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fleur-de-lis thoughts. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

the tidbit server is an etched clear glass tray – vintage fostoria from the 30s or maybe a tad closer to mid-century – with a fleur-de-lis finial in the center. though difficult to store, it is a lovely piece passed down to me and i keep it at hand so that i might use it from time to time. i thought about this tray the instant we passed by the canna lily on the sidewalk by the art center. the brilliant orange-red petals – aglow with noon sun – curled back from the center, revealing nature’s fleur-de-lis, right there, just waiting for us.

we walked home and i looked in the corner cabinet built into our dining room – just to say hello to this piece, remembering my sweet momma using it on special occasions and recommitting to using it any old time.

we were at old navy browsing. they were having big sales and plain black sweatshirts were a part of the sale: $20! – less than half price! it’s been a long time since we each got a new sweatshirt – years, really – so we looked for a couple in big, cozy oversizes, and splurged. just the idea of a new sweatshirt for the fall days and nights rapidly approaching made us excited. we know there is a low bar for eliciting our excitement, but, heck, new yummy sweatshirts would make anyone pretty gleeful.

we imagined walking in all our favorite places with these new sweatshirts. and, though we are not traveling these days – instead, staying at home with our aging dogga – we could well imagine wearing these in the mountains, on the coast, up north, in canyonlands, out in the desert after sunset.

it also means, maybe, that some of our ancient sweatshirts may move on. well, except for the north face clearance ones that are falling apart from close to a dozen years of wear and tear. or the old zip-up that d uses when he paints in his studio. or the cropped zip-up i wore on every single solo roadtrip i took for years – like a reassuring, protective guardian – my support hoodie – now at least 25 years old – with no cuffs left to be found and a paper clip as a zipper pull. yeah, these will not go – no one else would want them, nor would we even give away such shoddy shirts with so much meaning.

but there are others – sweatshirts i collected over the years touting places or universities or organizations. some of those are in very good condition and still have lots of wearing to be done.

it’s a funny thing about old stuff. a few years back i thought that this fleur-de-lis glass tray might be a good thing to move on – to sell to someone who might really relish its vintage beauty, who might use it in regular rotation.

and then i realized that person is me.

the etched glass tray and the tattered papercliphoodie are in different classes entirely. but they are both expressions of who i am, where i have come from, where i might be going.

as soon as the beakyrule has run its course – and i can wear the brand new thing – i’ll be wearing that new black sweatshirt, being all cozy-like. hopefully it will feel just right, right away.

in the meanwhile, it’ll just have to wait for its wings, sitting patiently on the cedar chest in our room, on top of the old quilt and under my sunhat.

the next time we passed the canna lily, it was no longer in fleur-de-lis position, a ballerina in positions of grace. it had withered a bit, its petals less reaching-for-the-sun, more cuff-less and zipperpull-less, but, i noted, no less of a blossom.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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gold dust. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

scrolling through IG i came across a post with a series of memes – positive words we’ve all heard before, but all succinctly placed as text boxes in appealing photographs that tug at our attention. words like: “be grateful that you slipped through the hands of people who had no f-ing idea how to hold you.” and “i hope you heal from things that nobody apologized for.”

there were more – i took a couple screenshots but then just became lost in this slew of (some really touching) reminders – things we all need to hear from time to time, things that – in the right moment – have the power to make us stop and think, lessen any ever-present pain, stop any perseverating we might be doing that might be harming us or taking away precious time of which we have not-enough.

it was the music that did me in. judah earl’s sand drawing was playing as the soundtrack music for these thoughtful emotion-elicitors. it was all at once striking and familiar. atmospheric and haunting, it reminded me of arvo part’s spiegel im spiegel with a soaring cello line and supportive simple piano. omg. just gorgeous.

