reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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

“i once believed that silence was strength.” (anonymous)

and then i didn’t.

because “silence isn’t strength. it’s complicity.” (barbra streisand)

and so i – in my noisy – will stand firm and tall.

and i will wonder how others have not yet gotten there – to noisy. how others have not yet realized inside themselves that their silence – in these very days – is complicity. how others have not spoken up, spoken for, spoken against. how others have not been openly horrified at what this country’s administration is allowing, how this country’s administration is grifting, what this country’s administration is hiding, what this country’s administration is intending.

and i will wonder how others protect the wrongdoers. how others cavalierly wield the power differential around, like a discus before its release, spinning, spinning. how others thwart the rights of people they consider beneath them, lesser, somehow, than them. how others avoid accountability, culpability, the simple act of being responsible. how others stay quiet – seemingly a mute cheering squad for these, both voiceless and gleeful.

and i will wonder how it is that sexual assault survivors are expected to internalize their abuse, desperately seeking anything to normalize that which is not normal. how it is that sexual assault survivors are not lifted from their pain with the steady voices of everyone around them, instead of shushed or doubted or ignored. how it is that this question – “why we doubt accusers and protect abusers” – has any turf on which to stand.

but these are not my wonders to solve. these are mine to get noisy about. for it is my own heart i must answer to.

because, for me, silence is not strength. it is capitulating to wrong, quietly suggesting that i agree.

and i don’t.

“it happened. it was wrong. it matters.” (tarana burke)

it’s happening. it is wrong. it matters.

all of it.

*****

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tacet season. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

in the initial moments when we clear our barnwood potting stand – pull all the plants for composting, stack the clay pots and garden tools to be put away, brush off the stand, close the wrought iron gate, and then step back – i feel a sadness for the loss of our tiny garden. this year yielded a wild crop of herbs and tomatoes, jalapeños and lavender. we thoroughly enjoyed our sweet potato vines and our miniature licorice plant, the sweet dianthus, our peonies. this summer’s heat and humidity was a boon to our backyard. so it is somewhat hard to see it ending.

but the tacet of our garden – after such an amazing fully-bloomed tutti – is just as important in its performance. the quiet of this time will serve to gather its energy, to bring impact to subsequent growth, to give rest to roots bound by pots.

this winter we will propagate some of our summer plants. it is a new venture, introduced to us by the gift of our dear friend – a small indoor greenhouse. we will be learning what these tiny plants need, trying to help them root, keep them alive, bring them back – out of silence – to a spring in which we have a bit of a headstart.

the clearing of our house is kind of like that, too, as we move from room to room, closet to closet, drawer to drawer, bin to bin. we are still in phase one of all this, but each bit of giveaway, of throwaway, of repurposing gives air to some more space and in that space i can hear the vibrations of possibility gathering.

there are two new fuzzy white pillows in my studio on a metal strapped swivel patio chair we brought up from the basement. it feels like sitting in that chair – sinking in – could lend itself to the expression of the tacet i’ve been in, the long time of fallow. i don’t know what that means. it could just mean gaining clarity. it could mean setting it all aside. it could mean a few new notes that lead to a few new songs. the times d mentions the word “when” i counter with the word “if” because i really don’t know. there’s been a lot of pain and the wounds haven’t yet healed over. the tacet and my reticence continue.

but the potting stand reminds me: even after a period of silence, a period of fallow and nothing really happening, there is actually much in play. energy is stoking up. the time of rest is giving import to the time of sprouting. and, though this summer’s heat and humidity were incredibly generative – much like the middle years of my artist life – so will be next summer’s heat and humidity, even if the conditions are different, even if the heat and humidity are less intense. it is still a growth season.

just like now. the season has not ended with the pulling of plants from pots. negative space defines positive space, silence creates tension, the narrative of our plants continues.

just like mine. i am still in a season of growth.

*****

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my spinning head. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

i remember 9/11 as i would imagine you do as well. everyone – every one – was talking about what had happened, what was happening to our beloved country. there wasn’t anyone who wouldn’t stop and talk about it with you – from strangers in the elevator you were sharing to associates in department stores to friends and colleagues to family and relatives.

i imagine it was the same on pearl harbor day, all during the vietnam war, during the nixon impeachment, when martin luther king, jr was assassinated, during hurricane katrina, hurricane sandy, hurricane maria, every school shooting, fires that couldn’t be controlled in the west, tornados in the south and the midwest, when jfk was assassinated, during the covid pandemic. there are too many disasters to even begin to list. i cannot imagine that there have been days when americans did not talk about what was happening. because conversation is important. and – most of the time – the only way through any trauma is to share how you are feeling with others.

except now.

suddenly, there is a silent crowd. a faction – the they -“don’t-talk-about-it” faction. this democratic country is disintegrating into authoritarianism – literally with the potential of turning into one of those “shithole countries” this base administration has grossly referred to – and they – suddenly – don’t wanna talk about it.

this only leads me to believe one thing.

which is –

drumroll, please –

that they wanted all these terrible, horrible, unconscionable things to happen.

and that makes my head spin.

