reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


Leave a comment

sisu. [merely a thought monday]

sisu box

sisu.  perseverance.  fortitude.  stamina.  courage.  determination.  my grandmother mama dear used this finnish term all the time and passed it down to my sweet momma beaky who passed it down to me.  a philosophy of life, a mantra, “you gotta have sisu!” mama dear would say.  if up against the odds, if forging upstream, my sweet momma would say, “you gotta have sisu!”  and so it was without a second thought when it was time to name my own company, the independent recording label that has been sisu music productions for the last 23 years.  i can’t think of a better name for all the challenges that have risen – and continue to rise – as an independent artist.

any moment of fear, of uncertainty, brings me to draw on that sisu…digging in my heels and standing firmly in it.  it’s kind of a blind faith and has everything to do with that.  in the face of adversity, of the scales tilted not-in-your-favor, you just keep on.  in the face of fear…everyone has their thing…the thing that makes them afraid…the thing that makes them white-knuckled…you just keep on.   sisu.

i was flying back from telluride to denver a couple days ago – in a smaller plane.  there was a big strapping guy all dressed in camouflage who got on the plane before me.  he told the flight attendant he had been out in the middle of nowhere hunting (successfully) elk and mule deer.  he was a rough and tumble kind of guy and ended up seated just across the aisle from me.  when the plane hit turbulence, particularly over the front range, his face turned red and he looked over at me with a deer-in-the-headlights look and said, “i hate this part!!”  i started talking to him then, trying to ease his obvious fear, talking about the wind currents and the mountains…how i could see the airport…we are almost there…just a teeny bit further…wheels are going to touch down any minute….  he was gripping the lock on the little tray table and finally relaxed his grip and smiled.  everyone has their thing.

we can loan others the sisu we carry with us.  we can bank on the sisu we carry with us.  i often credit being-from-new-york for times i have just forged-ahead-anyway, but my sisu roots go way further back than that.

sisu.  i stood back from the edge of a deep deep canyon the other day, my beautiful daughter on another boulder a few hundred yards away.  i looked at the sky, the sunset playing over red rock.  thought about that very moment in time, this moment i was sharing with the part of my heart known as kirsten…this moment that wouldn’t be repeated.  and i heard the voice in my head, “you gotta have sisu.”  i stepped to the very edge of the canyon, stretched out my arms and laughed aloud.

moab edges with website

read DAVID’S thoughts on SISU

Screen Shot 2018-08-07 at 12.27.50 PM


1 Comment

silent days. [k.s. friday]

SILENT DAYS song box.jpg

“4. silent days (4:33) the sad side of silence, the incredible loneliness of not connecting, the urgency of it all.”

i wrote these words for the jacket of this album in 1996.  they are no less valid today.  we are in an inexorable time of too-much-silence-too-much-noise.  we stand perilously close to saying too much.  we stand precariously near the abyss of not saying enough.  a balancing act, it’s a lonely place, a place of silence.  in our home, in our families, in our friendships, in our communities, in our world, silent days are devouring and saving relationships.  both.

this is a time that has beckoned the meek to become strong, the quiet to speak the truth, the lonely to be heartened by having a voice, the invisible to become visible.  we deliberate over our words, we speak, we boisterously challenge, we thoughtfully listen.  we consider the consequences of not connecting.  we steer away from noise just for the sake of noise.

and yes…there is urgency.  for “there comes a time when silence is betrayal.” (martin luther king, jr.)  and there is this line – a fine line indeed – but one which all who are human may straddle:  “wise men speak because they have something to say; fools because they have to say something.” (plato)

to be quiet is one thing.  unassuming.  proactive in soft tones.  to be silent is another.

speak your mind even though your voice shakes. (eleanor roosevelt)

 

download SILENT DAYS track 4 BLUEPRINT FOR MY SOUL on iTUNES or CDBaby

read DAVID’S thoughts on this K.S. FRIDAY

k&dbw backs website box_

SILENT DAYS from BLUEPRINT FOR MY SOUL ©️ 1996 kerri sherwood

 

 

 

 

 

 


Leave a comment

peace marbles. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

peace marbles copy.jpg

we were in cedarburg and on our way out the door of one of our favorite shops there – leap of faith.  i go way back with this shop; during the years that small boutiques sold cds they carried mine and i would, from time to time, play a live performance, hand in hand raising awareness about my music.  the silver peace ring i wear at all times is from this shop.  i have meandered many a time through this place, breathing a little easier as i peruse and read their cards, signs, gifts, positive messages all, open to all.

as we walked out, i spotted this small bowl of blue marbles and the words “take one”.  a symbol for our planet.  a prayer for peace.  i didn’t need another invitation.  the song lyrics accompanying this blue marble hummed in my head all the way home, even after wendy and i loudly sang  “i believe the children are our future…” while striding down the sidewalk after hearing it in another shop.