the other day we passed by a couple who in the past have deeply hurt us. though they had posed as good friends back then, they were involved in some serious backstabbing behavior, sheer hypocrisy to their stated belief system, the antithesis of what they (piously) claim to be. it pains me to think about it. as we passed, the female of the couple cheerfully said, “hi guys,” as if nothing had ever transpired, as if they had never been betraying to the bonds of friendship of which they had pretended to have.

it was a gut punch for me.

i completely ignored them as they passed within a foot or so on the sidewalk. it was strange to be in such close proximity to someone who had never apologized for their wrongdoing, had never even offered contrition, clearly never had any remorse whatsoever. i imagine that you have had an experience or two like this as well…the reason for my sharing.

it was a couple days later that the reassuring memes came across my screen.

the timing of the universe is sometimes exquisite. it gave me time enough to ponder what had happened but not enough time to immerse fully back in the hurt.

the golden cord in the cloud was there and then it wasn’t. it dissipated as our relationship with the sun changed, light moving in the sky.

the cello line soared and then dropped to a whisper, the piano steady behind it, chording a base harmony, structural and necessary.

the universe stood steady for me, for us, as we processed – once again – what these people had done – people who we trusted, to whom we felt connection, with whom we shared community. it reminded me – it reminded us – that – just as in the IG meme – we had slipped through their hands and that we should feel gratitude instead of loss. some things are just not meant to stay the same. including relationships.

and the mixture of emotions joined the whisper of cello and slipped into the shimmer of gold dust in the cloud. and the cloud moved through the sky and just as quickly as it had shone up, suddenly the gold dust was gone. looking for the next heart that needed it.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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THE STUFF OF DREAMS mixed media 24″x24″

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the happy zone. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

there is a company that has captured my attention, a small family-owned business. i don’t own anything made by this company – yet – but every single time i browse through their website, i find myself completely happy. each product – floral sheets, boho skirts and pants, some trinkety trinkets i usually don’t purchase – every single thing textural and colorful – a kaleidoscope of happy – is an item of thoughtful and intentional beauty.

in these times, it would seem that a kaleidoscope of happy is mighty valuable.

the jalapeños at the farmstand (as well as the sweet peppers we photographed and purchased) have the same impact. such happy colors, so unassuming – just doing their i’m-a-pepper thing, delighting us.

the quilt on our bed is like that as well. the colors make us happy – year-round – and when the east sun streams in across the foot of the bed, there is not much that feels quite so reassuringly warm.

in an effort to – every now and then – not watch the news, we take to youtube to see whatever else is out there – thru-hikes, mountain summiting, house-buying, rockclimbing, rvs, van-life, restoration projects, bigfoot, tiny houses, zen videos – whatever will take our minds off what is actually happening – at least for a little bit of time.

there was a video of a guy who had distilled the ten most important things about cleaning out your stuff (which now goes into the same pile as my sentimental-people-getting-rid-of-stuff book and the intense konmari methodology). if you are looking for a dopamine rush, i suspect this is not the way.

anyway, on this video one of the things he said – which I’ve only heard about a zillion times before (though i do not heed it regardless of how many times i’ve heard it i-blame-my-mom) – is to not save things “for good”. instead, he encouraged using things that we have – clothing, china, heritage pieces or things just purchased.

we’ve been trying to do this lately – we have moved all the handed-down fenton hobnail serving pieces and the leaded glass bowls and such into places that are easy to access. instead of serving things in plasticware or ordinary stoneware, we now choose the milkglass hobnail for happy hour charcuterie or the crystal bowls for slices of cucumber and hummus. “use them,” i remind myself, “today is important.“

clothing is harder.

he urged – on the video – to not save clothing for fancy events – to just wear these pieces – perhaps consider that every day is a fancy event.

