, i, instead, will vote FOR the democratic ticket. i will vote FOR kamala harris and tim walz . i will vote for kindness and the community of this country. i will vote for democracy.

and i will take action each day to help the future of this country for us, for our daughter and son and their partners, for our friends and extended family regardless of their votes, for our town, our state, this nation and the world.

the choice is obvious. i am not going back to the stifling, suffocating, unconscionable ugliness of what we have seen – what we see – from maga.

i am going forward. only forward.

*****

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

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classics frenzy. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

it could easily put you in a frenzy.

technology – stuff – is like that. and we are surrounded by old technology and old stuff. now, don’t get me wrong. i’m not complaining. it’s just a fact. besides, i heard kamala loud and clear when she said, “don’t complain. dooo something about it!!”

and so, i do the workaround. it’s a bit like the electric shuffle, a mix-up of the hustle and the bump, maybe a little macarena-ish. it’s not a pretty mash, but it moves and shakes and gets it done.

a little over a week ago my laptop died. there is a grey folder with a question mark flashing when i turn it on. this is not good news for a macbook from 2008 – the year my girl graduated high school – and i immediately shut it down, in the hope that the next time i turn it on all will be well and it – personifying it, of course – will have forgotten its troubles and will simply get back to work.

in truth, i haven’t tried that yet.

i’m not anxious or excited about the outcome. well, to be fair, i am anxious, just not excited. i – listing heavily to optimistic – am hoping against hope that it will turn on and remember everything that would otherwise be lost. anxious. yes.

and so, in the meanwhile, i am typing on a mini ipad and trying to find creative ways to do what it is we do. so a little redundancy will have to work.

we have classic stuff.

our three vehicles (littlebabyscion, big red and my vw superbeetle) add up to 97 years old. my iphone is a 6, from the dark ages of 2016. this ipad is a mini2, only five years old but way past retiring. our tv is a non-smart late teen. it is as it is. and we totally make the best of it. not complaining, nope, nope.

i just know – in the middle of these workarounds – that there are those of you out there who get it. i wonder what it would be like to never have to figure things out, to never have to make it work, to never have to stand where you are and just be grateful and not wanting of more.

when i wash my hair today and tip the bottle, slapping the bottom of it over and over to get the last vestiges of shampoo out, i will think of my sweet momma and – apparently – kamala’s as well.

i’m thinking beaky and shyamala are visiting together on some other plane, maybe having sweet tea and, though they know we have plenty to complain about, watching us all dooo something – the best we can. and that, my dear friends, is classic.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING SMACK-DAB

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

“i go to nature to be soothed and healed, and to have my senses put in order.” (john burroughs)

to draw a paddle through silky water, to listen to the call and response of the loons, to feel the breeze off the lake and to catch the first and last glimmers of sun rising and dropping through the trees…it is completely unremarkable to say this is soothing, that these moments are healing. it is unremarkable because it is obvious, because these are so remarkable – each – and because our senses rise to these offers of peacefulness, to these opportunities for rejuvenation…every time.

we have viewed each night of the democratic national convention. the joy, the energy, the hope – they are palpable. to say that our nation needs all this is an unremarkable statement, because – of course – it is obvious. we need joy. we need energy. we need hope. we need this kind of light. we need to be soothed and healed. and we need our sense put in order.

it should be unremarkable to have – to own – this kind of hope and light and joy in this country. it should be a given. this is supposed to be the fruitful land of opportunity, a place of freedoms, a nation where – with goodness our north star – we may be who we are. and, when our senses are put in order, we remember this…each and every one of us.

when we are in chaos, when there are those wreaking ugly havoc, when division and mean-spiritedness are being stoked, when soothing and healing is far from the minds of those who wish to be leaders, it is a time we must rejuvenate our country. we must move forward, not back. we must seek the best in each other, aspire for unity, clutch onto fervent hope with all we’ve got, put our faces to the sun and get sensical.

because it should be obvious in these united states of america that democracy and freedom are the only choice, that kindness and loving one another is the way of life, that equality and acceptance and inclusion are undeterred, that sense – real sense – is in order. and that – in all its brilliant remarkableness – pointing out that those are fundamental to these united states of america is completely unremarkable. because it is obvious. because it is the way.

we drew the paddles of the canoe through the glassy water, exploring the crannies and coves of the lake. to say we were soothed, healed – even momentarily – from worries pummeling our minds, that we were able to return to our senses would be an unremarkable statement. obviously we were.

