reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: DR thursday


by Leave a comment

clarity. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

without the haze of humidity the sun seems brighter, the woods seem crisper, the sky seems bluer. it’s as if the soft-focus filter was lifted and clarity was restored.

tuesday we stopped by our much-loved-mechanic’s shop. littlebabyscion has had a mountain of emissions work done and we wanted to share that it passed the emissions test. (all – money and time and effort and good intention – ironically – in the middle of an administration that could care less about the danger of greenhouse gases while repealing clean air initiatives and gutting the environmental protection agency.)

while there, i noticed a copy of the local newspaper on top of a big toolbox.

i used to subscribe to the paper. i’d read it each day, catching up on local, domestic and international news. it’s been well over a decade now since i have had delivery. having shrunk by leaps and bounds in recent years, it’s about the thickness of my college newspaper these days.

there were several headlines on tuesday’s front page.

one of the minor – minor! – headlines was this: “court lifts immigration operation restrictions”.

i was aghast.

in a 6-3 conservative majority ruling, the supreme court of this united states – that is supposed to uphold the constitution of these united states – decided that racial profiling is a-ok with them – liberally putting a match to all-men-are-created-equal, gutting the 14th amendment’s equal protection clause and paying no heed to the 4th amendment’s probable cause necessity, subjecting the populace to the elimination of constitutional freedoms.

though an AP article reporting on the court’s appalling decision was copied and pasted, the weeny headline penned by the paper intimated – no, completely underplayed – with a light and positive spin for a hugely negative action by the highest judiciary in this land – the people charged with the protection of this democracy, its institutions, its law. a soft focus filter applied to a stark reality.

now, i am not a journalist, but i am a consumer of journalism. and a brief foray into definitions and descriptions of the use of headlines would lead one to believe that a headline will most definitely set the tone of the piece that follows, give the gist of the piece, signal its significance. in real application, however, we see that headlines expose the underlying slant of a journalistic institution. they give one insight to the stance of that institution reporting “the news”.

so…where is the headline “supreme court lifts restrictions on racial profiling“? the headline “court promotes indiscriminate roving immigration patrols and stops“? the headline that blasts out “court ceases constitutional freedoms“??

let us not forget that this decision by this highest court will impact every single person in this country. it is a decision that can be maliciously construed for any population of people.

the headline and article with the largest font and the biggest presence on the page was “hundreds turn out to ride“, an article featuring the town’s electric streetcars.

this may be the reason the paper is barely a paper. daily delivery for this is $60 a month.

this day – today – marks the 24th anniversary of the september 11 targeted terrorism attacks, a time when our country came together to push back against the atrocities of hate.

are not masked “roving immigration patrols” an atrocity of hate within our own country?

where is the paper’s clarity of this perilous moment we are now in? where is their screaming headline?

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you.

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


by 4 Comments

kinship. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

were this monarch to have the tiniest of notebooks and a tinier pencil, i would feel even more kinship with it.

i can imagine that it – perched on the vine-wall that has taken over the fence – is writing gentle poetry, haikus about flying and how sunshine feels on its wings. i can imagine that it – late in the summer, maybe a super-generation butterfly – is pondering the freedom of a bit-longer lifespan, the sky-trip it has booked to mexico as summer ends. it might write of adventures and exploring, of new discoveries, milkweed and other plants it now feeds on.

i wonder if it feels the same way i felt – so many decades ago – sitting in my maple tree, perched against the trunk, writing. it felt like there could be nothing at all wrong in the world, and that, like the monarch’s vibrant colors warning of toxins, my coca-cola it’s-the-real-thing pants and floppy hat would keep away any predators. i wonder if its words flit over sunrises and sunsets, grown-up seagull dreams, innocence and possibility.

we’re sitting in the old gravity chairs we unearthed from up in the rafters of the garage. our feet up, pillows behind our backs, we quietly watch the busy life of our backyard. there’s so much space to just think, to ponder.

the butterfly floats past us, over us, behind us. it lands on the burgeoning vine, the natural privacy screen growing helter-skelter on the fence. it is free to roam. it is free to be.

and then.

i overheard, “he got a monarch.” the butterfly’s vivid orange and black and broad stripes didn’t protect it from the cat prowling for prey next door.

i felt my heart sink. in like manner, my coca-cola pants and dr scholl’s, hard-held value set and a sunrise-sunset horizon full of possibility didn’t protect me either.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

66 and 19 © david robinson (mixed-media)

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

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


by Leave a comment

sustain beauty. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

it was a spontaneous excursion – an unexpected morning a bit ago with no obligation. we got in the car early and drove down to the botanic garden.