as a person who gets stuck in patterns of clothing-wearing (if you know me you are nodding here) this is much more difficult. i need to take the flowy boho pants of out my closet and put them on. i need to wear the oversized overalls, the daisy sneakers, the maxiskirt i got in colorado. other than an spf sunshirt i bought on $9.97 clearance at costco a couple weeks ago, i can’t remember what else i have bought in recent times – clothing-wise. oh…a pair of shorts, at the beginning of the summer. (i actually detest shorts now, but feel like i need to own a pair or two anyway.) though it doesn’t count as an article of clothing, my really colorful REI pride crossbody/waist pack has made it to the front of the class and i use it everyday walking or shopping…a piece that manifests happy as soon as i strap it on.)

anyway, i’m losing the point here – which was??? – oh yeah….wearing – and using – the things that make you happy.

likewise – if something does not make you happy – if it no longer fits into the picture of your life – you can give it away. this guy gives you permission (so do the author of the sentimental-people book and marie kondo and every other clearing-out guru).

which would suggest that if you see something that you know would make you happy, then you should consider getting it. (this is also a hard part for me – i know you are nodding emphatically here – as i am not a spontaneous shopper. always belabored by budget, conscience and indecision, i ponder and ponder and ponder before i purchase, if i purchase…)

but there are those gleefully happy floral pillowcases and those incredibly happy floral sheets and…

and maybe, just maybe, someday…

but first – practicing….things out, things out, things out….the gurus are clapping.

and in the meanwhile, before any things-in, the corked jalapeños and the sweet peppers will have to suffice.

they make the happy zone and join in my kaleidoscope of things-beautiful on this day…this important day.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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the silhouette of happy. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

every day we walk our hood-harbor loop – whether we extend it beyond 3.5 miles or not – we pass this tree. on this particular day – with this particular sunset and this particular western sky – it was particularly striking. it stopped me a couple steps beyond it – whispering to me not to miss it – and i went back to photograph it.

wow.

the silhouette.

i remember a very specific photograph taken of me when i was (very) pregnant with my girl. i was sitting and teaching a piano lesson and, for some reason, there is a photo of this. looking at that picture after it was developed (as in film-developing) was eye-opening. i couldn’t believe my profile. it didn’t have the inherent softness of a silhouette, flaws blending into dark and inky . it was just – well – a straight up picture – no softness, no blending, no depth of field out-of-focus. good grief…i was gigantic. all, of course, worth it in the end. it makes me laugh now, but the day i saw the photograph – in one of those envelopes of prints/negatives you’d get back from the photography store or walgreens or wherever you might mail them away to – that day i shed a few tears. i was just shocked. one rarely sees oneself from the side. and, like, wow.

this morning – a few days before this is publishing – we watched a video of buddhist quiet wisdom. it was about aging – which is yet another time of life that our photographs look less and less like we think they should look.

i think the main takeaway for me from that video is the very simple message: you already have enough.

what we bring to this moment – letting go of all the other moments – is enough. the ultimate in presence. a profile of peace and acceptance and utter appreciation.

last week there were a few days when the combo platter of actual temperature and humidity yielded ridiculously high feels-likes outside. we decided to stay in.

and somehow, in our staying-in, we decided to clean the kitchen cabinets…you know, the ones with plates and bowls and cookware and platters and plastic storage with too many lids and not enough containers and dipping bowls and servingware and cutting boards and tupperware and handed-down mid-century glasses and corningware and pyrex mixing bowls and platters and trivets and jam jars that are now everyday glasses and those multi-colored plastic sippy-cups (with lids) and tervis tumblers and (have i lost you yet?) voila! two gravy boats and the plastic shaker thing in which you mix the flour and water.

so.

it was a ginormous task.

i said to him: i don’t want this to turn into a big-deal-like-all-day-thing.

ha.

it turned into three-big-deal-all-day-things.

but, in the middle of extracting everything from the cabinets and laying it on counters and then washing it all and d washing out every single old cabinet and shoring things up a bit and taking stock and thinking through what should stay and what should go and how it should all be stored – what makes sense for day-to-day life – we found ourselves inside very present days.

