reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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undressed inchworms. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

embrace of life – by mimi webster, the john denver sanctuary, aspen, colorado

THIS is how i feel in the mountains.

all worries, concerns, things we are suffering or things too complex – shed – as clothing falling off, a nakedness of joy, exulting in the sky, the purity of air, the scent of early spring in high elevation.

THIS is how i feel there.

it is not unlike how i feel at the side of the ocean, with waves lapping my feet, infinite blue meeting aqua on a horizon too far away to particularly discern, salt air sticking to my hair, sun beating down, uninhibited.

it is recent discovery that we realize it is a new time. though we both are – and have been – aware of the tenuousness, aware of how nebulous it all is – and one of us distinctly more thready than the other – we are beginning to see life in smaller morsels. we are not sprinting past on our way to somewhere which will ultimately be on the way to somewhere else. instead, we are slower and more deliberate. we are undressed inchworms – exposed – in miles and miles of life. intentionally.

at the entrance to the john denver sanctuary, embrace of life stands, gloriously. i needed no reminder. i walked in – throwing my head back to the sky – throwing my arms out to collect it all, to wrap in it, to bring it all home. my heart is open. wide open. air rushes in as we walk among boulders chiseled with lyrics and prose. each moment is shimmering.

THIS is how i feel.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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

“in rivers, the water you touch is the last of which has passed and the first of that which comes: so it is with time present.” (leonardo da vinci)

fluid.

never static.

this is something we rarely remember. this is something we often forget.

evanescent, filmy, gossamer-winged time. showing up. disappearing.

too little to waste, too fragile to fritter away.

we reach to hold onto the tailfeathers of the river and keep flying.

*****

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

at the john denver sanctuary – aspen, colorado

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

buymeacoffee is a tip-jar website where you may help support the continuing creating of artists whose work is meaningful to you.


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slow. slow. [two artists tuesday]

deer in woods copy.PNG

slow. slow.  when we drove home the other day, we realized how very slowly we were moving here on island.  the comparison began the instant we were on the mainland.  we hadn’t driven over 40mph for a couple weeks; suddenly we could feel the push, the frenzy to get somewhere, fast, faster.  it’s pervasive, that frenetic energy, and the closer we got to milwaukee, the more we could feel it.  our heartbeats raced as cars darted in and out of lanes, as horns beeped and drivers gestured impatiently.  no one noticed each other.  they just drove, destination their only intention.

slow. slow.  we walked home the other night.  after porch-sitting and having a short meeting, we ambled down the middle of the road.  no one was coming; no one passed us.  the interruption in quiet would have alerted us to any oncoming car.  we shared the woods around us with a deer, who was still, watching us for signs if we were going to approach.  our pause on the road and our slow movements convinced the deer to not run, but to stay and just be still.  to watch.  an eagle flew above us.  looking up, there was a moment we recognized that this eagle saw us.   the deer, the eagle, noticed us.  we were in the world together in those moments.  no intention but to breathe the same air.

slow. slow.  we are learning, slowly, about this community.  connecting the dots, discerning the culture, perceiving the nuances.  we are studying this place that is our job – a performing arts center with 250 seats on a tiny island you can only get to by ferry.  a step away-away.  a place in which we want to elevate artistry and growth.  we move slowly, thoughtfully.  our intention, our work, the maturing of this place that has been germinated and cared for.  a rich garden, a rich forest of verdant adolescence, waiting to flourish.  slow.  slow.

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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