reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


1 Comment

two tiny parts. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

i am – truly – not quite sure how we would survive without this trail.

it offers sanity in a world that seems to be losing its very center. it offers quiet in a world noisy with horrific news. it offers peace in a country that doesn’t seem to understand peace any longer.

we breathe on this trail.

we talk about other things – projects and dreams.

we get lost in our own thoughts.

we – know – in the way nature makes clear – we are simply two tiny parts in a big whole.

blogsites supply some analytics about your blogposts. wordpress can tell us which posts are viewed, how many views, how many visitors we have, their countries of origin. the site, however, is not totally protected against bots, so some of the information – when the numbers seem exponential – is obviously generated by non-human sources. there are moments i laugh – or sigh – and say things to d like, “wow. like they have nothing better to do in name-a-country than to sit around reading reverse threading, eh?” i know better. my words are not likely to assuage – or even be the vaguest bit interesting – to people in dire circumstances, in countries full of upheaval or war, in places where trying to find just a bit of food is paramount. i am humbled by people who are in such drastic conditions or situations.

we have a thing about our shadows. and our feet, too, truth be told. there are many photographs on my camera that depict our shadows or our feet in a wide array of places. “we’ve been here,” i feel like these say.

it’s like a footprint. though the prints and tracks around us in this picture will fade with snow or rain or other prints and tracks, they will never really go away. the imprint will always remain part of the texture of the path, a part of the fabric of the trail.

i feel like our shadows are the same. though the moment the clouds move across and block the sun, the moment the sun dips below the horizon, the moment we move on – our shadows seemingly disappear. yet, something in me feels that they actually remain. our shadows – like the shadows of deer crossing the path to find shelter in the bramble, the shadows of hawks and a bald eagle or two above, the shadows of squirrels scurrying or horses elegantly cantering through, even the shadows of fuzzy caterpillars making their way – they all remain part of the many layers of what has existed, what has passed by, what remains in the energy of that place.

there are people imperiled in every corner of our world and there are people honing cruel skill at the denigration of others. there are people thriving in closely-held self-actualized dreams and there are people burdened with feelings of failure. there are people who are always the helpers and people who hostage-take others’ well-being. we all add to the energy of the world.

i feel like i really would like to do my best to make sure my shadow adds even the tiniest bit of goodness to the vibrating atoms of this world. being outside reminds me of the evanescence of it all, the transitory of us.

*****

INSTRUMENT OF PEACE mixed media 48″ x 91″ – available for sale

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly support an artist whose work directly impacts you.


1 Comment

wisdom of the stanchion. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

one of the coveted front spots beckoned. it is pretty unusual to arrive at this grocery store and for there to be a front spot open. we don’t mind walking from afar but when it’s 150 degrees out with humidity tilting the charts – and you don’t personally have central air conditioning – and you just came from a hike where you nearly melted into the gravel in the parking lot – you take the coveted front spot because from there to the door of the pretty bitterly cold air-conditioned store is merely steps. steps, i say! i pull littlebabyscion into covetland and start to jump out of the car – ok, slither is more like it – when i see the sticker on the stanchion in front of the covetedspot.

“you are beautiful”

in this moment – when my hair is plastered to my head, my lake-geneva-tjmaxx eddie bauer first ascent sun protection UPF50 lightweight moisture-wicking trail guide capris are two-way-stretch-stuck to me, my injinji coolmax no-show toe-socked-toes are screaming for freedom, my eyes are watering from coppertone spf 50 dripping down my forehead – unchecked by my meager blonde eyebrows – into my eyes – which makes my nose kinda run – and i look wrung out, not at all fresh or pressed or glowing from being outside and from having exercised – i do not feel beautiful.

