reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

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all somebodies. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

“these incredibly brave survivors speaking out about unspeakable things. it changes your entire f—ing life” (valerie bertinelli)

they were walking toward us slowly, pushing a walker, every now and then stopping to dance a little in place. it is hard not to jive to the EDM music – it sets your spirit free and makes you dance. our son and his collaborator were lighting a fire under a massive audience dancing on waveland and halsted at chicago’s PRIDEFEST.

i noticed their shirt. “i am somebody” it read. i nodded.

it was clear that this person was struggling with something that physically debilitated them, their gait awkward, their pain visible. still, they danced and smiled and fistpumped the air and all of us around them cheered. yes, i thought, you are indeed somebody.

yet this country is working on eliminating all kinds of help for the disabled: medicaid, healthcare, food assistance, education. conniving to make somebodies into nobodies.

the guy in the crowd was visibly upset. he didn’t just hug the people nearby, he clung to them, crying. something was moving him profoundly. i don’t know what it was. but every person near him was acknowledging these moments of catharsis, these moments when he – this somebody – needed their support and love.

i weaved through the tight crowd to get to the front of the stage while we were at milwaukee PRIDEFEST so that i could get close-up photographs of our son on stage. once at the edge of the stage – smushed – i started snapping pictures. the guy next to me turned and looked at me as i was feverishly snap-snap-snapping and said, “this is my first time at pride!” he was elated, joy beaming from his face. it clearly meant the world to him to be there – celebrating – for the first time – maybe being openly authentic in public – for the first time. i was thrilled for him and we hugged. he took out a big handheld fan and fanned me while i – in the humid heat of the pavilion – took more photos. he sought me out in the crowd a few more times, every time this somebody glowing, this giant crowd of people embracing him.

and the administration of this nation – in a disgusting display of homophobia beyond the pale – is going after the very rights of the LGBTQIA community, rabidly seeking to foist their own version of love and sexuality upon all.

in recent days i have read a post with passionately evil words beyond what i can even describe nor care to describe. it was written about alex pretti and renee good. both somebodies who were doing the right thing against horrifically extremist deportation intent. these young people – the same ages as our daughter – lost their lives at the hands of this government. these somebodies who deserve to be here still, living, breathing, celebrating and – yes – constitutionally pushing back.

and now – beyond the evil intentions already in place – in an unconscionable decision by the supreme court, hundreds of thousands of real-live somebodies will likely be hunted down, merely for the beautiful brown color of their skin, a product of where they are from, where they have escaped, from which they have sought legal asylum.

and the statue of liberty in the new york harbor reads, “give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…”

your somebodies.

i just read an article about a woman in texas suffering from a miscarriage. she sought medical assistance only to be turned away twice at hospitals afraid to treat her because of the unbelievably extensive abortion ban. doctors were fearful to help her. her condition worsened and, though it is not hyperbolic to say that many women can experience acute distress from the complications of miscarriage, they still did nothing.

this nation is actively seeking – and succeeding in – limiting the rights of women as they seek care for their own bodies, unconscionably imperiling them. somebodies.

i have watched the epstein survivors many times now, speaking out about the atrocities they endured – at the hands of so many heinous people who have not been brought to justice, whose culpability slips into oblivion as institutions – with twisted mission – protect them. i could feel their pain, their frustration, their horror at the culture of complicity, of silence, of irresponsibility, of unconcern, of sloughing them off. and in those moments i have whispered to them how very much a somebody they each are and how very much they count.

“it happened. it was wrong. it matters.” (deborah tuerkheimer – credible: why we doubt accusers and protect abusers)

i can so relate. i, too, am a somebody.

“…brave survivors speaking out about unspeakable things…”

so many unspeakable things.

changing entire lives.

it’s all too much.

we are ALL somebodies.

“we hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. –that to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed, –that whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness.” (from: preamble to the united states declaration of independence)

somebody.

somebodies.