as we came around the corner, d stopped and asked me to take a picture. the tree – shaped like a square – was something out of cartoonland. a filled-with-wonder dr. seuss and winnie the pooh mashup. this morning at the garden was definitely what we needed.

every step got slower. we paused and lingered over blooms; we drank in the quiet. this time of day in the garden was divine. we vowed to go more often, to soak up this place – so much beauty, such intention to sustaining it.

it’s really what i cannot fathom: the idea of not working to sustain the beauty of this country, instead, working to destroy it.

the list of places we’d love to go is lengthy. they are not shopping malls or shipping warehouses or land massacred for its resources. the list is the quiet places. the places of grandeur. the places that are understatedly glorious. the places that are wild, that are wide-open, that embrace all who step there.

sustaining the beauty of this country is not just about the environmental legacy of its sea-to-shining-sea. it is about its history – the good, the bad, the ugly. it is about the learnings, the coming-of-age into democracy – rights and privileges deemed law for the populace. it is about the diversity of its people, the gifts that we each bring – spokes in the wheel. it is about the sustaining of care and concern for each other, empathy as a moral code, compassion as a north star. the list of places of integrity within the hearts and minds of those in positions of leadership.

for those who do not wish to perpetuate goodness, who wish to forward messages of hatred and cruelty, who have no intention of sustaining beauty of any sort – these are people i cannot grok. it is impossible to wrap my head around the embrace of such immorality. it is impossible for me to understand such a disregard for decorum, for human dignity, for the wonder of living in the universe, for peaceful coexistence.

“unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. it’s not.” (dr. seuss)

someone like each and every one of us.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

WEEPING MAN 36” x 48”

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

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


by 1 Comment

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

“positive cultural change today (as it has always been) is about leveraging your life where you are: by doing small, possible, measurable daily acts of decency, of protest, of advocacy, of collaboration.” (john pavlovitz)

the bumper sticker read: “kindness is an act of defiance.“

in a country with an administration that is leading the way on trying to make people believe that kindness is weakness and wokeness and various other nouns, being kind seems an infinitely easy way to push back.

i have been astounded to see people i know and love spew words of hatred aligning with this administration’s mounting display of cruelty. it would seem that they have plucked kindness and decency out of their hearts. it is my hope that this plucking is not permanent. it is my hope that a vigor – to help people, to collaborate with people, to share rights and freedoms with all, to advocate for those who are in need – will return at some point. but cold hearts become rigid quickly and their version of defiance seems to be complicity with the authoritarian vision.

and so we sit on the deck with dogga and talk about it all. we talk about our own plans. we ponder how we might make a difference, besides writing and writing and writing. we copy lists of things that are needed by local non-profits and organizations aiding people. we sort needs and wants and prioritize as responsibly as we can.

and we wander around the backyard, looking at the phenomenal growth of our herbs, the tropical-like burst from the flowers and the grasses and the sweet potato plants. we are grateful for this tiny place of earth that is ours. even in our own lack and thriftiness, we are grateful for our own abundance. in our own tiny yard, we snip basil for homemade pizza, cilantro for chili, parsley for red pesto, tiny cherry tomatoes and jalapeño peppers.

we cook, we clean out, we give away. we hike, we photograph, we write. we pay attention to little details. we try to find the small, possible, measurable ways to create culture change.

to be where we are and be defiant.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

“HELPING HANDS” 53.5″ x 15.25″

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

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


by 2 Comments

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

a couple decades ago a dear friend tied some stems of lavender together with string and gave them to me. it was a wish for peace, for calm, for comfort. one of the stringed-together stems still hangs in my studio.

sometime after that another dear friend shipped me lavender from her own yard – so that i might plant it in mine. for a time i had a lavender garden – returning each year until a neighbor’s invasive ground cover usurped my more fragile lavender.

the summer we lived on washington island we were privy to an amazing lavender farm – walkways in between beds upon beds of lavender in a field of tranquility.

a couple years ago i carefully dried some stems of lavender – hanging them in the basement – and then extracted the seeds, putting them in tiny organza bags to send to family members and close friends with wishes of healing and serenity.

in these last years we have planted big clay pots of lavender, anxiously waiting for the soft purple flowers and the scent off the breeze to lift us.

each year i am amazed by the clusters of diminutive flowers that make up the whole. each year i photograph the green stems and the tiny buds waiting to spring into bloom. each year i run my hand along the stalk and gently along the blossoming lavender, always taken by the fragrance.

it is no different this year. i sat on the deck next to the pot of lavender. my mind wandered back through the years – the lavender years – the gift of a posy, the plants flown to me across the country, the lavender in the fields on island, the lavender my girl picked out at the nursery. english lavender, french lavender, sweet romance lavender, bundles of lavender drying downstairs, beautiful sachets ready to be gifted.

