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ks friday

i used to spend a lot of time driving across the country to wholesale shows where i would represent my cds and sell to stores everywhere that stocked music.  the world has changed since then and not only are there less boutique-type shops with original work (inexpensive copies have taken over), but there are few shops that actually sell physical cds.  in this world of downloading (read: streaming, but don’t get me started on THAT subject) it is hard for a proprietor to invest in anything they aren’t sure will fly out the door.

when i drove east with a vanload of boxes and merchandise, i would pass a lake called meander lake.  i looked forward to these signs and the view of this lovely lake through the trees.  the word “meander” conjured up images of every time i had taken the time to do just that:  meander.  on a back road, on a trail in the mountains, in the woods in a state park, along the lake, through a magazine or book, or in my mind’s eye.  i am a meanderer.  i believe i come by it naturally; my sweet momma loved meandering…any day she would suggest a car drive or a bike hike to some distant spot, meandering on the way.  she wasn’t afraid of getting lost; for her, meandering WAS the meaning in the time spent.

sitting at yamaha artist services in nyc i had a list of titles i had collected, words that had spoken to me or touched my heart.  “meander” was on that list.  with “record” on, i simply ‘played’ the word “meander.”  the amazing “fine” ken orchestrated this piece back in chicago, bringing in musicians to add tracks.

sitting next to me right now, david just listened to it.  the richness of that orchestration wrapped around me and i was back on I-76, jotting down on a scrap of paper the word “meander.”

MEANDER from the album AS IT IS track 3 on iTunes

MEANDER from the album AS IT IS track 3 on CDBaby

read DAVID’S thoughts about MEANDER

 

 

 

MEANDER from AS IT IS ©️ 2002 kerri sherwood

 


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two artists tuesday

brave-poster-jpegthis one’s hard.  i’ve written about bravery before.  i’ve written about women with backbone.  i’ve written about holding to truths and actively working for peace and respect.  about waking up each day on mother earth and the people around us working to keep this a good place.

faced with the word “brave” as our two artists tuesday image, i flounder with where to start.

very early this morning our dear friend linda left her home to go to chicago to have a cochlear implant.  we spent time with her a few evenings ago, as she sorted through hope and fear, what she’s known and the future unknown.  one of her greatest passions in life is dancing.  she dances to music designed for dance, to music she hears in passing, to music in her head.  terrified of losing the ability to hear music post-surgery, she pondered the what-if of not having this done.  but her desire to actually be able to hear MORE (more beloved voices, more broadcasted music, more cds out on the deck or in the dance hall) won out and she is on a new journey.  she is brave. brave. brave.  brave word jpeg copy

my sister just had surgery on her hand to remove a skin cancer.  i am grateful and relieved she is healing from this and will likely not have to have any additional treatment.   d and i talked about this on a walk the other day.  i was weeping openly on the sidewalks in our neighborhood as i spoke about my big brother, who died after a valiant fight with lung cancer, my daddy who was a twelve-year-or-so survivor of lung cancer, my sweet momma who had a double mastectomy for stage four breast cancer at the age of 93.  i cannot help but have some fear.  who among us is exempt from that?  but my big sister was brave and positive and i am determined, as i move forward in life, to be brave as well.  in all arenas.  on all fronts.  d says i am much braver than he is.  i’m not sure why he says this, but his words make me feel stronger.

we meet our challenges singlehandedly, we meet our challenges with a world of support, which is sometimes just one living person, one other being. our bravery is fortified by the love of others, by their words of wisdom, by their ability to shift our perspective, even just a little, by our re-defining.  for we are not in this alone.  we have on our wall in the bedroom a sign that reads, “wherever you are, that’s where i will be.”  our ‘brave’ is fed by our faith, the sisu (perseverance and fortitude) we’ve honed in life, the courageous alter-reaction to the terror of taking a step, our community of people.   susan and i have used the word “scrappy” to describe our lives; in looking at the definition of “brave” i would add intrepid and plucky.  great word – plucky.   Screen Shot 2018-03-05 at 10.41.48 AM

i mean, let’s face it – just being in the world and being who we really are each day is damn brave.