“…you are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here…(max ehrmann – desiderata)

*****

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

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zig choices. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

“because of some strange little voice inside, i zigged where i was expected to zag…”(anna quindlen)

aging is a funny thing. you come screeching to a halt at this place – a kind of dr. seuss waiting place – and you have the chance to make some decisions. which way do you go now? what route do you take? where are you headed?

or maybe you come screeching to a halt – having been on this one solid path – to a place – a kind of dr. seuss waiting place – and you linger there, looking around, out of breath and a little bit tired. in front of you, choices fan out, beckoning you. you sit down, in the lazy boy of havinggottenthere and you ponder, panting, exhausted.

for, all of a sudden, you don’t feel compelled to drive forward on one straight line. you are suddenly empowered by the realization that none of it – and all of it – counts. you have begun to realize that the dust you will leave behind will not be measured by accomplishment. it, likely, won’t even be remembered by accomplishment. for those things dim and boxes of those remain in the basement, ready for some thrift store or antique shoppe. mementos have gathered dust and certificates have faded on office walls. the hills you climbed, the battles you waged, they have evanesced. the trophies, the medals, the awards, the stock options – all so greatly valued at one time – have lost their lustre.

so you take stock. your havinggottenthere lazy boy slowly rocks while you stare ahead and think about what path might “align with your purpose, peace and trust in the future” (the “best path” as defined by google).

and something is itching inside you to go rogue, to take a path no one expects, to zig where they expect you to zag.

and, as it appears on the twiggy hogweed map, you can always backtrack back to the waiting place – to re-evaluate, to rest, to try something else on for size.

there is a freedom to this aging thing. (granted, there would be more of a freedom if there was not chaos.)

this freedom to explore without expectation, to try without any measure of succeeding, to grab onto more experiences – but without preconceived notions, to discard the safe path and embrace a bit of fear, to muse-work and branch-out or sit-and-stare with abandon.

there is a freedom knowing that as much as one matters, our tiny existence is yet tiny. and what we feel at dawn as we breathe in early spring-like air or listen to birds collecting at the feeder or pull up the covers for just a little longer – all that matters.

there are moments i am stunned by the ability to feel. physically. emotionally. the ability to FEEL. it’s shocking. i recognize that there have been days – maybe even weeks or months or years – when i paid little to no heed to being able to feel. lost in the mayhem of everylittlethingthatmustgetdone i missed it. we have all been racing to finish.

and yet, here we are – in this time of utter chaos – where everything seems upside down, corruption is rampant, the country is flailing while its leaders violently push it backwards, isolate it, make it a pariah – and THIS happens to be our time.

we feel bits of wisdom pop up evvvvvery now and again, evvvvvvery here and there, through fallowed earth like snowdrops or crocuses desperate to emerge. we stand up. we speak up. we speak out. we cuss. we bellylaugh. we rail. we inhale, another deep breath.

we are feeling. we are making time to feel.

we are considering our zigs.

*****

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

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my one wish. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

sometime last week we noticed it. tucked into one of the trees along the lakefront park was this tiny “wishing palace”. i took a photo but didn’t make a wish. i’m thinking i should have made a wish. and now i’m thinking that every time we walk past this tree, we should stop and make a wish.

it’s the what-would-i-wish-for that’s tough, though.

because right now? there are too many things to wish. where does one start? what one thing might be the umbrella over all i would hope for?

how do i wrap up all the goodness i would wish for this country, this world? how do i wish for kindness to lead the way? how do i wish for equality and fairness, decency and compassion? how do i wish for all to live in peace? what is the wish when one desires everyone – every. one. – to have a fair shake at living well, at healthcare, at having food and shelter and necessities, at feeling valued? how do i wish for people to have opportunities for good work, for making a difference for others, for respect? how do i express a wish to dispel bigotry and racism, xenophobia, homophobia, misogyny, caste ladders of supposed entitlement? how do i wish for a stop to fealty to those who promote utter brutality and unconscionable treatment of others?

i’m gonna wish for everyone to awaken to the basics of humanity, to the golden rule (paraphrasing: do unto others as you would wish them to do unto you), to the elimination of cruelty and ruthless sadism, for evil intentions to be overcome by noble benevolence, for people to support one another.

but, you say, that’s a lot to wish for. what is your one wish? the one thing that embraces all of these, that overarches every virtuous wish?

i’m gonna wish for wokeness.

*****

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

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what i said. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

it is impossible to even know what to say about this.

every day i wake up. the sun has not yet risen, the window is open; i hear the birds singing close by and in the distance. dogga stands and shakes in the adjacent sitting room where he likes to sleep at the end of the night, his collar making that tiny clinking sound from the attached tags. he comes in and jumps on the bed, his wagawag wagging.

and then – somewhere between the delicious unconsciousness of slumber and the first sip of coffee – i remember.

and, in all honesty, i cannot believe where this country is at.

it is beyond any wildly-imagined scope of shameful.