“let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me.” if we each made that our intention how powerful…Screen Shot 2018-11-03 at 12.35.18 PM

our blue marble, our good earth, tiny in the vastness, might thrive.  we might thrive.  if not for us, then for the children.  our children.  they are our future.

 

 

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

ely website box


Leave a comment

figure it out. [k.s. friday]

figure it out songbox.jpg

in all the chicken-scratch-notes i have about this piece of music, i have written in the presence of a heartbeat.  the pulse that spans the entire 6 minutes 14 seconds, this heartbeat starts the piece. it is throughout the piece.  it ends the piece.  it is no accident that this composition seems interminable, ever returning to the theme; figuring “it” out often seems that way, a curse of perseverating analysis paralysis, depending on what “it” is.

i just erased what i had next written about this.  i couldn’t help but talk about my repeated use of a rising leading tone gesture in the theme, f# to g, f# to g, off the beaten major root path, but instead the path of starting on my ever-loved ninth in the e minor key, a key that resonates so often with people.  then i thought, “blahblahblah!!” geeeesh.  that’s way too much information.  so i erased it.  (yes…there were even more details before i erased it!)

i composed this at a time that was laden with things to sort, to figure out, to resolve.  it is one of the longest pieces i have recorded.  there are moments you can hear the almost-there-ness of it, but, like life, it reverts back to the initial themes, the initial questions.  and then, punctuating it, from time to time, a firm melodic gesture (f#-g-f#-e) where you can hear the lyrics in your head, “figure it out.”  much easier said than done, eh?  but our hearts keep beating.

purchase the album RIGHT NOW or download FIGURE IT OUT on iTUNES or CDBaby

shadow des plaines river trailwebsite box copy

Screen Shot 2018-08-07 at 12.27.50 PM

FIGURE IT OUT from RIGHT NOW ©️ 2010 kerri sherwood

 

 


Leave a comment

they wait. [d.r. thursday]

WeWait Morsel

i can feel this painting.  i recognize it.  i have anxiously waited, looking out the window, babycat in lap, dogdog by my feet.  leaning forward, i have peered outside…waiting for someone to arrive, waiting for the mail, waiting for the sun to come up, waiting for my mind to rest.

we are in a time…you can feel the nerve endings jittering.  it is not a time of rest, nor is it a time of peace and unity.  we lean forward, looking out the window at moments passing, hoping to catch a glimpse of tomorrow and see a calmer day, a day where we might find a spirit of cohesion, a respite from the storm of divisiveness.

THEY WAIT…a beautifully poignant painting honoring the ever-faithful companions by our side, quietly and patiently waiting.  with no idea of why, with no questions asked, they steadfastly stay with us.

WeWait

THEY WAIT mixed media 24″x18″

click here or on painting above to view THEY WAIT

read DAVID’S thoughts on this D.R. THURSDAY

k&dbw backs website box_

Screen Shot 2018-08-07 at 12.27.50 PM

 


Leave a comment

you can’t judge a book… [not-so-flawed wednesday]

HalloweenTree

this tree.  gnarly and twisted and wrinkly. it looks a little halloween-esque at dusk and could be downright scary in the dark of night.  it’s seen so much life, so many decades and its lifeblood travels throughout the healthy tree, bringing and sharing nutrients.  home to insects and small creatures, it provides shade for the vegetation beneath it.  it’s not just an old tree and it’s not the picture of what we think of when we think of a beautiful tree.  but it is.  beautiful.  you just can’t judge a book by its cover.  my sweet momma always said that.

momma would look in the mirror and talk about the wrinkles on her face and how “old” she looked.  in her wheelchair she could appear to be meek, wrestling with difficulties and just an old woman.  but that was so not so.  she had seen much life.  she was home to my dad, me and my sister and brother, our families, extended members as it fanned out the branches of our family tree, her friends.  she provided warm words and kindnesses to all around her, strangers among them.  she was beautiful.  every last gorgeous wrinkle.  you just can’t judge a book by its cover.

we had a black lab years ago, one of a few in our family history, when The Girl and The Boy were little. his name was hughie and he had at least 47 allergies.  he was treated for many of these and we tried to address the auto-immune disease he had as well, but he lost most of the hair on his body.  he looked gnarly and rough and wrinkled.  as a lab with little hair, he looked scary to those who did not know him.  he struggled and, even in his discomfort, was gentle and sweet, a learning for The Girl and The Boy, who were his and, despite his outward appearance, knew what was inside.  he was not the picture of what we think of when we think of a beautiful dog.  but he was.  beautiful.  you just can’t judge a book by its cover.

inside.  beautiful.  how hard is it to always remember that?  you just can’t judge a book by its cover.