 

BRAVE MERCHANDISE

 

brave leggings copy

brave pillow copy

brave travel mug

Screen Shot 2018-03-05 at 10.59.34 AM

TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

melange button jpeg

check out DAVID’S thoughts on BRAVE

brave. ©️ 2017 kerri sherwood & david robinson


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ks friday #3

jacketymadjpeg copyyears ago i was commissioned to write for and perform at the annual breast cancer symposium in san antonio, texas.  after talking with the producers, i had gathered enough details to know that this symposium is a very big research event in which new research is both shared and celebrated, at which researchers and physicians from all over are honored.  these folks are often the people in the foreground of new advances but the background as far as survivors and lay-people knowing who they are.  it was from that place that i wrote this song.

a couple of years after that, lance armstrong was leading the tour of hope across the country.  despite his more recent fall from grace, there were countless good people working on this tour of hope – bicyclists riding across the country with big rallies in various cities – to raise awareness for cancer and celebrate survivorship.  i performed alongside my cherished friend and breast cancer survivor speaker heidi on an out-of-season gorgeous day in october in downtown chicago at the block 37 on state street park that is now a high-rise.   lance was there and was laser-focused and passionate in his support of cancer survivors. at the time,  i was honored to work with him and i credit that day with meeting my dear friend scordskiii, his photographer, who brought many a laugh and hours of conversation during subsequent years when i really needed both.

this song is personal for me.  the moffitt cancer center in tampa, florida used it as a thank-you in a hospital-wide video to the staff for their work.  for me, their efforts included extending my poppo’s life 12 years beyond diagnosis.  i was proud and honored for this song to be featured.

in the last two decades, heidi and i have performed all over the country at innumerable oncology events together (walks, runs, survivor celebrations, conferences, hospitals, cancer centers, churches, memorials):  she, speaking from a survivor’s viewpoint; me, performing songs i have written to resonate with these events.  each event has been a shining light for us.

as i listened to this song YOU MAKE A DIFFERENCE the other day, i realized, once again, that this is not a song dedicated to one effort, to one fight.  it is a song that is dedicated to any effort in which people gather together in community to fight against darkness, whatever that darkness might be.  it’s for the people in the foreground, on the front line.  and it’s for the people in the background, not looking for any credit whatsoever, just looking for change…good change.  it’s for all the people we don’t know who walk, strike, write, argue, research, march, petition, and present clear options to the light.

this week i would dedicate this song to those young students who have risen up from the pitch-darkness shooting at marjory stoneman douglas high school in florida.  to have a voice.  to bring light.  we are all proud of you.  you make a difference.

YOU MAKE A DIFFERENCE single on iTUNES

KS FRIDAY

www.kerrianddavid.com/the-melange

read DAVID’S thoughts about YOU MAKE A DIFFERENCE

you make a difference ©️ 2003 kerri sherwood

 


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flawed cartoon wednesday #3

SNOWMAN BIG COPY Master copyi just asked david if he would illustrate a children’s book i wrote a long, long (did i mention long?) time ago.  naturally, he said yes, because, uhh, what else is he going to say?  so maybe one of these days you’ll see my snowflake-is-as-raindrop-does story in book form.  in the meanwhile, i’ll tell you the story…hopefully succinctly.

once upon a time (because all great stories start like that) there was a little raindrop.  after it had fallen out of the sky with a gajillion other raindrops it had a choice.  whether to drop-and-roll quickly down the street and be transported through evaporation back up into the sky to reform and do it all over again or – and yes, i am definitely personifying this raindrop – it could choose to roll over to a small plant or tree or blade of grass that needed sustenance.  the raindrop believed (had been taught by others?) that this sacrifice would end its journey…there would be no more going-up-into-the-sky-coming-down-as-a-raindrop-all-over-again if it made this choice.  but the little raindrop rolled over to a little flower anyway, curled up beside its stem and sighed.  what it didn’t realize would happen was this – that it still evaporated.  it still went back up into the sky.  it still reformed.  but this time it was chosen to reform into a beautiful, unique snowflake, an honor bestowed only on those raindrops who had made a difference, who had yielded to a different choice.

so you’re thinking, ok, what does this have to do with snowflakes and snowmen?  well, we just never know how our choices will impact our possibility or how we might be surprised by something different than what we perceive to be our intended possibility.  you have to admit, being a snowflake in a snowman with a scarf and goofy hat that makes people smile and children dance would seem way more satisfying than being a snowflake in a dirty pile of snow in a parking lot.  we learn to go with the flow.  sometimes the unanswered prayers -loss of the UNlimited possibilities- turn out to be the best.