“mmm mm mmmmm mm.“

what i said.

*****

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free to be. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

no matter how many fresnels, how many gels, how many follow spots, how many tracks, how much confetti, how many bubbles, how many furries – it does not match the energy in the giant pavilion as it built through their performance.

our son and his musical EDM duo partner aced their set – their music setting the heartbeat – and, from a new vantage point in the middle of the crowd, it was sheer joy to watch.

PRIDE milwaukee was a celebration of freedom – freedom to respectfully love whomever you choose to love. there is nothing like being embraced and encouraged by a festival-sized crowd to be whoever you are. it’s like there was a mash-up of the words of cher’s “believe” and marlo thomas’ “free to be” ringing in my ears. empowering. tolerance.

and i stood in the middle of all of these thousands of people – all just being who they are, all dancing and laughing and hugging and feeling in their skin – wondering how anyone can reject acceptance, how anyone can squelch love and draw parameters, how anyone can vote against LGBTQ rights and freedoms, how anyone can wish to instill fear in a community, how anyone can righteously think they are above others.

i was proud to be at PRIDE.

one of our son’s friends said, “you are such supportive parents.”. i thought to myself – wow – that’s redundancy at its best – “supportive” and “parents”. aren’t they one and the same?

yes, i was proud to be at PRIDE.

on saturday night, surrounded by thousands of others, i danced with my hands to the sky, grateful to be here in this community of people loving people, granting each other the freedom to be, grateful to choose to be a mom who was there.

and then, the reality of right-now crept in.

and i thought about the peril part. the danger of this precipice between democratic freedom and autocratic elimination of rights, of silencing LGBTQ, of the denial of acceptance and empowerment and support.

and i thought of the deplorable act of voting for this abhorrent administration – against family members or friends or people in one’s own community.

i thought about ALL the cruel policies, sweeping up and discarding in the name of xenophobia and racism, banning rights, freedoms, hotlines to help, books, HIV/AIDS resources in the name of homophobia, gleefully destroying healthcare, food security, assistance in the name of oligarch wealth. it’s sickening.

“there’s a land that i see/where the children are free/and i say it ain’t far to this land from where we are/take my hand, come with me/where the children are free/come with me, take my hand, and we’ll live

in a land where the river runs free/in a land through the green country/in a land to a shining see/and you and me are free to be/you and me

every boy in this land grows to be his own man/in this land, every girl grows to be her own woman/take my hand, come with me/where the children are free/come with me, take my hand, and we’ll run

to a land where the river runs free/to a land through the green country/to a land to a shining sea/to a land where the horses run free/to a land where the children are free

and you and me are free to be/and you and me are free to be/and you are me are free to be you and me” (1972…free to be…you and me – stephen lawrence/bruce hart)

and, astonished at the speed at which evil takes over, i wondered: where did this land go?

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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riding wild horses. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

david, mark and i stood by the dyed harbor in the wind. mark commented that he did not have a painting of st patrick’s day green, rusty brown, cement beige. we told him that he did now. because we had made it so – as we stood there – “totally looks like a mark rothko,” we opined as we viewed the photograph i had just taken. mark laughed – in that other-dimension way we imagined. i reminded him of green and maroon – and my dedication to this painting at the milwaukee art museum. he was amused and agreed that emerald, rust and cement was – maybe – a worthy addition.

david just finished a piece he painted for me. it is stunning, both visually and emotionally. a really large canvas, it will find a home in my studio, where i can be reminded of the freedom – of space, of life, of voice, of love – it represents.

i have always wanted a horse and so he gave me one. this painting. and you can see – by the repose of my face – how undeniably happy it makes me, the peace it bestows, breathing the very air of all the universe.

it is said that mark rothko sought to make paintings that would bring people to tears. “i’m interested only in expressing basic human emotions – tragedy, ecstasy, doom and so on.” as an artist, i cannot imagine any other reason to create other than to tap in, to elicit, evoke, to acknowledge human emotions.

when i stepped onto the floor of the basement – off the last wooden step – i stared at the painting in progress. it was potent for me. it was a painting of an arrival, of sorts. though David’s title is in dreams she rides wild horses, the reality for me is the wild horse of voice. it is the gallop of speech, the beginning of the release of silence, the horse i never yet had. i wept as i told him.

mark appeared suddenly, standing on the basement floor with me. he stepped under one of the studio spotlights and called over to d, “good work, robinson. way to make her cry.”

d looked surprised and glanced at me calling back, “thanks, rothko!” before i wrapped my grateful arms around him, “yeah, good work, robinson.”