living in this country – as a place where peace and freedom and forward movement and opportunity and goodness toward each other abounds – should be as obvious.

please vote with your senses and sense in order. let us promise a soothing, healing, joyful, intelligent, abundant future to all who come behind us.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

JOY https://youtu.be/W2dYzgiepI0?si=Tg1qfsRWBHBmu2cz

(copyright 2005 kerri sherwood)

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the vote for together. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

we planned on being home to write this post. but littlebabyscion had different plans. so we are up-north and biding time to leave and journey home – a little later than we expected – so that we may be reassured by our friends’ presence following on the road behind us. we feel fortunate to have this support system. in the way i personify littlebabyscion, i’m guessing littlebabyscion feels slightly less stressed, a little less pressure knowing we won’t be alone. and we feel a little less stressed, a little less pressure with the gift of needed extra time from our 20, watching our home and our beloved dogga.

last night was the beginning of the democratic national convention in chicago. we all gathered in the cabin to watch it on tv together. the energy was palpable, the hope surging. we passed the tissue box around…each of us having emotional moments during the first night speeches.

freedom. democracy.

we’re not going back.

for the people.

USA.

together.

it’s the same messages as having your friends follow behind you as you limp home. only it’s on a national level. your brother’s/sister’s keeper…for one another…working together…

there is not anything i can imagine that would be better than an entire nation of people caring for one another, working together, solicitous, generous, kind.

i would hope that each person – responsible for their own vote – their own “prayer for the world we desire for ourselves and for our children” (sen. raphael warnock) would immerse themselves in real information, in the real character and integrity of what they wish for the future.

our lives are finite. we get this one go-around. to be surrounded by family and friends, a community, a country of people who care about the quality of that life, who lift each other up, who lead with kindness would seem to be infinitely more desirable than to be dragged down in ugly negativity, in a country divided, in a place where freedom-for-all has been decimated.

my prayer – as you are considering your vote – is to consider all the people.

do you want to be buoyed, to be held and cared about in this one life by a support system – people you know and people you don’t know – and to buoy others, to care and share with those who have less, to live in a nation that values each and every person?

if littlebabyscion – this tiny vehicle which has safely carried me 276,000 miles – this little xb that will require us to stop every hour or less on the many-hours drive home to add coolant – this gigantic piece in my own story – could vote? i would bet it would vote for together.

because, really, everything takes a village. even getting home.

*****

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

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pure magic. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

it was pure magic.

i had never been in a butterfly house before. the chicago botanic garden has such an exhibit right now and we saved it until last – after all the beautiful gardens and fresh air had zenned us out. if it is possible to sink further into zen than being enfolded in gloriously intentional blooming, this butterfly garden is it.

it isn’t a huge screen enclosure – and they allow limited people in at a time – but it is complete immersion in the magical. enchanting. for two artists who draw inspiration from the outdoors and its gorgeousness, we felt like we could have stayed there for hours.

butterflies were literally everywhere…on the plants, on the screen, on the path and – most delightfully – on us. the first moment a butterfly landed on us felt like you had been chosen for something uniquely special – this fragile creature with wings of scales and chitin (a fibrous protein) supported by a system of veins. nature, indeed. how is this kind of iridescence even possible?

only one other time – that i can remember – did a butterfly land on me. it was shortly after my big brother died and, as this butterfly flitted around me out front in an adirondack chair, i was convinced he was sending me a message. until it landed on me and hung out. then i was sure it was my brother, having converted his life energy temporarily into that of a butterfly. i was astounded and ever so grateful.

this time i was just in complete awe. i felt chosen as a few butterflies lighted on my hands or my arms, one at a time. i spoke quietly to each of them, thanking them for this incredible moment in time…a moment when i was reminded that we are all – butterflies and people – on this good earth together. we are all doing life the very best we can. we are all capable of gorgeous and of making another feel singled out and exceptional.

butterflies in this sanctuary just have to fly around and then land, their visit a thing of softness…a mica moment.

we – as people – can also lift someone, transport them into nirvana … in so many ways. we need remember that. our goodness is not winged, but – with our loving encouragement – others may fly. it’s all pure magic.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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revere real. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

three words stand out: weathered beauty. revered. a sign in the japanese garden section of the chicago botanic garden.

we walked around the 500 or so booths of the outdoor antique show held at the neighboring county fairgrounds. and we were drawn to the same kind of items, again and again. we are pretty consistent. we list to the things that are weathered.

it’s the tall peeling column we’d place in our living room somewhere near the peeling paint chunk of concrete that holds our iPod. it’s the galvanized metal work light on a tripod that would serve for reading in our sitting room somewhere near the old farm table, bits of barnwood showing through its white paint. it’s the old white porcelain coffee pot that would sit with the metal coffee pots on the shelf in our kitchen holding teabags. it’s the collection of glass doorknobs like every doorknob in our own home. we hold these things in esteem not because they are perfect, but because of their stories, because they are weathered, because they have patina, because they are real.