we are not high-brow gardeners. our gardens are simple and have many heritage plants and things that are not complicated to grow. we know little but each year try to learn a wee bit more than we knew before.

maybe one day we will add a raised bed or two to our patio – where we might add more herbs, more vegetables, more flowers.

the thing i know we will always have – whether there is a simply a potting stand and perimeter gardens like there are now or something more – is a big pot of lavender.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

like. share. subscribe. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

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


by 1 Comment

to be a bird. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

we used to climb out of the bedroom window upstairs onto the flat roof. we’d pass adirondack chairs up from the deck below and experience our backyard from a “patio” spot higher up. it is always perspective-arranging to be up there. we can see further from that vantage point.

the very first day we met in person we climbed out that window onto the roof. that day i had a rug, a couple chairs, blankets and wine glasses ready. it was utterly magical and has made us dream about securing the roof structure and designing a more permanent space that we might enter through an actual door.

we haven’t climbed out the window in a while now, though we have often spoken about it and i imagine that one of these days – after the heat dome has moved on – that we will again have happy hour on the roof.

when the bird landed on the pinnacle of our roofline, i wondered what it could see. i wondered what it might be thinking as it looked upward to unlimited sky. i wondered what it might be like to be a bird – sans the complexities of living in community with other human beings.

each day we juggle the choice of participating in current-event-information-overload or divesting ourselves of all of it and hiking with nothing on our minds but PCT-someday-dreams and the snacks we carried with us.

each day – as citizens of this country – we try to understand how anyone could wish to destroy this democracy, how anyone could wish to subject other people to the inhumane cruelty we are witnessing, how anyone could wish to align with such horror.

each day we wonder about the next. we wonder what will happen. we wonder what the next few decades will look like – as we, now, are moving into a time when a few decades is all we have.

each day i am overwhelmed by the brutal reality that we – as human beings – generously graced with intelligence and the skills of critical thinking – on this stunningly beautiful mother earth – are literally incapable of living in peace.

and i wonder if the bird – perched on the tippy-top of our roof – is counting its blessings that it is a bird.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

PRAYER OF OPPOSITES 48”x 48”

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly impact an artist whose work has directly impacted you.


by 1 Comment

of being alive. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

when you hike a trail a lot, it becomes a member of the family. like when you recognize something has changed – someone had a haircut, someone has new glasses, someone has lost weight, someone looks tired – it is no different. the trees have leafed, the underbrush has been knocked over, the game trail is tamped down, the may apple has flowered, the wild geranium is prolific, the river is high, the river is low, the turtles have come out, the beaver dam is bigger.

we talk about our river trail a lot because we hike it a lot. though we’d prefer it to be different, we see it more than we see any member of our family.

this particular day – when the sky was a perfect sky-blue, when the river was high enough to cover the logs where the turtles sun, when purple fleabane budded next to its white-daisy-bloom predecessor, when the great blue heron joined the cranes flying the river, when the color green had more hues than any person might imagine – this day was a reminder of how well we knew this trail, its turns, the gifts of the familiar and the magic of the unexpected.

and there is this high spot on the trail where we stand and look out over the meadow, over the marsh, over the river. and i stood – still – looking at where the trees met the sky, all glorious, listening to the sounds on the breeze, feeling the sun on my face and my feet on the ground – standing still – and felt the insanity of being alive.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly impact an artist whose work somehow impacts you. xoxo


by 2 Comments

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

there are great white trillium all over the woods now. beautiful big blooms lighting up the underbrush, making the forest brilliant. they precede the may apples and have more pizazz than the maroon prairie trillium. they get our attention.

it’s not easy to capture a good photograph of great white trillium. not because they are elusive or shy, but because they reflect back sunlight and the images tend to be somewhat blurry, details burned out into flat white. i felt fortunate with this photograph. even the specks of pollen off the yellow pistils are visible.

and then i noticed it. the shadow. the tiny dandelion next to the trillium was casting a shadow onto the delicate petal.

when i first noticed – further down the trail – i thought that i had missed my shot – that the interrupted petal somehow blemished the photograph.

the more i studied it, the more i realized how very lucky i had been – to capture the very moment in the sun’s angle that this little dandelion made a distinct shadow on its neighboring wildflower.

sometimes we don’t realize how imperfection is simply perfect.

what looks like wreckage is that which welcomes grace, how a broken road reveals the right path, how organic surpasses the staged, how cobbled-together – all the moments of bliss and the moments we think are shadowed with ruin – our lives really are, how imperfection is actually perfect.

what we thought was the wrong shot is – in reality – the right shot.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