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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yours. ours. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

the kohls department store shopping bag reads, “your community is our community.”

you would think that would be a great motto for the “leadership” of the united states government.

yeah. one big happy community. supporting the needs and challenges of each other, working for each other – leaning on how we are all more alike than different, lifting each other up – together. it isn’t a difficult concept.

a good leader – for a community – a tapestry of different people woven together – empowers others, stands in humility and with courageous and ethical vision, leads by example…there are too many virtuous characteristics to list, none of which are embodied by the current leadership of this country.

their community is not our community. and that could not be more clear.

i’m pretty sure that when my grandfather arrived at ellis island, his cautious expectation was that of optimism. he had landed in a place of new promise, a place of new opportunity, a place of new community.

the current administration of the same country my grandfather chose is swiftly undermining every bit of promise, opportunity and community. my grandpa would be horrified.

i’m pretty sure that when my father enlisted in the army air corps to fight in World War II – and was subsequently shot down, missing in action, taken prisoner of war – he did so with democracy in his heart, placing his own life on the line in order to push back against fascism and authoritarianism, to fight for community, for freedom.

the current administration of the same country for which my father sacrificed is swiftly beating back every iota of democracy, of the constitution, shielding itself from checks and balances, blatantly aligning itself with authoritarians of the world, deliberately going rapid-speed down the road of dismantling the very principles for which my dad fought. my father would be horrified.

but as we travel down this road, oligarchs leading the worshiping lemmings over the cliff, it appears that there is no one in the parade paying attention to the demise. the madmen are gleefully creating their own community bubble – dollar bills by the billions the membrane that separates them from the rest of the sea of America’s humanity. the parade of sycophants is too busy saving their own political and financial agenda to concern themselves with their actual constituents. the supporters of this administration are complicit in the cruelty of what they are witnessing, schadenfreude taking over their minds and hearts, cheering from the sidelines, immersed in misinformation and the negligence of refusing to fact-check, the turning of their backs on their very communities.

it’s all vile.

and my grandfather and father are staring from another dimension, wide-eyed and fearful at the demolition of promise and opportunity for all, freedom for all, the obliteration of any ‘yours is ours’ in these un-united states, the dismantling of their own hard-won legacy and the annihilation of the legacy of america.

*****

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we voted for democracy. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

the canvasser walked up the driveway toward us. “well, there’s no doubt who you are voting for,” she stated and then continued, lifting up the democratic presidential candidate who had inspired her to hit the sidewalks, to knock on doors and talk to people.

“we already voted,” i smiled and told her, so she could breathe for a moment, replenish her energy and move on to the next house, with the hope that she could make a difference in this unparalleled election, an election of utmost importance to our country and its populace. i thanked her as she smiled wearily, turned and walked on.

yes. it is obvious who we voted for. we have zero need for this choice to be secretive.

we exercised our right – to vote – granted by amendments to the constitution of these united states.

we exercised our civic dedication – our duty – to democracy, voting for the most appropriate candidate to be president of these united states, the candidate who will uphold and protect that very democracy.

we exercised our right to vote to protect those rights, our freedoms, the constitution, its amendments, to protect these united states.

yes. we voted for kamala harris and tim walz. with gratitude for them.

because any other vote is a vote to undermine the privileges of freedom we – every single one of us – have in this country, to undermine the compassionate humanity we all share, to undermine the democracy of america.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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a season for pink. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

it is a season for pink.

a time for women. to stand up. to speak up. to speak out. to vote. a time for men. to stand up. to speak up. to speak out. to vote. in support of women.

though i have not remained quiet, i cannot be silent. i – literally – cannot stand the hypocrisy another second.