“you become. it takes a long time. that’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. but these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.” (the velveteen rabbit – margery williams)

in these times, it would seem that Real would count most, regardless of age or stage or any other categorizing of any sort at all. it would seem – in particular – that it be most important that we choose people around us who have become Real, who are Real. it would seem obvious – absolutely and entirely obvious – that is where truth is found, where respect is valued, where perspective is honed, where conversation is possible, where progress has potential.

we need be mindful of what we revere, of whom we revere, for there is much pretending, much misinformation and misrepresentation, much that is truly Ugly in this world. Real is sometimes difficult to discern and aligning with Real can make one vulnerable to the scorn of others.

but Real is, well, real.

“once you are Real you can’t become unreal again. it lasts for always.”

*****

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

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the lull. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

in this time – the lull – we will immerse in each moment. we will not tarry in angst nor indulge in everyday worries. we will step back from all of it. we will try to quiet our minds. we will simply be in it.

it’s like a pause. only not. because we are not paused; we are breathing and moving and appreciating – all in gratitude, intentionally slower, intentionally sans complexity, intentionally sans discord.

soon enough, there will be lists of things to do, to sort, to attend to, to concern ourselves with. things to decide, things for which we need muster courage or fortitude.

but for right now, for this bit of time, there is only the lull.

*****

listen to PEACE: https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=7T3pQmQrz4A

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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idris, richard, mark and ellsworth. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]o

we walked out of the parking garage and up the grassy hill to the path along the lakefront. a perfect day outside, we strolled as long as hunger allowed us and then we turned around, completely sated by art and fresh air, heading for the public market and bowls of gumbo at the fish market counter.

the idris khan exhibit “repeat after me” intrigued us. layers of digital repetition, scores of music sedimentarized into a single panel, stamped words superimposed on stamped words, scribbles on top of scribbles, it was surprising and fascinating. beautiful – seemingly blurry – images in larger-than-life scale, it felt an interesting statement of the concurrence of everything as it happens in this plane. in the collections of classic scores, words stood out to me: presto…poco rall (poco rallentando)…tempo markings…because he allowed them to be visible, i wondered if they were adjectives of his life then or just simply part of the music he was layering. i admonished myself then, aware of the overly analyzing curator mode to which i was succumbing. i remembered seeing christopher wool speak…the curator was going on and on about the psychological underpinnings of his work and he sloughed it all off – he was merely creating what he liked, what he felt he wished to express. art doesn’t always need to be analyzed – it is sometimes just your heart speaking out loud, on canvas, in image, in wet clay, in melody, in haunting harmony.

walking through this exhibit – from room too room- i was so aware of all the music books, sheets, scores in my own file cabinets. i kept thinking of ways i could incorporate all my collections into art pieces – for surely, there is little use for some of it otherwise and it will certainly go the way of recycling that millions of pages of music-on-paper have already. perhaps even an accent wall expanse papered with pages – the genius of composers gone before physically surrounding a studio space. the energy – sans the analysis.

idris khan called us. but, as always, *richard and mark and ellsworth* were there for us as well – steadfast and notoriously inspiring. we stopped by to say hello and they nodded the quintessential guy head-nod, barely discernible but a clear thank-you-for-always-stopping-by. we wouldn’t miss it.

we drove to have gumbo, hearts full and talking over each other about what we had seen. and then, the ride home was quieter, reflective and flush, revitalized.