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

halloween box

Screen Shot 2018-08-07 at 12.27.50 PM

 


Leave a comment

simple question? [two artists tuesday]

these are the things we notice.  little and big.  the things we love about living two-artists-together. little and big.  the things we ponder.  little and big.

this one? an existential question indeed.  but that sweet caterpillar….

for some actual thoughts on this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY, you might want to click here and read DAVID’S blog

alice's restaurant, california websitebox copy

Screen Shot 2018-08-07 at 12.27.50 PM


Leave a comment

the twain. [merely a thought monday]

lifebelowzeroquotesueaikens

i shudder when i hear the words “…and never the twain shall meet…”(rudyard kipling)  in my head when i read this.  but sue aikens’ words (on life below zero, she is a strong alaska-proof woman living in the arctic) were not a viewpoint on the polarization of our country.  they were merely the way she was describing the ropes she sets outside her buildings so that in the middle of fierce snowstorms she will be able to find her way, despite not being able to see in the swirling snow.

in life – intellectual, emotional, political life – however, there is a middle ground.  but it has become difficult in our current climate to sort to the middle, to not stand firmly on one side or the other of the great divide, a place that grows larger by the day, with an ever-brewing moat of hatred and vitriol, terrifyingly divisive to families, relationships, communities. there is danger on the far sides, danger in stubbornly and feverishly clinging to the left or the right, without considering ramifications, without any compassion, with an unbending dedication to absolutism, with no room or moment for thoughtful consideration, with breakneck righteous reactivity.

in sue aikens’ world, it will save her life to unconditionally sort left or sort right.  in ours, it may destroy us.

read DAVID’S thoughts on this MERELY A THOUGHT MONDAY

hands across tree WEBSITE BOX

Screen Shot 2018-08-07 at 12.27.50 PM


Leave a comment

hear you whisper. [k.s. friday]

hear you whisper song box

missing comes in many shapes and sizes.  colors too.  i’m now at that age that i hear this song in the context of too many people i know who have lost loved ones.  whether their beloved has moved on to a different dimension or a different life, it leaves behind someone grieving.  “you’re so here though you’re not here.” 

i occasionally browse through facebook and i am struck by the number of acquaintances or friends or family members who are remembering a loved one, this group of people unknown maybe to each other but bonded invisibly by a mutual intense emotion.  my heart responds to their pain, their determination to keep going, their day-by-day stepping back into the world.  it’s indeed a “crazy maze” that they are navigating, that i have navigated as well, that we each navigate at some point in time.

although moving on to a different life presents other extraordinary challenges to live through, losing someone to dying often leaves so many unspoken words, so much un-lived living-together.  “i hear you whisper, hear you cry, hear you call my name at night, over many miles and many distant skies.  i hear you whisper, hear you cry, hear you call my name at night, and i believe it’s not goodbye.”  like many of you, i, too, have listened intently to the universe, to the night, waiting to hear, believing that just-on-the-other-side is a whisper, on the wind, wafting its way to me.

purchase the CD AS SURE AS THE SUN or download HEAR YOU WHISPER on iTUNES or CDBaby

read DAVID’S thoughts about this K.S. FRIDAY

john denver sanctuary in aspen WEBSITE box

Screen Shot 2018-08-07 at 12.27.50 PM

if you'd like to see kerri sherwood.. copy

HEAR YOU WHISPER from AS SURE AS THE SUN ©️ 2002 kerri sherwood


Leave a comment

tango with me. [d.r. thursday]

TangoMorsel copy

my front row seat on the dance floor of david’s studio affords me this unique opportunity to watch him waltz with his canvas, shift his weight from one leg to the other, lead the painting or let it lead him (much as i unintentionally do when we dance.)  the images come to life.  i can feel the pull in her neck, backward-bent in the beautiful flow of the tango, their faces raised to the sun in this morsel of TANGO WITH ME.  i can feel their hands embracing, arms outstretched, reaching for their forward steps.  the painting around them is magical and surreal, fantasy almost, just as a couple dancing is lost in the dreamy quality of their moving together.

ahhh.  it is a privileged front seat i have.  each time…watching another birth.

TangoWithMe-Final copy

TANGO WITH ME  mixed media 39″x52″

click here or on painting above to view TANGO WITH ME

read DAVID’S thoughts on this D.R. THURSDAY

slow dance party cropped website box

Screen Shot 2018-08-07 at 12.27.50 PM

 TANGO WITH ME ©️ 2018 david robinson, kerri sherwood