A SNOWFLAKE WITH POSSIBILITIES MERCHANDISE

Flawed Snowman FRAMED PRINT copy Flawed Snowman MUG copy Flawed Snowman IPHONE CASE copy Flawed Snowman RECT PILLOW copy

FLAWED CARTOON WEDNESDAYS

www.kerrianddavid.com/the-melange

read DAVID’S thoughts on this FLAWED CARTOON

a snowflake with possibilities ©️ 2016 david robinson


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two artists tuesday #3

CHILDRENarethebestwithframe jpeg copymay 15, 1990.  the day my life took an unchangeable turn.  the girl was born.  i became a mother.  nothing would ever be the same.  and i am beyond infinitely grateful.  love became more than a noun and a verb – it became a person in my arms.  every fibre of me was in love with this little wonder.  i still am.

nothing can really prepare you for this feeling that is undeniably the most intense thing i have ever felt.  i had my first taste of this when my niece wendy was born…the first of my niece-nephew-niece trio.  i was young then – just eleven (sorry, ben…that really dates you ;)) i fell in love with each of them and, to this day, i’m quite sure they have no idea how much they are loved.  but motherhood was different.  it took my heart to a different plane entirely.  i wondered how it would be -how i could love any more- when i was expecting my second child.  when the boy was born i felt as if i had grown a whole second heart, as bottomless as the first one.

i am so very fortunate to be the mother of these two amazing people-in-this-world.  my daughter ‘the girl’ is beautiful and fiercely independent and talented and smart and funny and -will always be- one of the reasons i breathe.  my son ‘the boy’ is beautiful and fiercely independent and talented and smart and funny and -will always be- one of the reasons i breathe.  i have been moved by their presence in the world.  i have learned in countless ways.  i have struggled with the balance of  wanting-them-near and having-them-far-away.  i know that there is not anything else i have done that is more important.  they are the first thoughts in my mind in the morningtime and the last at night.  i have been changed.  i will never be the same.

this past week, like too many times in recent years, has cut to the core of my heart.  i have felt overwhelming empathy for mothers (and, of course, fathers) who have lost their child to violence.  i am not protected so much that i believe the events of the past week are the only children being lost to violence.  i am no less appalled by the loss of a child to famine or war or domestic brutality.  i just can’t imagine it.  the raw brokenness-of-heart is unfathomable for me.

our children, like anything else that really counts in life, do not come with a manual in which you can look up ‘how’.  we can read and study and research and google, but every situation is different and caring for and raising children is – and, by sheer importance, absolutely SHOULD be – the toughest thing you have ever done.  and, if you have chosen it,  the most momentous. it counts.  it is the shepherding of life.  it is life begetting life.  children are the breath of the (what-kind-of-world-do-we-want?) world that continues. not just for their parents.  but for all of us.  because it doesn’t just take a village; it takes a world to raise a child, to raise children.  they ARE the best thing.

CHILDREN ARE THE BEST THING – MERCHANDISE

TwoArtists ChildrenAre MUG copy                TwoArtists ChildrenAre FRAMED PRINT copy

TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

www.kerrianddavid.com/the-melange

read DAVID’S thoughts about this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

 children are the best thing ©️ 2016 kerri sherwood & david robinson

 

 

 

 


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ks friday #2

jackettpotjjpeg copyone of the first things i told david when we spoke was that “i don’t do nutshells.”  he had asked me a question and framed it with, “in a nutshell….?”  i laughed.  it is not in my dna to do nutshells.  none of my family is good at nutshells.  my big brother always told a long long story, filled with minute details.  he was brilliant and it was always truly fascinating to listen to him.  my poppo was the same way, when you got him started.  my sweet momma, well, she was a practiced tangent-story-queen.  and my sister?  suffice it to say she is much like me in story-telling.  😉

i love a good story.  i WANT to hear the details.  i WANT to see ALL the pictures, not just a few.  i WANT to know what-happened-next.  it’s the same way i will tell a story, winding all the peripheral stuff right into the very crux of the point, as if it all mattered and carried the same weight, which, of course, isn’t always true.  there have been people in my life who have said, “get to the point!”  (which i have to say is not a fun thing to be told; it deflates the storyballoon inside one’s heart and makes you lose track of what it was you were trying to say in the first place.)