*****

*favorites richard diebenkorn, mark rothko, ellsworth kelly

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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stunning, after all. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

the first. these are the first peppers we have ever grown and we are sort of stunned by them. because they are really real-live peppers!!

when we purchased the plants, they were on clearance at lowe’s. we bought our basil and parsley plants there and, as we wandered around – a tiny bit late in the early summer planting season – a few pepper plants spoke to us. on our potting stand are three pepper pots – a jalapeño, a red chili and this snack red pepper. because we are budget-conscious, we worried about the cost of failing. but, in the end, we thought it was worth the risk…this first attempt at pepper-growing. plus it helped that there were a few buds on the plants by the time we purchased them; it made us think that maybe we stood at least a chance of being successful.

and now…here we are. there are two jalapeños and multiple red snack peppers ready to be harvested and we are truly stunned. the red snacks and a jalapeño will become part of a meal we will share with 20 – stars in our fajitas. it will be a proud moment for us and we’ll be grateful for the amazement of growing our own food, just like we were with the batches of pesto (red and genovese) we made and froze last week.

we spent monday at the chicago botanic garden this week. each time we visit we are wowed by a different spot in the garden, a different grouping, a different extraordinary flower, beauty after beauty. david remarked about how much he loved the english walled garden. he said that if he were to build and plant a garden today he would plant a walled garden. i laughed and pointed out that our backyard is kind of like a walled garden. we don’t have the same level of order or discipline in our garden – for, along with our pond, there are ornamental grasses and peonies, ferns, day lilies and hosta planted slightly more haphazardly, but it is mostly walled in by the back and side fence, the garage serving as a perimeter. there is a privacy afforded, a quietness.

we sit at our bistro table or in our infamous adirondack chairs and watch our birds and squirrels and chippies. we share time and space and life with our dogga. and our barnwood potting stand – adjacent to the deck and the patio – is a place of tiny miracles.

we could have shied away from trying peppers, even at their discounted price. we could have worried that we would not bring them to fruition, that we would not be successful pepper-planters.

instead, we tried something new.

and these gloriously red peppers in tomorrow’s fajitas will remind us – once again – that life is there for the trying. it is not in the certainty of succeeding that we live. it is in risking. it is in anticipation. it is in mystery. it’s all really quite stunning, after all.

*****

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

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old knobs. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

the drawer-pulls on my old dresser clattered. they were a little bit fancy and made of brass and i can still hear them in my mind – a repetitive clack-clack-clack when i closed the drawer. it was one of those big six-drawer dressers, wide and low with a big mirror in the middle. it was maybe mahogany and in my growing-up house this girl’s dresser-hand-me-down from my sister sat on my orange and green shag rug before i moved it to my first apartment. it wasn’t grossly oversized but it had plenty of space…places for delicates and t-shirts, jeans and shorts and – astoundingly – nothing was wrinkly when i extracted things from the drawers. i think i remember moving it to florida and then, somewhere along the line, it went back to my sister…this time for her little girl.

ahhh…the joy of having a big dresser should not be underestimated. i haven’t had a dresser with six drawers since.

i think of lois every time i open the dresser i have now owned for almost forty years. when she took a teaching job overseas, she gave me this dresser. is is solid, standardly narrow and upright and has five drawers with giant big wooden knobs and i share it with david. as you might suspect, he gets one drawer and i get four. i would venture to say that you might be shuddering to think of trying to fit all your dresser-stuff into four drawers. (not to mention his in one, but, hey, he’s a boyyy so he has significantly less dresser-drawer stuff.). before you get all judge-y, keep in mind, too, we have old-house-closets. any accumulation of clothing – is a challenge.

we went to a giant antique flea market at a neighboring county fairgrounds. there were over 500 vendors and it was ridiculously fun to wander around, reminiscing and laughing at some pretty weird old stuff, some stuff we still have, some stuff about which we had great stories to tell. as you know, antiquing is one of our favorite pastimes and being outdoors and antiquing together…well, a fine pairing.

when i came across the big bin of knobs, i could actually feel them in my hand without even touching them. they were smooth with history and the hands of all who tugged on them, the wood worn and any finish gone. as i stood there looking at them, i could not help but think of all the cabinets or dressers they graced in all their years. i thought about all the ways they have been replaced – contemporized – and the possibility that the pieces they came from – the chifferobe, the cupboard, the desk – may have been disposed of.

in all the years that i have had my dear friend’s dresser, i have thought many times about painting it, redoing it, replacing it, at the least, re-knobbing. i never did any of that. it’s still the same old dresser.

i can’t imagine how many stories this old dresser has in it. just like the dresser up in my son’s room – a hand-me-down from miss peggy from next door thirty plus years ago – i wonder how old these dressers are.

mostly i wonder about the hands that have touched this old knobs. like all the old doorknobs in our house, i see these as diligent and sturdy; they have done their jobs year after year, decade after decade.

the history just danced in the box in front of me. so much potential. so many drawers and doors. i thought about who might purchase that box of knobs, where the old knobs would end up.

and i was suddenly glad that I hadn’t changed the ones on our dresser.

*****

read david’s thoughts this two-artists-tuesday

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