reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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bluebell criers. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

as much as I’d like to – perhaps – write a post about historical town criers traveling town to town, city to city, ringing a bell and crying “hear ye, hear ye!” delivering important news for all to know….as much as i think it might be more effective than today’s mainstream media or social media or propaganda-filled decrees from the top down….as much as i think there are many, many people in the dark completely or in the dark catacombs of conspiracy theories….i will pass on this temptation and share – instead – that these virginia bluebells made me think of past years and years as a handbell director.

from my post and the handbells (july 2023): i’m not sure the handbells are played anymore. we had three octaves and a dedicated choir of players. it was the last rehearsal of the night – after choir, after ukulele band. by the time we got to handbells everyone was a little bit giddy. many of the bell players were also in ukulele band, so these amazing volunteers spent quite a bit of time in the choir room. 

playing handbells requires a bit of hand-eye coordination. you are reading music while you have this bell as an extension of your gloved hand…counting, counting and then…you thrust your wrist forward, allowing the clapper to strike the bell, hoping it’s at exactly the right moment. there are many evenings when laughter was the music we produced. as the director, i was always grateful for the generous collaboration of this group. and every time we played – from old hymns to gospel songs to contemporary pieces – it was beautiful. the bells would ring out into the high-ceilinged sanctuary and, i suspect, each player would marvel at their own contribution to such beauty, to such a particular lift of melody, of harmony.

if the handbells are silent now, i am sad. handbells harken back to the late 17th century and early 18th century and are considered percussion instruments. their sound is particularly unique, meditative in isolation, exuberant in chorus.

the virginia bluebells play in tutti every may over by the fence of the house that has signs about migratory butterflies and many butterfly-attracting plants. each early may when we pass this house on our ‘hood walk i photograph these early bloomers. and this may was no different. these stunners – excellent pollinators, particularly in their spring-is-springing appearance – were waiting, perfect flowers for bees and butterflies and hummingbirds. and really exquisite at being photographed – it’s like they beckon “hear ye, hear ye! take my picture!” and i comply.

clearly, they bring back memories of decades of the ringing of handbells and gleeful groups of people performing in laughter and collaboration with each other.

but, just as these flowers conjured up the quieted handbells in my mind, this year these tiny bells also made me think of the old town criers. it made me think of the utter importance – the imperative – of the spreading of true news, of honest reporting to the people, of virtuous dissemination of facts, of telling it like it – really – is.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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the unthinkable black and white. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

if we had looked only at the sky, it would have reinforced the black-and-white-photograph world we felt we were in. the sky was so november. but the photo was in color and, despite feeling differently to our core, the world was in technicolor.

the trail was mostly empty, which was a good thing. we needed to be there – our lack of hiking through interminable covid was taking a toll. exhausted from covid, exhausted from doing nothing, exhausted after doing anything.

and so the sky heightened our feeling – of walking in the black and white of this past week.

by now you know i am horrified by the election, by its results, by the actual people voting for these results. it cannot be clearer to me that there is a dividing line between me and those people who voted against my own family. it is black and white…that clear.

i’d like to go all maya/mlk jr./gandhi, heck, i’d like to go all jesus christ (“love one another; as i have loved you.” john 13:34). i suspect they would be just as horrified. quoting any of them as any kind of justification in or support of this horror story is hypocrisy.

because you have knowingly undermined the safety, security, the rights of my family, of people dear to me – and that’s pretty black and white to me. and i realize i can maybe love you, but not respect you, not want to be around you, not trust you or feel safe with you. your heart is different than i thought i knew. and i can’t pretend i don’t know or that it doesn’t matter. this – this – is becoming black and white to me.

love is a two-way street. turning your back on humanity is not love. the cruelty and immense intentional hardship you intentionally voted in for other people – yes PEOPLE – no better or lesser than you – is not love. hate, misogyny, racism, xenophobia, homophobia, transphobia are not love. fascism is not based on love – you have fallen prey to cultish, narrow, extreme, bullying, propaganda-laden thinking that is not – despite the whipped-up and warped misinformed disdain you express at the price of eggs, individual gender identification, compassionate social programs – definitely not – based on love.

