reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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plan ahead. [merely-a-thought monday]

chip hailstone box copy 3

my poppo would probably have liked chip hailstone.  an as-long-as-i-can-remember subscriber of national geographic, i imagine he would have liked the show ‘life below zero’.  he was good at solving problems, figuring things out, making stuff out of nothing.  his words of wisdom were simple.  “plan ahead,” he would say.   he was a card-holding-club-member-regular-reader of the handyman magazine; he easily could have been a contributing writer.  he would have loved chip hailstone’s comment, “you can make a long piece of wood short, but you can’t make a short piece of wood long.”  ahyup.  it’s in the details.  plan ahead.

we were coffee-sitting around the kitchen table.  it was a late florida morning, years ago now, and coffee break time was an every-day thing.  my dad suddenly got up from his chair and left the room, using his “stick” to get to the bedroom and back.  he returned moments later and started to speak.  “i have something for you, brat,” he started.  “with these years on your own you have learned so much out of necessity.  it’s time for you to have this.  you have earned it.”  he handed me his handyman club membership card and said, “this is yours now.  i’m proud of you.”

it was big news to get this card from my poppo and i didn’t underestimate its import. it would not have made me more gratified to receive a grammy award.  his -my- membership card is in plain view in my studio, reminding me of my dad and his words to me.

we watch ‘life below zero’ episodes and there are simple wisdoms dancing throughout the show.  things i can hear my dad say in his brooklyn accent.  things you think, “well, duh, of course.”  the same things you realize after-the-fact that you should have thought about before-the-fact.  yup, poppo.  plan ahead.

poppo & handyman club

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

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you hold me. [k.s. friday]

YOU HOLD ME songbox copy

‘you-hold-me’s i will always remember…  among the more-than-i-can-count-mom-heart-moments, one of the last times My Boy fell asleep on my lap and i knew – at the age he was then, rounding 5 or 6 – it was something to hold onto.  or the time he, all-grown-up, bent down and, one more time, hugged me goodbye.  precious time dancing to marvin gaye with My Girl in the sitting room, her favorite infant-lullaby.  the bittersweet-tender-time-stood-still time she – as an adult – fell asleep while i held her.   in o’hare airport when d just held me while, with people swirling around us, we were lost in reuniting, in recognition.   the greetings we get from dogdog and babycat every single time we arrive home.  the hugs we get inside the door to our best friends’ house, their big beloved dogs jostling for attention.  the memory of watching my sweet momma and poppo hold hands as they walked, always…those linked hands grasping each other.  watching my momma hold my dad’s hand at the side of his last hospital bed, nodding off, both of them, but holding on.  ‘you-hold-me’s aren’t always just about you.

in these times, in any time, the simple feeling of being held – a quick hug or embrace that goes on and on – is the one true thing.  it doesn’t solve any problem, take away a worry, change any circumstance.  but it is a reminder that you are not alone.  you are woven of and into so much more.  and you are held – by your family, by your children, by your friends, by this good earth, by a higher power.  in appreciation of you.  in a bigger thing called love.

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read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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YOU HOLD ME from THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY ©️ 1997 & 2000 kerri sherwood

 

 


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chasing bubbles. [d.r. thursday]

morsel copy

nancy wrote that they added a drop of food coloring to the bubble mix for sweet lily.  it must have been enchanting…colorful bubbles in way-below-freezing temperatures, crystalizing, transformed by the absolute cold.  i know there are bubbles in this house; i just have to find them.  and then, next time, i will be out on our back deck, wand in hand.

there really is something about bubbles.  in the summer, at the farmer’s market they sell gigantic bubble wands.  while browsing one day, there was this little girl….chasing these enormous bubbles.  no worries on her mind, just arms outstretched, running, ready to embrace oversized magic.  it instantly reminded us of the innocence of a child, the seizing of something simple, the joyous caress of a moment.

this morsel and this not-quite-done-painting CHASING BUBBLES make me want to run into the sunshine or, perhaps, the falling snow, and chase iridescent dreams.