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


by 3 Comments

at home. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

a few years ago we watched a show about housing in the bay area of california. the housing crunch was producing outlandishly high rents, making it impossible for workers – particularly younger people at the outset of their careers – to live anywhere near where they worked. an answer – it seemed – was to offer sleeping pods – bunk bed pods stacked upon each other or next to each other – in a communal living space. with very mixed reviews to these confined space morsels, people moved in and made tiny personal space within communal living their home.

in the many years that our girl was working in the snow industry of the high elevation mountains, she – like every other professional snowboard or ski coach or instructor, every other industry worker from restaurants, boutiques, ski shops, etc – was faced with the impossible task of finding a place to live. costs far outweighed earnings and, so, either these dedicated employees shared spaces (often questionably-worthy of passing basic health standards) renting the rights to a bedroom and a shelf in the refrigerator or they drove extended commutes in all kinds of treacherous weather. it was nerve-wracking, to say the least, as a mom – ever concerned with the daily living conditions of her child (who was far more tolerant of the living conditions than i might have been). post-pandemic exacerbated these circumstances and rentals are scarce or aggressively priced.

for the longest time we have watched house hunters on hgtv. though there are many fix-up kinds of shows, our favorite is the basic house hunters where you watch people select a home to purchase from three homes you virtually-visit with them. you are aware that there have been many other homes considered before this ultimate decision, but you are steeped in the choice between three – with the information of their purchasing budget, their desired amenities and location and a walking tour through the house. it is astounding to us – over and over again – how much a basic house costs these days. we watch – totally immersed – and try to decide which house will be chosen, always blown away by what that choice will cost the buyers.

and each day – for a multitude of reasons – we thank our own home. its old house juju suits us. it is our sanctuary. it looks like us, feels like us, buffets us from the world and renews us. every one of its quirks – that we love – reminds us to love our own quirks. every one of its tiny beauties reminds us of our own tiny beauties. we find peace there and we find a jumping-off place for challenges and self-exploration.

and as i write this, i am aware that – if we are lucky enough to have any physical place we call home – we each make it into what we need. we embrace whatever its circumstance, its location, its imperfection or perfection. we find the space where we feel comfort and reassurance and the ability to be exactly who we are.

some day we would love to travel in an old vw minibus (or one of those amazing converted vans our son-in-law creates), carrying with us all we need for extended periods of time, seeking home in high mountains and canyonlands, deserts or meadowlands, atlantic or pacific beaches, northern forests.

some day we would love to thru-hike one of the national trails, carrying all we need in backpacks on our backs.

either way, i’m pretty certain – even now, even before we have tried either dream – we will feel at home, at peace, in our skin.

“remember, the entrance door to the sanctuary is inside you.” (rumi)

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this DR THURSDAY

like. share. subscribe. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

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


by 1 Comment

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

there are 6186 photos on my phone that – in some shape or form – are photos of the sky. there are 2400 that are of clouds. i’m pretty sure there’s some overlap there. but that is a lot of photos looking up.

with yet another storm watch in the state – on an unusually warm late april night – we sat out on the deck with 20 watching the sky. i took pictures. it felt like a summer night – minus the mosquitos – and we adirondack-chair-sat for quite a while, intermittent conversation and laughter punctuating the quiet.

as i’ve previously written about, we pay attention to storm watches and warnings. we use our weather app to track the arriving front systems, to watch the hourly forecast. we depend on it to make good decisions for our safety.

i remember a roadtrip – crossing through the state of wyoming – trying to outrun a giant dark greenish sky that seemed to be chasing after us. littlebabyscion has never zipped along as fast as it did that day. i remember d carrying dogga downstairs to the basement, with supplies and important papers, all while the tornado siren was sounding outside. i remember – way back in the day – laying in a ditch in the middle of rural illinois somewhere while vacationing at my big brother’s, his vehicle parked on the grassy shoulder of the county road on which we had been driving. i remember – not too long ago – just last june – sitting in littlebabyscion literally tucked up against a brick restaurant after-hours as we tried to evade the tornadic wind that had lifted us up off the open parking lot.

each time we made efforts – to use caution, to think-it-through, to be reasonably safe – and we took action. each time survival was the end goal. the storms of climate change are becoming apocalyptic – severe, with devastating consequences. we do our best to be knowledgeable, alerted, constructive.

the gale force winds of corruption are whirling around us. we must use caution, must think-it-through, must be reasonably safe, must take action. survival is the end goal. the collapsing of democracy is apocalyptic — severe, with devastating consequences.

we must all do our best.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

browse DAVID’s online gallery

like. subscribe. share. support. comment. – thank you. xoxo

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