i’m pretty sure that many are struggling with this right now. we are all out here, internally trying to figure out the unthinkable – how our families or friends have betrayed basic rights – values – upon which we thought we agreed. it’s unimaginably brutal and painful and hard to wrap our heads around. it is so very, very sad. but it is pretty black and white.

it’s november. i drag my eyes from the november sky – where i was beseeching the universe for answers. and i look beside the trail, where leaves are still turning and the deer wait as we approach.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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yeah. now what? [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

the monday-morning-armchair-quarterbacking is over the top. there is no one excuse for these election results. to be real, there cannot be enough reasons for the despicable – what the majority of voters voted for.

in the aftermath – afforded from even little to no doom-scrolling that highlights the absolute tsunami of finger-pointing, blaming, history-touting, policy-pummeling, we now see that the maga-voters voting for all the maga-sh*t did not quite understand what the maga-candidate’s maga-agenda really meant.

many of them had tuned into fox news where they learned – and clearly believed – things like people were eating other people’s dogs and cats and you could send your child to school and they would arrive home the opposite sex.

despite all the information to the contrary, they didn’t understand tariffs nor did they understand what “authoritarian” meant. they didn’t realize mass deportation meant their relatives.

and, worst of all, they poo-pooed any talk of the abject cruelties of project 2025, jumping on the he-doesn’t-really-mean-that-he-wouldn’t-really-do-that bandwagon.

weren’t they surprised when – post-election – all the maga-cronies paused very few milliseconds and posted what would amount to a naa-naa-nah-naa-naa, stating that it was the actual agenda all along.

adding fuel to the what-the-hell fire, “…catherine rampell and youyou zhou (washington post) showed before the election that voters overwhelmingly preferred harris’s policies to trump’s if they didn’t know which candidate proposed them.” (heather cox richardson – american historian, professor of history – boston college, previously MIT, university of massachusetts amherst )

if you don’t fact-check, if you don’t ask questions, if you don’t care about any potential work in the aisle or if the country’s democracy could be decimated, if you don’t worry your little head about character or details of a candidate’s experience or qualifications or with whom they choose to surround themselves, you have chosen to be a voter voting on whatever your rage is, you have voted to follow the lemmings off the cliff.

amanda marcotte (senior politics writer – salon) opined, “a lot of voters are profoundly ignorant. more so than in the past.” ya think??

so, yeah. now what?

i’m going to clean out my closet, take a hike, hydrate and try to breathe.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING


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pollen is pollen. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

“garden??? what garden???” with a particularly-yellow pollen-nose and infinitely sweet amber eyes, he looked at us – after trouncing through our dear westneighbors’ ragweed garden – and insisted, “i didn’t go in the garden!”

oh, dogga.

every time he goes on errands with us, it is his ritual to jump out of the car and beeline down the driveway to the ragweed by the fence. every single time. we expect it. this time – afterwards – it was just a tad bit more obvious. there was evidence. and, even with his i-didn’t-do-it-i-didnt-eat-the-cookie-out-of-the-cookie-jar bright-eyed and happy expression, there was no denying it.

we laughed and told him, “you can’t fool us, doggle-dog.”

despite his best effort at gaslighting us into thinking he had not trampled the raggy ragweed, there was evidence to the contrary. and – facts are facts.

now, surfing in on the facts-are-facts wave, i suppose i could launch into an entire political diatribe about what is happening in this election climate – how, apparently, gaslighting attempts are successfully taking over the good brains of people – despite, well, facts. how treacherous it is to believe hook-line-and-sinker the maga stuff that’s out there, the conspiracy theories undermining good sense, the outrageous lies keeping everyone distracted and placing people now – and in the future of this country – in danger. it’s all in plain sight. and it’s insanity.

but yellow is yellow. and pollen is pollen. it is easily identifiable. it is what it is. and when you see it, you know that the dog has been in the garden. no doubt about it.

*****

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

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