i blame growing up on long island as well as dna.  people tawwwwwk there.  they will go on and on.  and interrupt each other.  and go on and on.  it’s great fun following a conversation that way – you are never bored. perhaps a little blurry on the story-point-edges, but never bored.

it’s a long story is the first piece on the album this part of the journey.  it starts off with a lift and has a cello line i wish i had the ability to perform.  the amazingly “fine” ken produced an album for me that has withstood time.  originally recorded in 1998 on a CFIIIS, this is still my best-selling original instrumental album.  we were in the studio for long hours, sometimes as long as 23 hours at a time.  but we were moved by our studio musicians and their performances on each track and it was easy to summon the energy for this emotional album.

i felt that it’s a long story could be an apt first instrumental piece on ks friday in the melange.  with my first album released in 1995 it’s already been a long story.  as i continue to define and re-define, i’m hoping that same long story continues.  thank you for listening and listening and listening…no nutshells here.

IT’S A LONG STORY from the album THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY (track 1) iTunes

KS FRIDAY

www.kerrisherwood.com – buy the album

www.kerrianddavid.com/the-melange

check out DAVID’S thoughts on IT’S A LONG STORY

IT’S A LONG STORY from THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY ©️ 2000 kerri sherwood


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two artists tuesday #2

card with frame be kind jpegmy sweet momma had a favorite quote.  it reads, “i shall pass through this world but once.  any good, therefore, that i can do or any kindness that i can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now.  let me not defer or neglect it for i shall not pass this way again.”  (this is generally credited to stephen grellet.)  the thing about favorite quotes and humanness is that sometimes we tout them, but fail to live by them.  momma really truly lived by this one.  she chose kindness, even over her own comfort, even over how she might humanly default in a given moment.  a little card with this quote hangs on a piece of tin in our kitchen.  being thready and all that means i love to gather things around me that remind of, well, things and people and places and ideals and moments.  mmm…you know what i mean.

ptom recently spoke about what it means to be in community…what building a sense of community boils down to.  he answered his own question, “radical kindness.”  can you imagine a world – everywhere – that was radically kind?  KIND.  sheesh.  what on earth would happen?  if kindness was everyone’s first response.  if everyone led with kindness.  if kindness superceded competition and agenda and reactionary anger and brazen cruelty.

when i drew this image i have to say i had never before noticed that the word “kin” is IN the word “kind”.  somehow it hadn’t occurred to me.  but after i drew all the stick people in a field of hopeful yellow scribbles (representing sun and warmth and generous days) i saw the word KIN.

be kind.  be kin.  yes.  we-are-all-in-this-together.  in the whole wide world.  should be simple, eh?  this week’s melange two artist tuesday.

BE KIN/BE KIND MERCHANDISE

mug BeKind

TWO ARTIST TUESDAY

www.kerrianddavid.com/the-melange

check out DAVID’S thoughts on this TWO ARTIST TUESDAY

framed printBeKind

be kind tote bag

be kind. ©️ 2016  kerri sherwood & david robinson


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chicken marsala monday #2

juststart jpeg copymy sister and i were toodling around milwaukee on one of her visits here, years ago now.  we went to this great little coffeehouse on the lake and there was a stand of cards.  one read “begin anywhere” a quote from john cage.  procrastinators/a.d.d. twins, it jolted both of us and we laughed.  it launched a really honest and vulnerable conversation between us over our coffee mugs.  we bought two of the cards.  hers sits inside a glass frame on her counter in her kitchen.  mine is inside an old window frame on the wall in the bedroom.

starting is the hardest thing.  so often we don’t know how.  and we dread the not-knowing, fearing that we will fail or fall short or never “finish”.  finish what?  we are never “done,” i believe.  we just keep moving.  toward who knows what sometimes, but we keep moving.  life is fluid and fluxes and we try to be flexible.  and sometimes, after we force ourselves to JUST START, we find that the task wasn’t as difficult or involved as we thought, or we were better at “it” than we thought, or there really weren’t the demons we imagined.