the silhouette of our days profiled narrative of the last forty to fifty years – old things, new things, things we purchased together, things i had from my previous life, things that had been handed-down.

it was a gorgeous sunset in our kitchen each day we worked on this project – lighting up stories from long ago to now, laughter and joy.

we worked both quietly and raucously. and, at the end of each day, we each had some pretty achy muscles from the up and down on chairs to reach cabinet shelves, the constant on-our-feet washing, washing, the belly laughs about curly straws and sippy cups and a yellow ceramic platter – to which i am still dedicated though i haven’t touched it in at least a decade. we were horrified at the dust and the far reaches of old contact paper and the sheer volume of stuff that had fit into cabinets that looked like it would never pack in there again.

in the middle of our giant-but-not-supposed-to-be-giant-which-yes-caused-a-ruckus-or-two task, we never once gave specific thought to how our aging bodies looked. we never once questioned where we are in life or where we think we should have been. we were just where we were. and it was most definitely gratifying.

it was enough.

and it was backlit by the sun, setting on each of our days, the north sky out the big picture window over the sink illuminating a hot day ending.

the silhouette of happy.

*****

TANGO WITH ME mixed media (sold)

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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they’re baaack. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

it’s that time of year when the wistfuls arrive. school has just started, a little bit – albeit, the tiniest little bit – of fall is in the air, notebooks and filler paper and mechanical pencils fill the supplies aisles, the lakefront is quieter.

i sort back to my own growing-up and how northport harbor went from bustling to a bit sleepy, how crab meadow beach went from crowded – the smell of coppertone lingering in the air – to deserted with a few people walking its shoreline. things reorganized and people got back to it…structure.

even so, even knowing about the impending wistfuls, i had trouble understanding what was happening when i spent the day close to tears.

i knew i had written another blogpost about the wistfuls – last year – and i just looked back at it. i’m not sure i could say what i said in that blogpost more succinctly:

and is it any wonder that i wonder what the wistful is about???

oh, i imagine that when the wistful hits, it will be with some degree of force. for everything is changing – not just the leaves.

and we are suddenly thrust into a world – a country – where freedom and rights are being usurped, where the administration is upholding the secrecy of sexual predators, where school shootings – with children and adults dying – dying! – elicit merely passive thoughts and prayers, where xenophobic, racist, homophobic, misogynistic leaders wish to eliminate – eliminate! – actual people they consider superfluous, unwelcomed, expendable, where the premise of warmongering seems to be a sport and the propensity to further lethality and offensive actions on those they perceive as disposables runs rampant, where healthcare and the ability to have enough food is considered elite, where having more gets more and having less doesn’t matter.

WHY is it this way?

the wistfuls indeed.

they’re baaack.

so much intensely wrong.

things are truly upside-down.

no wonder i’m feeling weepy.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

WEEPING MAN mixed media 48″x36″ (available)

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it’s happening. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

the sweet potato is growing by leaps and bounds – it’s almost mind-boggling how quickly it has become so large. more accustomed to plants that grow slower, we wonder how it is possible. it’s only been two weeks since we planted the entire potato in this planter, its tiny pink tendril sprouts sticking out of the dirt.

now – merely two weeks later – this sweet potato is vining everywhere. this photo, taken a few days ago, is already outdated; the vine now reaches up onto the deck and is twirling around the pot that holds one of the basil plants. it reaches out to the lavender, over to the tomato, and forward onto the patio. it – seemingly – has no bounds, and these amazing heart-shaped leaves are multiplying, multiplying, multiplying.

the good takeover is happening.

what if love could take over that fast?