in a tip-of-the-iceberg quote from the maga candidate about illegal immigrants, an argument he has amplified over and over for remigrating as many non-whites as he can, “they’re bringing drugs. they’re bringing crime. they’re rapists.” (time magazine 2015)

my rapist was not an illlegal immigrant. he is a white citizen of the united states.

e. jean carroll’s rapist was not an illegal immigrant. he is a white citizen of the united states.

frankly, with my apology for the strong language, i am weary of the bullshit.

i am weary of the double-standard. i am weary of the lies, the warped narcissism, the self-aggrandizing, the distractions.

i am weary of this appalling concerted effort by white extreme misogynistic nationalists to limit women, to undermine their choice, to silence their voice.

i am weary of the rapist running for president. his vileness should have destroyed his presidential aspirations long ago.

but what i find even more unconscionable is the utter complicity of men and women who will vote for this repulsive movement, who will turn a blind eye, who will vote for this predator. how low will you go to sabotage your daughters, your mothers, your granddaughters, your sisters, your girlfriends? women, where is the value you place on womanhood, on yourself, on your freedoms, on how you have fought for and lived your actual life? and men? where is the value you place on womanhood? or don’t you?

stevie nicks says it well in her new song, the lighthouse: “don’t let them take your power…don’t leave it alone in the final hours. they’ll take your soul, they’ll take your power. don’t close your eyes and hope for the best. the dark is out there, the light is going fast until the final hours. your life’s forever changed and all the rights that you had yesterday are taken away. and now you’re afraid. you should be afraid, should be afraid….is it a nightmare? is it a lasting scar? it is, unless you save it and that’s that unless you stand up and take it back, take it back.”

we watched roed, a short video by dawn lambing, earlier this week. it took my breath away as it depicted two women pulled over, subjected to a urine pregnancy test on the side of the road. it was horrifying, and, in this maga-triumphant post-roe climate, not unlikely.

yet, this is the direction maga wants to go, this is just merely part of the road – the swift controlling highway – of project 2025. 925 pages of mandates to remove freedoms, to marginalize people, to undermine democracy, to abolish any checks and balances, a takeover of the federal government shifting power to an authoritarian leader, a document designed to rule the populace.

are you listening any more? are you paying attention? are you merely entertained by this chaos? have you considered this maga candidate’s incoherence, his ugly, his rhetoric, the propaganda?

or does the maga plan make you somehow feel good, feel powerful, feel justified in your complicity, in your support, in your vote??

have you THOUGHT about any of this? do you have a bottom line to feeding – what is obviously – your abundant hatred?

it’s unconscionable. and you know it.

and it makes me weep to think you think it is ok.

it is a season for pink.

“try to see the future and get mad. it’s slippin’ through your fingers. you don’t have what you had. you don’t have much time to get it back.”

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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trickle-down. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

you CAN feel it. there is hope in the air. there is light. there is possibility.

i – for one – am very, very, very tired of the darkness we have seen over the last decade. i am weary of the name-calling, the maga bastardizing of the honor of running for or being president, the hook-line-and-sinker of people who are in the trickle-down of mean-spiritedness, of incoherent narcissism, of a vector heading to autocracy.

i can feel the light and i am standing in it, proudly.

last saturday night i had an event that seemed in every way to be a heart event. for a half hour – in the wee hours of the night – i struggled with intense pain, wondering if there was a way that i could lessen it, wondering what to do. though i don’t necessarily feel 65, i know that i am 65 and so i was frightened.

we went to the ER to make sure this was not an emergency and, gratefully, the tests all came out fine. the mystery will be one for my personal physician and i to solve. but there is a learning – as always – here.

there is way too much darkness. in the middle of saturday night, while laying in bed thinking about life itself, i knew that the lesson presenting itself – the wisdom repeating itself – was none too small.

we have one opportunity to live this life. we can either live it ugly or live it with as much goodness as we can muster. we can greet each dawn with hope and light and generous possibility or we can perpetuate the dark of night, starless and with evil in our hearts.

i can feel it – this new hope surging through our nation. i can feel the energy, the light, a wide-open future full of wonder and blessed by simply breathing.

this trickle-down – of freedom and good intention – is contagious. the joy of the harris/walz campaign – the humanity of the harris/walz campaign – the spirit of the harris/walz campaign is washing over us.

and for that – and for sunday morning and each morning since – i am grateful.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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