*****

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as clear as ice. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

merely glancing at this photo of ice-encased grasses makes it clear that it is cold out. very cold.

because some things are obvious. a no-brainer, as it’s said. you can see right through.

silence is like that.

remaining completely silent – not uttering a word of raging disdain or abject horror – in the middle of this country’s hellish descent in this time of destruction – makes your position – of complicity – obvious. a no-brainer.

this is a time demanding connection. this is a time when we need each other. we need to band together and buoy each other. we need mutual support in a liminal frozen space of atrocity as we all witness the stripping of our democracy. we need to talk. we need to ask questions. we need to sort. we need to speak up.

i haven’t been able to decide if i am more sickened by what’s happening in this country or by family, friends and acquaintances who – clear as ice – think it’s perfectly ok. like too many others, i wonder, “who the hell are you, anyway???”

you may think your stance is not transparently clear – while you publicly – and callously – try to give the impression of going about normal life normally – or while you pretend it isn’t happening – even privately – but your silence about these atrocities in very real life speaks volumes.

having been thrown under the bus before by people i have trusted – including perhaps you – i warily wonder how far you would go to support all this.

and so we reach to others, we connect, we stand with them, we protect each other as best we can.

because just as clear as ice your silent complicity are their good intentions. and the choice is obvious. a no-brainer, as it’s said.

*****

CONNECTED © 1995 kerri sherwood

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prickly. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

we move forward in this new year – attending to the processes of democracy and this nation’s constitution. we pass by the sixth of january.

“four years ago, a few thousand insurrectionists attempted to disregard the laws of this nation for a single career criminal. and what they could not accomplish then in the capitol rotunda, 77 million americans now have at the voting booth: the voices of our forebears have been rendered silent, the protections of our constitution have been destroyed, and a convicted felon, adjudicated rapist, and wannabe dictator has been given the keys to the kingdom.” (john pavlovitz)

if that is not prickly, i don’t know what is.

once upon a time, back in the day, there was a sexual predator. he was charming and indubitably well-versed at preying on young women. he started by grooming – paying undue attention to these young women – even girls – who were far younger than he, gifting them, serenading them with song and words that – clearly – meant nothing. because he was well-practiced, it did not take him long to go from zero to sexual abuse – his deflowering count blossoming. and then – post-conquest – he would quickly discard that conquest – another young woman who was forever-devastatingly-changed – and move on to the next. he was never punished for any of his crimes nor was he ever held accountable. the misogynistic men who knew and who should have handled the crimes of this crony-of-theirs stayed silent, a peer group of complicity, continuing to enable him. he still walks about freely here in these united states. for decades.

prickly, eh?

and here we are – decades later – nearly half a century since the time of this one devastating story among millions of such stories – and we have not moved any further along. as a matter of fact, we have now elected a misogynistic sexual abuser – with his own bevy of complicit lawless cronies – to the highest office of the land.

it’s just like the story from back in the day. interesting how little has changed. only – now – 77 million people are part of the story – who not only stayed silent but became a part of the enabling – who stamped their wholehearted approval and voted him in – a man liable for sexual abuse.

if you don’t feel prickly about that, i don’t know what’s wrong with you. because your embrace of violence – your ignorance, pushing this newsy news aside – your lack of morality – your perpetuating of this travesty – your complicity – has placed every single woman in this country in peril.

in the way that conditional if-then statements work, that would all condense to: if you voted for him then you are culpable.

pretty prickly.

“we don’t coddle our kids when they spew nonsense or think the truth is irrelevant. we correct them.” (rex huppke)

or – as history and the present show – we let them walk free and even make them president.

“the decision to put someone like [him] back in the most powerful position in america should be embarrassing. it wasn’t.” (rex huppke)

prickly as all hell.