Bubble Chaser in process copy

CHASING BUBBLES mixed media 33″x48″

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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CHASING BUBBLES ©️ 2019 david robinson & kerri sherwood


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a small adjustment. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

comingtoyoufrommegaphone copy

we sat arm-in-arm in the megaphone.  we had been hiking in the snowy woods and it was the driest place to sit.  we’ve written about this megaphone before; it is a nature megaphone and it is supposed to amplify the sounds of nature from the woods and into the woods.  because someone didn’t maybe quite get the purpose, the megaphone is actually pulling sound from the street – a county highway through the woods on the narrow side of the amplifier, the side that draws in sound.  a small adjustment in its location would afford it the purpose for which it was designed.  it was built lovingly as an eagle scout project, but until this small adjustment in placement happens it will, unfortunately, not be as effective as it could be.

a small adjustment.  how many times would just a small adjustment create a path closer to success, a path more in alignment with purpose, a path that maximizes effectiveness, a megaphone that actually amplifies the amazing nature in the woods?  we get stuck in a line of thinking and, full-speed-ahead, think that is the only route, the only way.  until someone says something – a suggestion of a small adjustment – in thinking, in action, in REaction, in placement of our focus.  an ah-ha moment.

in the recording studio, as really in every musical performance, there is a groove.  it is the place where the tempo of the piece being played is “right”… everything comes together and syncs, the intent of the piece shines.  sensitive musicians and conductors can feel any deviation from that groove.  when it’s off, too slow, too fast, it doesn’t deliver the same emotional message.  just a slight adjustment brings it into center.

it’s the same with tuning.  A440 pitch is the universal standard tuning pitch.  a quarter tone off here or there makes a difference; not only can you hear this slight adjustment, but you can feel that the vibration is quivering, off its mark.

two people.  a difference of opinion.  the quivering vibration is palpable.  a small adjustment left or right, quietly spoken or wisely quiet, pivots them back to the heart-core, brings back solid ground.

that same kind of vibration…present in any gathering of people…in sync or magnets repelling each other…with underlying fields of pre-formed assumptions getting in the way of the small slight adjustments needed – the ah-ha’s – to be in actual alignment, stronger together than separate, amplifying the real sound of this earth – in the groove, in tune, on the mark, grounded, mutually, cooperatively, collaboratively on-purpose.

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

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oy! [two artists tuesday]

OY copy

i recently read these words in a written interview:  “i believe in a benevolent universe.”  i wrote it down.  “a benevolent universe” is a good mantra.  i have never met the person who wrote this, but i already like her.

i believe in joy.  finding joy.  leading with joy.  the word JOY has a prominent home in our kitchen.  above our big old sink, over the backyard window, sitting on top of the wooden window cornice sit the metal letters J-O-Y.  lately, the J is refusing to stay standing.  we’ll walk into the kitchen and the word OY is there.  OY has a totally different connotation than JOY, but i must say that -right now- OY! also fits.

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OY definition

having grown up on long island this is not an unfamiliar phrase to me.  i have used “OY!” a time or two or maybe a few dozen more.  right now, though, i ponder why OY keeps appearing in our kitchen.   is it a message?  is it empathic support from afar?

each time i fix OY back to JOY i laugh aloud.  and i wonder when OY will reappear.  what does it all mean?  does it mean anything at all?  what message do we want in our kitchen on the top of the cornice over the window gracing the sink?  it’s like a 70s mood ring, the thermotropic liquid crystals, moving with temperature change causing color change, flip-flopping within your own little world.  what is causing our J to fall?

is it JOY or OY?  hm.  either way, no matter what we are experiencing at the moment, i do trust that yes, ultimately, it is a benevolent universe.