*****

embraced now – mixed media 48″ x 36″ (available for purchase)

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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in full bloom. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

“after all those years as a woman hearing ‘not thin enough, not pretty enough, not smart enough, not this enough, not that enough,’ almost overnight i woke up one morning and thought, ‘i’m enough.'” (anna quindlen)

i’m pretty certain that the hibiscus does not stop to ponder if it is ‘enough’. it just buds and blooms and shows up in the world in a big, big way.

i’m also pretty certain that – were the hibiscus to offer advice to women everywhere – it would advise us all to – likewise – just bud and bloom and show up in the world in a big, big way. it would encourage us to not ponder anything – particularly whether or not we were ‘enough’, likely whether-or-not anything at all.

i had a dream last night – the part that i remember is that i had something to say…and in my dream i contacted a younger woman to ask her to say it – because somehow, in my dream, i had passed the point of being heard – my age had made my words irrelevant, no longer of value, my voice weightless.

even in my dream i knew this was wrong and when i woke I wondered why i was dreaming this – though there are so many dots connecting this i am foolish to even wonder.

i watched a video where the interviewer asked the interviewee about when this country was great. the man – exquisitely dressed in gq magazine garb – replied with a year in the early 1900s, before world war one, in 1913. the year of the women’s suffrage parade – among many other things – the interviewer pressed, “oh, so before women could vote?” to which the fabulously-dressed-interviewee replied, “right!”

what the ever-lovin’ hell is that?

watching the dismantling of women’s rights in this country is exhausting. listening to pompous suit-wearing gluttonous testosterone-focused men tout the value of men and the devaluing of women is utterly disgusting. witnessing men strip women of the right to make decisions about their own health and well-being sickens me. sexually exploiting girls and women, stonewalling all manner of culpability, and perpetuating undeniably dishonest and disrespectful silence is grotesque. and the whole twisted trad-wife kitchen-lizard-birth-control-less-pregnant-my-husband-can-vote-for-me-i’m-good-with-that-and-goodness-let’s-make-sure-we-address-his-erectile-dysfunction-and-bow-to-his-needing-a-sandwich movement makes purple stuff wanna burst out of my head.

i mean – truly – what in the hell is going on?

if this is where this country is full-steam-ahead heading, we are most definitely regressing, backsliding into a retrograde sans stopgaps. this is primitive thinking of the highest nature.

and even the hibiscus knows it.

i woke up a little bit crabby after dreaming that i turned over what i had to say to a younger, thinner, less wrinkly, more ‘relevant’ woman.

and, like anna quindlen, i thought to myself, “the hell with that. i’m enough.”

i have a few things to say here and i’m in full bloom.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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there’s still softness. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

given the chance, softness catches your eye.

in these times of unmitigated chaos, it feels important to somehow remain open – to have just enough stillness in your mind to see it – the soft thing.

i often click on videos of puppies, horses, cats, birds, wildlife, vast expanses of national park lands, tiny carter cooking. my analytics are clear, i’m guessing, because those are the videos i find when i open my social media. well, that and thru-hikers, tiny houses, a plethora of musicians, random acts of kindness, people growing basil or dahlias or raising kung fu emus.

they keep me going.

because the chaos can be all-consuming.

and if you add your own personal set of challenges to a chaos bar that has been raised just by the tenor of this country, you are faced with the nearly impossible task of trying to maintain some sort of balance, some sort of steady, some – any – sort of zen in your days.

but softness is still out there. and it’s all around us.

the universe waves its arms at us, trying to get our attention, “look! over here! “

and every now and then we listen. we look to where grace has pointed. and soft wraps itself around us, reminding us:

“there’s still softness in the world” (tyler merritt)

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

browse softness in DAVID’S GALLERY

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tabouli party. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

in dramatically exciting news, this has been the week of tabouli. with heat indexes off the charts, it’s a refreshing change of pace.

it’s only mid-july and already our little potting stand garden is rocking. we have sooo much mint, a wild burst of chives and some curly parsley (our flat parsley has been the incredible-shrinking parsley – which must be because it’s on the preferred diet choices of our local squirrels.) the first batch of jalapeños are ready to harvest, many of the cherry tomatoes are orange-ing up, the basil is happily basil-ing along.

