reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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digging paws. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

according to AI – which is interesting to quote on a somewhat ironic level – “artistic expression is the process by which creators translate internal emotions, thoughts, and personal experiences into tangible visual or conceptual forms.” (ironic because, well, AI is doing so much creating-creating-creating, yet the question – is it even a question? -remains of the existence of any internal emotions, thoughts and personal experiences as they relate to AI, void of all of that. but i am digressing. we are talking about “artistic”” expression and the truth of emotions, thoughts and experiences.)

aussies (australian shepherds) love to dig. they not only love to dig, but they are damn good at it. dogga is not an exception. he is a next-level digger.

and so, because he is simply expressing himself – particularly at this senior point in his life – we have decided not to put boundaries on this expression. we fill in the holes so he and no one else trip and he digs them again. it is a small price to pay to see our sweet old dog in his bliss. and someday – which, no matter what, will be too soon – we can again have closer-to-perfect grass in our backyard. it’s really not important. in the meanwhile, we applaud his translation of “internal emotions, thoughts and personal experiences into tangible visual and conceptual form“.

it’s like that with all of us artists. to have others applaud our translations, rich in emotion, thoughts and experiences – whether in dirt, clay, canvas and paint, dance, words of verse or story, notes of music you can hear and feel though not touch as they float by – is to acknowledge not just our bliss, but our imperative to speak, in whatever medium fits.

it’s not applause-applauding we seek. it is freedom-to-express-applauding, the granting of the air on this earth to us – the artists – just like it is granted to all other ways of living, ways of being, all other imperatives. it simply can’t be helped or stopped. it is the way of the earth, of thinking minds, of questioning hearts, of the visceral and the emotive, of making something from nothing.

and, i guess, of digging paws.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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the other times. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

the meme “yeah, i’ve tried shutting up. it’s not for me.” jumped out at me today. it made me laugh aloud.

and i guess it’s true. 

i TRY to keep my opinion to myself. sometimes. i TRY to keep my mouth shut. sometimes. i TRY not to say what i’m thinking. sometimes. i TRY to remember i’m SOMETIMES better off not saying anything. sometimes.

and then…there are the other times.

ya know what i mean?

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2024 kerrianddavid.com

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pray for our nation. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

pray for our nation copy

i am a sign-reader.  whether i am driving or riding in the car, i read signs.  billboards, people’s clever license plates, bumper stickers, storefronts, oh, and road signs.  there are certain areas of the country where signs for attorneys are rampant.  other areas tout strong religious beliefs.  some signs are clever “buckle up next million miles” and some are deeply insightful “when there’s only one race and that’s mankind… love is in you.”  because we adore both road trips and short drives, we are privy to signs galore.  one of my pet peeves is to see blatant spelling or punctuation errors on billboards; it makes me rant for several minutes about editors and proof-reading and the propensity for people to ignore the amazing thing called the dictionary.

we took a drive the other day.  it was after all the services of the week were over and we were unplugging.  turning the car west we headed out in search of a new hiking trail.  on our drive we passed this sign.  PRAY FOR OUR NATION.  no fancy font, no centered spacing, just four simple words.  i don’t know how long that sign has been there.  it’s not in the front yard of any religious building; it’s just there, in a small park-like setting.  i thought, “no kidding.”  it seems apt timing.

instead of reading the paper first thing everyday now, we are reading meditations.  we are considering the mica moments of the day before, the mica moments to come.  we are trying to be hopeful, trying to slough off pettiness and disagreement, trying to avoid those who are clearly toxic to themselves and others, trying to engage in positive ways, trying to spend time doing things that advance us as humans in a big world rather than mire us in stunted selfish plots to further polarize and make inequity even more profound.

PRAY FOR OUR NATION doesn’t just start with folding hands and closing eyes, as much as that may help.  it also starts with reaching out hands, opening your eyes, listening, learning, believing that there is only one race and it is mankind.

buckle up.  next million miles.

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

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