read DAVID’S thoughts about OY! this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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conversation. [merely-a-thought monday]

where you can actually hear copy

we started our day with mimosas.  the up-north-gang was in cedarburg and we descended upon the stagecoach inn’s pub, a place built in 1853, dedicated to their bed & breakfast.  we sat at wood and iron tables surrounded by vintage stone and brick walls and chatted away a very fast almost-two-hours.  we hadn’t ever been at this little pub before to start our winterfest fun.  but it was perfect and it was an easy choice when the day was over and we stopped back there to sip wine or old-fashioneds (a wisconsin staple), review the parade and bed races on the river and talk about any old thing.  i grabbed a brochure (because i, well, love brochures) and looked at it later at home.  “where you can actually hear your conversation” the little pub (named the five20 social stop) advertised.  it was true.  it was refreshing to be able to actually have a conversation and hear each other.

we do our best work in the woods.  d and i will take a walk and solve things that have stymied us.   the quiet, the beauty – it’s centering and it removes all the interruptions of home-office-work.  it offers us a chance to actually have a conversation and hear each other.

at this point, i don’t know what it would take for this world, this country, our state, our community to actually have conversations and hear each other.  so many seem to be yelling, reacting.  certainly not conversing.  it’s tempting to turn off the news app on my phone, but i don’t want to bury my head in the sand.  and yet, lately, this earth seems oddly tilted on its axis, bent on anger and strife, inflated egos, name-calling, exponential self-serving, and pointed blame.  it’s all so toxic.  where is the listening going on?

i would think about suggesting mimosas and a walk in the woods but, with all the noise out there, i don’t know who would hear me.

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

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transience. [k.s. friday]

TRANSIENCE songbox copy

“…dawn turns to daylight. to dusk. to full darkness. always to dawn again…” (liner notes)

brad's snowman

brad built a snowman in the woods while we were snowshoeing.  with a nod to our wit and creative pet-names, he cleverly named it “snowman-snowman”.  he was a charming snowman and we lingered by him for a bit, all chatting in the quiet woods.  because he is, well, a snowman, we left him behind as we continued on the trails.

yesterday we went back to the woods.  there was still snow, even more in some places.  but when we got to the spot where the trails split off, i, sadly, saw that snowman-snowman was no longer there.  i didn’t talk about it.  the magic of snowman-snowman was still in the air despite his absence on the trail.

we hiked a bit farther into the woods and when we stopped for a moment, i started packing together some snow.  it was that really-good-packing-snow, so “valentino” came together easily.  we searched for his eyes and the perfect nose, tucked a feather-leaf in his ‘cap’ and fell in love with our little snowman.  his magic was instant.

our snowman

transient.  all daylight.  all snowmen.  all of us.  life.  it’s a minor key.  all-consumingly-beautiful.  gut-wrenchingly-fleeting.  every reason to revel in every ray of sun, build a snowman, embrace those you love, bravely live every moment.  even if our footprints aren’t still visible, our magic stays in the air.

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TRANSIENCE from RIGHT NOW ©️ 2010 kerri sherwood

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


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we jump anyway. [d. r. thursday]

without risk close no lines copy

i searched for quotes about risk.  there are a plethora of them out there.  then i realized that maybe the best one for today was already there – no good adventure is without risk.  there are no guarantees in life.  we all know that.  nothing that says if you do this, that will definitely happen.  the ifs-thens are not absolute.  the ifs-thens aren’t even, well, iffy on occasion.  and sometimes there’s no chance in hell that an adventure, an experiment, an endeavor will work out.  we jump anyway.

in this anniversary week of THE MELANGE, we’ve done a great deal of looking back at our jumping.  those jumps reach much further back than just this past year.  as two artists living together, two artists working together, two artists laughing and breathing and arguing together, we have experienced lots of falling-into-the-water as we’ve gone.  our individual artistry output pre-dates this year by decades.  epic moments of success are conjoined with moments of missing the next rock in the stream (see CHICKEN MARSALA sketch above to see what that looks like.)  but, even knowing that – by reverse-threading now – in looking ahead, at all the mystery of that, we jump anyway.

nothing worth doing comes without hard work.  no good adventure is without risk.  there are no guarantees.  all wise words.  all daunting.  we jump anyway.

