are we talking about payback here? i prefer to try to live life with pay-it-forward thinking. but hey, on some level, i can relate to these ants.
living in wisconsin and having chased about a zillion of them around the kitchen last night, what i really want to know is – what do mosquitoes dream?
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when ants dream… ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood
“..but i look up high to see only the light, and never look down to see my shadow. this is a wisdom which man must learn.” (song of the flower by kahlil gibran)
in these times…times of division…times of marginalizing…times of anger perpetuating anger…times of disrespect…times of hopelessness…we implore each other, our universe, our God – for answers, for fairness, for unity, for peace among all persons.
as the flower, we look up and see the light. knowing the shadows are there, but believing that the light overcomes them. for as the sun moves, so do the shadows change. as the day dawns, the night fades.
the light. reach for it.
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reach. ©️ kerri sherwood & david robinson
a few years ago, after my tealight-vessel-throwing-on-the-wheel experience, i felt like i still needed to express myself in another medium (other than music). as much as i adored the idea of throwing pots, the cost of the clay and studio time was not in direct proportion to my level of ability; it was time to put that aside till the budget was flush and i could return to the pottery studio without counting pennies. a tealight vessel (ok, there were a couple tealight vessels if you must know) and one lonely bowl were a total joy but it was clearly going to take some good-long-time to get better on that wheel. demi moore (in ghost) made it look easy. it is not.
and so i went to the art supply store and bought a huge canvas. the biggest one they had in stock. the kind with a deep side (1.5″). i brought it downstairs to the workroom and searched around for paint. since i am not well-versed in this area (to say the least) i selected a can of black paint and a can of white paint. both household paints. latex. semi-gloss. i searched around for one of the old brushes i had been using to paint furniture and i set up my “studio”.
day after day i would go downstairs to look at this spot in the basement. i could feel my excitement gathering. i had no idea what i was going to do with this canvas, but it was ready for me. until one day, indeed, i was ready.
i stood before the canvas and began to paint. i brushed on paint. i threw paint. i spattered paint. i painted over paint. time fell away and i kept painting. i’d walk away and let it dry and then return (this doesn’t take very long with household latex…long enough to pour another cup of coffee or glass of wine) and i’d paint some more. i’d stand back and i could see what it needed (at least what my eye said it needed.)
and then, i knew. it was time to stop. i didn’t know where it was going, but i did know when it was time to stop.
now, i can’t say if the cost of the canvas and studio time were in direct proportion to my level of ability, but i can say they were way less than what my heart felt. these moments, gathered together, a storm of inspiration, fed me.
this painting hangs in the hall in our house. when i sent a photo of it to a friend of mine right after i was done, scordskiii wrote back to ask whose work it was. i told him it was mine, laughing and apologizing for it. he was appalled by my apology and made me promise not to apologize again. so now there are a few more in the living room. arriving after these paintings all had their dedicated spots on the walls of what-is-now-our-home, david, the real painter in our house, said he loves them. i’m always invested in real art made by real people, regardless of the genre, so i love them too. not necessarily because of what they look like. but because of what they made (and make) me feel.
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inspiration is a gathering storm ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood
the air coming through the windows this morning felt cool. almost chilly. it has been a long while since the last time i could say that of a morning here. we have had a very hot, very humid summer…not my favorite combination. but today. it was different. and it made me feel immediately homesick. that happens every fall for me. maybe it’s a melancholy recognition of the passing of time, years zooming by. maybe it’s the season-change-thing…we know grey days are lurking right around the corner. either way, i feel homesick.
it’s a time when i miss long island the most, recall my growing-up years, pine for the autumn at millneck manor and long deserted-beach walks at crab meadow. a time when my sweet momma and poppo are really present for me in their absence, if that makes sense. i yearn to talk to them. a time when The Girl and The Boy seem oh-so-grown-up now, steeped in their own adult-lives, having adventures and being a dynamic part of this world, far away, without the benefit of hearing ‘good night moon’ every night. i know that every evening they roll their eyes at my goodnight texts to them, but i figure that someday they will understand. homesick.
yesterday was my father-in-law’s 85th birthday. we called columbus and sang ‘happy birthday’ to him. my momma and daddy did that every year for me and i try to carry on the tradition with the people i love. he laughed and told us he had gotten back from dinner at texas roadhouse and was listening to an old record. he listens to old records a lot. i suspect, because he is the man he is, that he gets homesick. i can tell by his eyes that he would totally understand me if i told him how i felt.
so today, if you are spending time together with someone, memorize it. if you are lucky enough to spend time with your momma or your daddy, please hug them. if you are one of the fortunate parents who have their children nearby, hold on just a little tighter and look into their faces when you say goodnight. relish it.
there is nothing like it.
time together.