“you are beautiful”

i laugh aloud, get my phone and schlither myself somewhat-debris-flow-ish out of the car and to the front of littlebabyscion so as to take a photograph of this sticker, prolonging by at least 45 seconds my entry into the much-anticipated cool-dom of the store. two young girls are walking by – looking fresher and definitely tan and glowing – while i position my camera. i’m pretty sure they were wondering why this melted woman was taking a picture of the metal post in front of her car.

i take a closer look as i get ready to click.

below the sticker that reads “you are beautiful” is another sticker. this one says “visitor” with a smiley face as the “o”. sheesh. i nod. i soooo feel like a visitor to this place. particularly right now. and i’m not talking about this grocery store. everything that is happening is hard to understand, to grok, to even slightly wrap my head around.

visitor. yep.

because what i really believe – in my rainbow-bubbles-sunrise girl kind of way – is that if we could all embrace each other – respect each other – treat each other kindly and with equality – rights, privileges, care and concern – if we could really truly look at the words “you are beautiful” and believe these words about all people – all people – regardless of any – any – differences – we could stand a chance of survival.

anything less makes us visitors to a land of ill intent, a land of corrupted souls, a land of immorality and sociopathic narcissism. and nothing about that is beautiful. we are privy to that.

nevertheless, i show my photograph to david as we walk into the store.

“you are beautiful”

he gets a cart and stops for a second. he looks at me and says, “you are.”

i hook my arm through his – as he begins pushing the cart toward the baguette aisle – and – for these moments of freon/puron/HFC/HFO/other-refrigerant-bliss – all is right in the world.

*****

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

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

buymeacoffee is a website where you may directly impact an artist whose work directly impacts you.


Leave a comment

the spirit with us. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

you can feel it.

there is a spirit in this place – the john denver sanctuary in aspen. it is palpable.

we go there – specifically – to feel it.

because it feels like the past, the present and the future all at once and – here – it all wraps around your heart.

we are both john denver fans. not the ridiculous push-to-the-front-of-the-crowd-for-a-signature type. just the quiet, eternally-grateful type. he has inspired us. he has inspired me. he made the simple melodic gesture a visceral thing. he elevated folksy messaging and storytelling; he reinforced the beauty of a lack of adornment. simplicity.

and when we stand in this beautiful place – designed to honor him, his composing and songwriting, his vision of the world – we are standing in and with his spirit. and you can feel it.

we slowly walkabout, arm in arm. we hum the songs chiseled into granite boulders. we stand immersed, pondering, in front of quotes of john muir and leonardo da vinci and helen keller and rachel carson and jacques cousteau.

we seek out annie’s song.

and we can feel it. the spirit in this place.

we feel at home here.

we stroll away and take it with us, carrying it in-between the times we stand there.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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

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


Leave a comment

welcome sign. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

welcome flag .PNG

the first time we went to the tiny farmer’s market on island we ran into a few people we had just met.  new friends, they stopped to chat for a time and tom said, “the whole island is a welcome sign.”  that seems to be true.  a welcome sign.

yesterday we heard about people standing in line in the little grocery store.  the clerk and the customer checking out were having a chat.  no one in line interrupted.  no one shuffled their groceries.  no one shifted from one leg to the other, impatiently sighing loudly.  they just waited.  and then, when it was their turn, they had their own chat with the clerk.  the grocery store is a welcome sign.

we were walking down the road arm in arm, a few miles from home, and an old light blue pickup truck pulled up next to us.  a sweet old man leaned out and said, “you two lovebirds want a ride?”  we laughed and said that we were out for a stroll.  motioning to the bed of the truck, he told us he had plenty of room but added, “it looks like you are doing just fine.”  we chatted a minute more and he pulled away.  a welcome sign.

we were obliviously riding our bikes on the road, looking for deer in the woods.  talking quietly and laughing at my attempts at no-handed riding (which, by the way, came back after a try or two), i suddenly realized there was a car behind us.  i motioned quickly to d to pull over in front of me and get out of the car’s way.  as it passed, i called into the rolled-down window “sorry!”  the driver called back, “no worries!  enjoy your ride!”  no horn beeping, no revving of engine, no grumpy voice, no gesturing.  just a “no worries!”  a welcome sign.

it’s a sweet thing, this welcome.

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

feet on the deck steps website box