risk full version no lines copy

read DAVID’S thoughts this ANNIVERSARY MELANGE D.R. THURSDAY

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THE MELANGE ©️ 2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood

images in THE MELANGE ©️ 2016-2019 david robinson & kerri sherwood

CHICKEN MARSALA ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood

 

 


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187. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

187 box framed copy

i had no idea how much i would love designing.  through the first ten years or so of album covers, i watched.  i sat with my dear friend 20 as he designed so many of my CD jackets and tray cards.  i learned a lot.  not about how to use photoshop or illustrator or quark but i learned about balance and clean design and how to “see”.  so when we started designing for THE MELANGE, that part came more easily.  the photoshop part?  well, that had a bigger learning curve (as does website designing.)  manipulating images and navigating programs without real directions can be a challenge, but i was up for it.  lots of learning.

the thing that really surprised us was when we looked at each of our society6.com stores this week and literally counted our product lines.   there are 187!  187 lines created across the five stores.

187 product lines later, i look back in wonder.

mugs and laptop covers, tote bags, prints and cellphone cases, beach towels, shower curtains…not to mention leggings.  in the course of the last year, i have designed between 50 and 60 pairs of leggings.  leggings with morsels of david’s paintings, leggings with graphics we have designed or photographs we have taken, leggings with words of wisdom, leggings with punchlines, leggings with lyrics.  i was a leggings-designing-maniac.  i think about even just these leggings designed, available on an on-demand site, and think – we could have all those made and just sell them ourselves.  we could sell those designs elsewhere – to a company that already produces leggings.  we could open a shop with all these products – interesting, different, artistic, not mass-produced or mass-purchased.  we could…  there’s no telling what we could do.

i asked david if he knew how many blogposts there had been in this MELANGE year.  he had already done the math.  we each posted 260 posts, totalling 520.  that’s more than a few words, more than a few thoughts, more than a little heart.

immeasurable energy has been devoted to these designs, these blogs, to this MELANGE.  here – at the one-year-old mark – we are astounded by the amount of time and effort this has all taken.  and we look back in wonder.

what has been the reward?

there is no way to underestimate the power of i/we-can-do-this.  the sisu of sticking it out, meeting the challenge, staying in the game, learning.

THE MELANGE is celebrating one year.  but we are celebrating so much more than that.  we look forward in wonder.

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read DAVID’S thoughts on this ANNIVERSARY MELANGE NOT-SO-FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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THE MELANGE ©️ 2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood

images in THE MELANGE ©️ 2016-2019 david robinson & kerri sherwood

 

 


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feeling it. life. [two artists tuesday]

MelangeWk1 copy 2

in the beginning…..

i just re-read the first week of our MELANGE, a calendar-year ago now.  words about our little boy CHICKEN MARSALA, words spoken by my sweet momma, words about our community, words about david’s studio and my studio, two artists living together, and our own work-in-the-world.  i can feel it.  that first week.

we come to this place.  one year later.  i kind of want to go back and re-read each day.  study the images we chose, browse the products we created, watch the arc of changes in design through the year, notice the growth, the things we added, the things we let fall off.  somewhere around week 3 i wondered if i would have enough to say, enough words that would be interesting or, at-the-very-least, palatable, inviting for others to read.

i write from my heart, most of it experiential…moments i have netted and captured, written down to hold onto the feeling-of-it.  i wondered if that might be too….much…for some.  in the middle of living life, i want to remember some of the tiniest morsels of time, layered in the sedimentary layers, bits of shining mica in the middle of ordinary….mica that is celebration, that is eye-opening, that is excruciatingly simple bliss,  that is painful, that is full of maturing, that is on-the-edge-of-your-seat-nerve-wracking, that is full of hopes and dreams and regrets…all mica indeed.

“live life, my sweet potato,” my sweet momma said to me.  yes, momma.  this sweet potato is feeling it.

live life sweet potato mug

live life sweet potato pillow

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