*****

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the precipice and the fallout. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

i have no doubt we’ll all fall over it at some point – the precipice.

there will be some moment of grief, some slight, some jarring change, some out-and-out grotesque manifestation of this-thing-that-is-coming that will be the precipice for each of us.

i have already felt it. i fell over it on new year’s day. i realized that this thing that is coming now – in 2025 – this new administration’s cruelty and revenge, the emphasized attitudes disenfranchising people, the new way of being in this country, the gloating extremist, isolationist stance this country will take in this world – is already taking a toll. the precipice is real.

for the life of me i cannot understand wanting such things. i cannot understand turning my back on the rights and needs and experiences of my own family or friends. i cannot understand being a cheerleader for what’s coming. and, on new year’s day, it pushed me over the precipice and i spent the day grieving. for all the light i have tried to seek, for all the light i have tried to be, this thing-that-is-coming faster-than-fast pushed me under and into darkness.

it is real.

there will be fallout. fallout for people who know it’s coming, for people who bandwagoned and didn’t bother researching, for people who have family and friends against whom they voted. and that’s the part that made my heart hurtle over the cliff.

even though i knew it – and have known it for a couple months now – the fallout – part of which, of course, is silence – is painful beyond imagining.

knowing is hard.

i imagine i am not alone…one day at a time it all becomes more and more real…and so one day at a time there are others who are over-the-precipice-ing. it’s not going away and, as we are gleaning, it will only get worse and worse. and people voted for all of it. and i wonder – again and again – if it ever occurred to them to think about their own families or friends or community that might be drastically impacted by this new reality – the one they were choosing.

and so the fallout will gain momentum. not just the stuff that the new administration is going to set in place – the stuff that will marginalize more and more people, that will push people down – those already disenfranchised, those about-to-be disenfranchised. the fallout will lift up others – those with self-aggrandizing agenda, those with monster motives, those who perpetuate hatred, those who are clearly soul-less. and the fallout – well – it will snap the binding of relationships at their core, it will silence conversation, it will destroy friendships, it will undermine families.

because it’s real.

now – each time we are hurtled over the precipice – for it is likely that will be more than once – it will be our job to climb back up, to seek safe shelter and to heal from the pummeling of the precipice-fall. even a little bit. to keep going. to get to – what we hope will be – the other side of all this. to survive.

*****

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in the thick. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

“you are not only responsible for what you say, but also for what you do not say.” (martin luther)

january 8. we are a week into the new year. we are in the thick – in the territory of resolutions – things we will do, things we won’t do, things we wish to change.

in the way of good conversation at dinner the other night, 20 showed us a photograph of martin luther with this quote. we all shook our heads in agreement. moral silence, not speaking truth to power, not speaking against injustice or wrongdoing or marginalization – a key figure of the protestant movement (and even more specifically – what became the lutheran church) had a few things to say about that. we spent a bit of time swimming in this.

because we are in the thick.

we just passed by the third anniversary of the insurrection of our country’s capitol. white christian nationalism has upped the ante on the lack of moral responsibility – with silence, divisive words, blunt negation of the events of this day. where are the martin luthers of the day? seems a bit antithetical…with a big dollop of hypocrisy to boot.

but we need not be in the nation’s capitol to witness irresponsible words or irresponsible silence. we need not be traipsing down pennsylvania avenue to be in the thick – to be complicit, to be implicitly consenting, to actively perpetuate that which is dangerously wrong. we need merely to look around – closer in – at our own state, city, community, the organizations in which we are involved. 

we are in the thick – of the new year. it would seem the most important things we might do – as we start down the 2024 road – is to be certain to be aware, be informed, ask questions, avoid making assumptions or just believing what we are told. it would seem important that we speak up, speak out, speak for, speak against injustice, wrongdoing, marginalization, agenda, a lack of transparency, discrimination, abuse, evil. 

for in speaking up or out or for or against – in seeking truth, advocating for truth, insisting on truth – as citizens of this land, our states and our communities, as conscientious participants in organizations and institutions – we would be doing the responsible thing. 

and in not? the converse – irresponsible. 

martin’s words remind us to think about where – in the thick – we resolve to stand.