i love this CHICKEN MARSALA.  in honor of my beautiful daughter-of-the-snowy-mountains, in honor of all the athletes competing in the olympics who started their sports long ago, in honor of artists of every medium everywhere standing in front of a notebook, a piano, an easel, a barre, a microphone, in honor of THE ROADTRIP – a second start for david and me (starting AGAIN is sometimes a beautiful thing) we offer this CHICKEN NUGGET in the studio melange this week.

you’re at the gate.  poised.  fearful.  anticipatory.  excited.  your imagination is going wild.

just start.

chicken just start mugSOMETIMES THE BEST THING TO DO IS START merchandise

chicken marsala monday

kerrianddavid.com/the-melange

check out DAVID’s thoughts on this CHICKEN NUGGET

chicken just start framed print

 

sometimes the best thing to do is start

©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood


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#MeToo

Screen Shot 2017-12-27 at 5.10.57 PM i believe in inherent goodness.  the inherent goodness of each and every person.  born in beauty, walking in beauty.  i blame my sweet momma.  she looked this way at every single person who crossed her path.
          but then, there’s the rest.  predisposed psychological genetics.  environment.  social prejudices.  bigotry.  elitism.  lack of empathy.  the inability to walk in another’s shoes.  the lack of wanting to try to walk in another’s shoes.  some kind of warped misinformed yet embraced caste system.  jealousy.  bitterness.  the web of ‘ugly’ has many faces.  and people twist.  and that inherent goodness seems to go underground.  we wonder if there is, indeed, any goodness left.  we are confronted with this question over and over again it seems, especially these days.
          we had a discussion about goodness recently.  it became heated.  the dog left the room and retreated to the bathroom.  we were intense.  too intense.  arguing for the same point, we came from two different directions, two different backgrounds.  but we were heading, actually, in the same direction.
          each of us carries our gift of inherent goodness.  we choose each and every day whether we access it or not. my momma’s adherence to the adage, “i shall pass through this world but once.  any good, therefore, that i can do or any kindness that i can show to any fellow creature, let me do it now.  let me not defer or neglect it for i shall not pass this way again.” often rings in my ears.  we all make decisions each day; some steeped in good, some not so much.
          as we approached the holidays and the end of the year, we were deeply diving into cleaning out.  seems right at the end of the year.  old boxes of random items that had accumulated in the years lived in this home, vestiges of life before, of life growing up, of goodnesses shown and received.  we had so much fun as we cleaned; i’d show d pictures or mementos from places or people or the children, every one of them an opportunity for a story.  some carried aha moments, some elicited sighs of where-does-the-time-go, some made me laugh or teary, some stopped me in my tracks.
          i came across things from way-earlier-life, the time i had spent growing up on long island.  my seagull collection, plastic seagulls suspended on wires attached to rocks or shells or pieces of cork, a 70s thing for sure.  my horse collection, which was, in my mind, massive, but when i unpacked it was more like 15 horse statues and ribbons from showing in horse shows, drawings i had painstakingly drawn, books i pored over and over and studied at a much younger age.  a doll collection with hand sewn or hand crocheted outfits made lovingly by my grandmother ‘mama dear’s’ hands.  books and notebooks and old calendars.  trinkets and rocks and feathers.  cards and letters i saved for decades.  artwork by the girl and the boy.  little notes they wrote to me.  an old electric typewriter and a case of 45rpm records we played the night we found them.
          and then there are the reminders from a time i don’t talk about so much.  a time when i became a #MeToo.  it takes my breath away to think of that 19 year old girl.  me – an idealistic, innocent, youngest-by-far child who looked at the world through poetic eyes and trusting-colored glasses.  my heart breaks now for this young woman who found her way through a terrifying -and life-changing- time pretty much alone, seeking little help for an act that drove to her core and was more than difficult to voice in a late 1970s judicial system.  because, you know, not everyone is good.  not everyone holds their inherent goodness ahead of their selfish, controlling, violent behaviors.  back then, counseling, and even prosecuting, was rare.  i didn’t experience either one.  the help of counseling nor the satisfaction of prosecuting this person who took away my belief and trust in goodness.  for a time, fear coursed through me.  my view of others became jaded and distrusting.  i sought refuge in varying ways, but never really explained why to myself or others.  i didn’t understand what caused this man to behave as he had, nor did i understand that it wasn’t mine to understand.  what i do know, is that i grew.
          and now, as our world opens their listening hearts to women and girls everywhere, i am grateful.  grateful for their collective voices and the deserved help extended to them. grateful that even in giving individual voice, they are moving through the processing of it, the reason for being a #MeToo becoming smaller than #MeToo survival.
          i was once told wise words from a friend when i was grieving my momma’s death.  joan said, “the only way to get to the other side is through it.”
          as i sort through all the pieces of life i have carried in boxes, in bins, in photographs, in my heart and soul, through all these years, i realize again that these words are so true.  in so many situations, so many life arenas. the only way to get to the other side is through it.  and then, you can find inherent goodness again.