in an effort to use the herbs of which we have plenty, it brought to mind our quinoa tabouli – which uses the harvest we already have at our fingertips.

in these days of sickly sticky parasites invading the fruits and vegetables of these united states it feels extra good to have just gone a few steps outside to clip off what i needed for this fresh salad. it is a weird world with way too many things to worry about.

pasta with basil, homemade pizza margherita, jalapeño poppers, pesto, mint and lemon suntea that basked on the deck…and soon…more of our own cherry tomatoes for everything under the sun…the recipes line up in wait.

our adirondack chairs adjacent to our little burgeoning herbandveggie garden, we sat outside – after dinner – after sunset – while the fireflies danced through the backyard – and talked. our tiki-type torches lit, dogga conked out on the deck, we reviewed yet another strange set of days – strange in an insane number of ways. we wondered – yet again – what we can do.

we are beyond saddened by the schisms that deepen with every single corrupt thing that is reported (leaving us to truly ponder what is too opaque – too silenced – too hidden – to be reported, even by hardworking alternative media sources.)

and yet we know – even with our intense sadness – that there is no going back. anyone who thinks that all this is acceptable in any way – including what seems too easy to avoid – the new veggiefruit parasites running rampant because of this administration’s gluttonous greed and incompetence – is lost to us. that loss is mindboggling. it is heartwrenching.

and so, i guess we’ll just party on with our tabouli.

*****

WEEPING MAN mixed media 48″ x 36″ (available for purchase)

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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on the horizon. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

in the “what’s in your wallet” series of ads, adorable jennifer garner is featured as a fixture of the marketing campaign. pictured everywhere, she quips, “what’s in your wallet?” advertising for the capital one credit card.

staring south down lake michigan we can sometimes see itty-bitty evidence of the chicago skyline. the curvature of the earth…the line of sight – slightly angled upward looking south – appears farther east, the right atmospheric conditions and refraction of light in the atmosphere…bending light’s path, the time of day…best when the sun is lower in the sky: all factors in the the ability to see even portions of that incredible skyline. the words “what’s on your horizon?” come to mind.

as the sun set in the west, the east put on a show the other day. with shades of trader joe’s dried mango slices and glasses of provence rosé dancing along the horizon, i waved at chicago, fully believing our son could see it. the magic of the horizon is like that.

i suppose that we don’t know – day to day – what will really be on our horizon. there are no guarantees and so we really should do the best we can to live best each of these days – chock full of horizon possibilities. like my sweet momma said, who would have been 105 a few days ago on the 5th, “live life, my sweet potato”.

but in these uncertain times we find we also have to draw some lines – on our horizon. we cannot pollyanna that which is ‘out there’. there are things we refuse to ignore, things that impact people we love and care about and, yes, even people we do not know, things that are based on cruel and extremist ideologies (if you can even call them ‘ideologies’ – which seems generous, considering the intentions behind them). there are things that color our days, whether or not they directly affect us. we can’t look away or be dismissive. we can’t become part of a kind of conscious avoidance, of avoiding the seeing of or learning about what is really happening in an escape to having to push-back against it, or – even worse – a denial of knowledge of its existence. the horizon is all of it. all the layers.

and even in the day to day of our lives – with all the layers of personal stuff to deal with on our own horizons – it is impossible to not feel the burden of trying to save this democracy, the heavy weight of trying to hold true to the constitution and its amendments, all the colors of what it means to live right now coalescing to make our horizon complicated.

we look down the lake, squinting to see chicago. sometimes the view is clear and sometimes – when the conditions are not in place – it is totally obstructed.

maybe we need to keep looking – to view, to discern our horizon at all different times of day and night, during all different weather circumstances, at all ages and stages – in order to get an accurate picture of what’s really out there, to grok the magic and the challenge of the horizon: all its choices and decisions, all its beauty and its ugly, all it can show us about living authentically – so that we can honestly answer “what’s on your horizon?”

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly support an artist whose work directly impacts you.