*****

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

it would appear that nature is decorating for the holiday season. even in the browns and tans and greys of the fallow, color bursts out at us. it’s stunning. the honeysuckle is unmoved though – it is standard fare in the winter to be berried. we, however, stop to appreciate it.

we decorated early this year. right around thanksgiving we put up our eileen-tree (which we named “e.e.”), pulled out the mini-trees i love to place everywhere, added twinkling white lights and silver ornaments. there are snowflakes and pinecones from the forest floor and heartfilled nods to my children-in-younger-days and my scandinavian heritage. we unearthed the boxes of vintage glass ornaments and shiny brites from my sweet momma and poppo and placed those ever-so-gently on the happy-light-lit big branches we now have year-round in the living room. it looks like christmas.

each day goes by faster now it seems. and then it’s friday again. i’m not sure where the time goes. as we make our holiday cards and a few handmade gifts to send out, george winston’s december is on repeat – the quiet of this album is speaking to us this season. bombastic christmas or vocal-gymnastic-laden carols seem like too much noise. restraint seems more in line with our spirits. more serenity.

there are many festivities to choose from – out there. we thought about a concert or two and lingered back. we thought about a holiday festival or two and lingered back. we thought about stores and crowds and lingered back. we will finish making our cards and creations and do a bit of boutique shopping. we may make a cookie or two. the krumkake of ages past nudges us and sip and feast taunts us with a long island italian almond cookie (gluten-free). we sit under blankets in a darkened living room – lit only by happylights. we savor the sparkle. we sit in content silence, we tell stories of past holidays – wistful, tearing up, laughing, lost in memories and hopes for future holidays.

and there is the woods.

whenever we can, we take time out there. the forest reminds us of both the everpresence and the evanescence of it all. it reminds us of the passing of time, the changing of seasons, adjusting to harsh circumstances and it reminds us of the rejuvenation and renewal of spring. we know that beyond the cold and frozen, there will be warmth. it’s all fluid and some things – like transition – are certain. there is silent wisdom – of the ages – you can feel as you place your feet – emanating from the dirt of the trail.

it is no wonder that nature has already decorated – with quiet fervor and vivid color – for the holidays.

*****

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silence is not golden. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

“if what one has to say is not better than silence, then one should keep silent.” (confucius)

and then there’s the other side of the coin – the side where silence is not golden.

silence doesn’t stop injustice. it doesn’t stop bullying. it alludes to apathy and indifference, even complicity. it is a ship in a harbor. it is safe. it is spineless.

speaking up – of truth – is not babbling. it is not the proliferation of lies, of the made-up. it does not propagate agenda nor does it perpetuate a culture of the unquestioning. it screeches falsity to a halt; it brings focus to ambiguity; it stands up.

we choose our course. we choose what is or is not important to us. we look to others for wisdom and the ability to sort our path. we make errors in judgment; we keep quiet. we learn. we find our voice.

for me, cousin jerry’s t-shirt said it all: “SPEAK UP!”

because:

“silence becomes cowardice when occasion demands speaking out the whole truth and acting accordingly.” (mahatma gandhi)

“if you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. if an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.” (archbishop desmond tutu)

“we must always take sides. neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. silence encourages the tormentor, never the tormented. the opposite of love is not hate, it’s indifference.” (elie wiesel)

each time a woman stands up for herself, without knowing it possibly, without claiming it, she stands up for all women.” (maya angelou)

“in the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.” (dr martin luther king jr)

“you own everything that happened to you. tell your stories. if people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.” (anne lamott)

“each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope.” (robert f kennedy)

“do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” (the golden rule)

“speak your truth quietly and clearly.” (max ehrmann)

with a modicum of tact, with compassion for those who have been wronged, with courage and vulnerability and timidity holding hands-hands-hands, standing in the fire of what is truth-telling, there is hope.

*****

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in simplicity. [d.r. thursday]

the front of the garnet hill catalog features a collection of stones and says, “there’s beauty in simplicity.” yes. i recognize those rocks – they are scattered through our house…pebbles of mica-laced igneous, slices of red rock, chunks of granite, smooth water-worn river rock. small cairns stacked on the windowsill or the sunroom table, a vase with rocks that are special but can no longer be traced back specifically to why. simple beauty, they remind us that we are all a part of it. no less, no more.

as i get older i realize that i am leaning into simplicity. i am less inclined to be moved by fancy stuff, more given to the unembellished. we hike on trails and are reminded of nature’s brilliant eye for decorating the world. no tchotchkes or trinkets, just no-frills and unadorned life.

i’m guessing this propensity – this leaning – has something to do with my love of arvo pärt’s tintinnabuli minimalist exquisiteness. spiegel im spiegel on repeat. not fussy. not ornamented. straight up gut-wrenchingly beautiful, much like the pine needles in the snow. two monodic lines – melody and triad – woven into the simplest tapestry and “expressing the composer’s special relationship to silence”. nothing bombastic. no blustering. purity.

“there’s beauty in simplicity.” stark, unpretentious, natural.

i couldn’t agree more.

*****

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