 


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after the first half of the concert.

bcatForgetTheFirstHalfwe went to a concert a week ago or so. it was a group of us and we were all excited about going. the band we were going to see is creative, talented, sincere and full of energy. what’s not to like about that?!

we caravanned in three cars. well, we dan-a-vanned, actually, with dan leading the way. he is a GPS guru and, if you can keep up with him on the highway, a great person to follow going somewhere.

we got there, full of anticipation and excitement. sat in seats one row from the very top, able to look out at the whole audience. many of us have gone to concerts together before; we try to do fun stuff especially as the winter sets in.  we laugh a lot and that is a very good thing.

the concert started with an infomercial….on video and a live push as well. i thought perhaps that was it….one infomercial is plenty when you have purchased tickets to an event that is not a fundraiser. but that wasn’t the case. with the exception of two warm-up artists who played maybe 3 songs each, the whole first half of the concert was full of infomercial preaching and over-done talk-talk.

by the time we got to intermission, it was easy to be annoyed. the first half of the concert was over. we hadn’t seen the band we had come to see yet and now we had sat through what seemed to be agenda….i have yet to figure out why this was so. what symbiotic relationship is there between these infomercials and the band we were there to see? do these organizations host the whole concert tour? do they underwrite the concerts in venues of their choosing?  do they play the band’s music? no matter how dedicated the band is to these efforts, was it appropriate to take up most of the first half of this concert with this rhetoric? i was sitting in my concert-seat trying to figure out this stuff. is that where the band would want me to start?

so now, here we are, at the second half. and i have to say, i am not “feelin’ the love.” it took me a good portion of the second half to get back to open-hearted listening of this concert, to actually hear the music and embrace it.

because: the band concert i had come to see was colored by the first half of the concert.

and then – there’s life.

wow. i can’t think of a better metaphor than this concert.

WE are colored by the first half, the first part, the beginning and middle of life as we step into the Next of life. “of course we are,” you say aloud to me. cognitively we totally get it. we shouldn’t bring into Next what colored us from Before. we have to draw the line in the sand. lessons – yes. anger, frustrations, disappointments, prejudices – no. each Next is a fresh start.  for that matter, yes, each new day is a fresh start.

d and i have been doing a meditation that was offered free with oprah and deepak. it has been about awareness and making every moment matter. now, i am all about moments (that whole thready thing and all.)  but awareness is a much bigger responsibility than we realize.  it’s so much easier to react than to stop for a few seconds (or however long it takes) and be aware. sometimes i find i should Stop longer than i stop.  awareness can be slowww in arriving, particularly if i stubbornly hold onto all the negative stuff.  we sometimes cling to that stuff as if it were a lifevest.

now…i am thinking:  in those moments, when i can feel myself reacting (strongly or negatively or angrily or with preformed disposition) to something, i realize (metaphorically) that i am at the (in-real-life) concert and i am looking at the second half through first-half-eyes. it is becoming an amazing tool for me to stop and think – what about the first half of the concert is getting under my skin for this Next?  am i aware that the second half can be even just moments after the first half?  it’s not always years or decades that separates Before from Next.  it can be minutes.   it’s shocking how blind we can be to what we carry forward, one minute to the Next.

the Next is full of good and hope and moments and not-what’s-lost-but-what-is-still-there-ness (thank you, ptom). stepping over the limen, the threshold, is necessary.  leaving behind the first half of the concert, the part that colors us and clouds our clear-eyed-hopeful-stepping-into the second half, is absolute.

holding on, letting go

itunes: kerri sherwood