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TIME TOGETHER from THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY ©️ 1997, 2000 kerri sherwood
i can feel the sun over my shoulder, low to the horizon, warming the back of my head. in front of me the field of cut-grain takes on the color of the sunset and the sky darkens in answer to the summoning of nightfall. the color is intense; the darkness is perforated by the suggestion of clouds, maybe stars…maybe it’s too early for that, i wonder. i want to walk up the hill to see what color might lay there, what color might be beyond that which i can see right now. but i stay still. and listen to the crickets in the grass, the cicadas in the small stand of trees behind me, the sigh of day’s end.
extracted from david’s painting WE WATCH THE SETTING SUN and then a time-of-day change from the morsel AUTUMN HILLSIDE, this is AUTUMN HILLSIDE NIGHT.
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autumn hillside/autumn hillside night/we watch the setting sun ©️ 2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood
ohmygosh. this was my swan song every time we left the house when The Girl and The Boy were little. this is our swan song before we leave the house now. every time. some things don’t change. i know this has nothing to do with this flawed cartoon and the instincts of birds flying south (or the technology they pay attention to), but middle age and its challenges -and joys- dictate what i pay attention to. and the common theme songs are hot flashes and restroom locations. sheesh!
we have a group of friends that all go together to a winter festival up north a bit. we literally PLAN where we are stopping for the “rest” stop and snacks. and it’s only an hour and fifteen minutes away! we don’t have devices to alert us. they are not necessary. besides, charlie refuses to have any of that confounded stuff.
yup. sometimes nature and people and even geese don’t really need technology.
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uh-oh! if you need to hit the potty, better do it now! ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood
this face entered my life nine years ago now. i had never had a cat before, but my sister and niece conspired when a kitten showed up on heather’s doorstep in florida. my sister had asked me, maybe weeks before, what kind of cat i would want if i had a cat (which she insisted i needed.) not having had sharing-life-with-a-cat-experience (for i know now not to call it “owning a cat”) i was less convinced. but then this little (short-lived on the word “little”…babycat is BIG!) kitten showed up on heather’s doorstep. after searching for its owner, it seemed fortuitous that i had answered my sister with the less-than-emotional-or-even-informed-but-kind-of-more-practical response, “i guess i’d want a black cat so it will coordinate with my clothing and i won’t always be using a rolly-thing to get fur off my clothes.” it was a match!
and, indeed, it was. after many trials, babycat was named “wilson” (a nod to The Boy’s tennis involvement) and we (The Girl, The Boy and i) drove him back to wisconsin, none of us quite sure how to handle his eating and relieving himself, a crate, food, portable litter box, water, toys and our laps handy. he has never ever answered to the name wilson and he totally chose his name babycat, readily answering to one of his nicknames. and so, his dominance over the household started.
babycat was one of those who-rescued-who stories you read about. at just the right moment, he entered our lives. he has been a big (no…BIG) presence ever since. not knowing what cats really do, i taught him many a dog-trick, sitting and speaking on command, coming when called, sitting up to beg for a treat. he was able and, more so, willing. (if he’s not willing, there’s no way to make something happen with him.)
and then david and, subsequently, dogdog came along. b-cat reined them both in, alpha to each of them. a bit more aloof when younger, but never one to hide or totally ignore us, somewhere along the way, he became a cat who wanted to snuggle.
but that face. it’s just too easy to read babycat’s mind. and right now, i agree with him. where DID the summer go?
babycat. he’s a force. and a big (no…BIG) part of my heart.
for these babycat coasters and other stuff on society6.com/twoartists, click here
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wheretheheckdidsummergo ©️ 2018 kerri sherwood & david robinson
i’ve never bungee-jumped or parachuted out of an airplane or ziplined across a gulch or dropped on a snowboard off the side of a mountain. but i understand how inspiration can make you do crazy things.
i remember my first album, 23 years ago now, felt like a crazy thing. it was scary stuff, putting my own music ‘out there’; it was scary standing on stage telling the stories that went along with those pieces and playing my first full-length concert. i imagine the adrenalin i had standing in the wings of the stage before the lights dimmed was much like that of stepping off the platform in a body harness ready to fly. now, the scary stuff would be not doing that which i know so well.
so many people who have stepped out – trusting their instincts, trusting their training, trusting their beliefs and values, trusting their resilience. following a path that might look unlikely. following inspiration. seemingly crazy stuff all of it. stuff that opens them to a wide spectrum of possible results, from wild success to something that looks like failure.
all inspired. all crazy. all learnings. all life. it may not all be safe, it may make you feel vulnerable; it may even invoke fear, but it sure is interesting.
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inspiration makes people do crazy things. ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood
reverse threading 