reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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the chair that brought him home. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

it’s a classic story. an age-old story.

it was after a photo shoot – for pictures with which to list it for sale – that i discovered it.

this old rocking chair had been with him for decades. his studio chair, he bought it in a colorado mountain town and it traipsed along with him, re-homing down south, to los angeles, to seattle. it was one of the few items – outside of paintings – that made the cut when we moved him here in a budget truck.

when it arrived here it became a studio chair once again, tucked into his basement studio next to the rocking chair in which i rocked my babies.

but now, in the process of cleaning out and going through, he has decided it has run its course. this beautiful chair needs restoring. caning is missing and, if someone rathers finished over organic, it needs sanding and some good varnish. with really good bones and a decade of life-patina, it’s ready to move on.

we brought it upstairs for the shoot and i took photos of each angle and turned leg. doing research on mission style rockers like this i came across where to find identifying information. so i went back out into the living room to look more closely.

and there it was.

the word “wisconsin”.

to say i was a bit stunned would be an understatement.

diving into it, i discovered that this chair was made by the wisconsin chair company in port washington – just up the lakefront from us sometime around the early 1900s.

this chair – after a century of domestic travel – had come home.

i asked him if he wanted to keep it – knowing this new detail of the chair’s history. he said it was still time for the chair to move on, to be loved into renewal.

i’m wondering if this rocking chair had anything to do with david finding home – after a lifetime of living other places. if this chair somehow had strong enough ties to this place that it created the circumstances in which we met. if this chair had a gravitational pull back to wisconsin so strong that it brought david here, instead of the reverse. if this rocking chair brought him home.

*****

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

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the good wine. [saturday morning smack-dab.]

on this day – ten years ago – i was in anticipation. after about six months of letters via email, we were about to meet in person. we talked about it over glasses of wine on bar stools in a real bistro last night.

i can remember wondering. what this guy – who i had virtually shared my days with – would be like. would he be sincere in person…would he be fun…would he be as easy to talk to side by side as he was in writing and, the big one, what he would look like, what i would see in his eyes. i had seen the tiniest of tiny photographs – a thumbprint size – and that was it. i was looking for a man in the great big baggage claim of o’hare airport who, in all likelihood, i would not recognize.

and yet…

there he was, jeans, boots, black shirt, backpack, rollybag. i knew him right away.

it hasn’t been a piece-o-cake ten years. there have been roiling rapids in the river and hidden boulders of challenge. we have faced down storms and weather systems. we have had our share of loss. we have gone from truly-middle-middle-age to a-wee-past-middle-middle-age. our bodies show it. our priorities show it. we haven’t the shared luggage of a journey before this decade together; instead we have separate baggage of tens-of-years long before we met. we have learned the skills of listening to all these stories, to generously entertain redundancy, to compassionately help each other sort. we have learned the complexities of a middle-age relationship, for there are many. you arrive where you are and that is a little further down the road. we have learned that dancing in the kitchen is tantamount to happy-making. we have learned that cooking – together – is affirming and feeds us in more ways than we realized. we have learned that walking arm in arm – with a skip every now and again – centers us.

time will continue to fly by. our dogga will soon be ten and we all miss our babycat. together we have seen my sweet momma on to the next and we have seen his dad on. we have moved children and criss-crossed the country to see them. there will be loss and there will be elation. the ribbon we carry in our pocket ties us to gossamer reminders of each and of our capacity to adjust.

there are those of you out there – who are trying this all on for size. trying on middle-age relationship, trying on new relationship at any age. there are times that it may seem insurmountable, maybe even sooo-not-worth-it.

but it is.

we have learned that it all counts.

and for that – the good wine.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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kismet. [merely-a-thought monday]

kismet. clearly. for two rock lovers, two expressers, two artists, it is self-actualization.

we have decided to go off-grid…the two of us, our dogdog, a gigantic collection of rocks and paint pens. we will travel the country by littlebabyscion, seeking spaces in which to paint – preferably ones without mosquitoes – and we will fully-immerse in our new art form, certain that, though there are about a billion books out there with templates and patterns and directions and almost a paint-by-number approach to rock-painting, our rocks – as newly self-actualized igneous artists – will stand out. and we will create riches and mountains of gratitudes, fans jostling to get our next-released-rocks.

we can see it.

our sedimentary souls, with layers and layers of artistic experimentation and experience, loss and success, opening nights and closing shows, will fly in the bliss of stroking-paint-pens-on-rock. our artistry opened and whimsy blowing off the doors of the amazingly realistic work of roberto rizzo. yup, yup, dare to dream….

and then we will return from our extended journey, changed forever, kismet having delivered us back to our back door.

we laugh at our overnight dreamy success. or – wait – is it our dream overnight? hmmm…

we wipe the sleep from our eyes.

*****

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