reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: two artists living together


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flat-friends or real-live people. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

gobsmacked is weak. astonished makes it sound like something glorious. horrified is more like it.

i cannot wrap my head around the fact that half this country is supporting THAT candidate – a xenophobic, misogynistic, racist, authoritarian-praising, fascism-seeking criminal who cares not an iota about anything other than his own power. i cannot wrap my head around the fact that half this country is THAT ugly.

and what’s worse – it is because they are not thinking, they are not researching, they are not asking questions, they are not reasoning. they are merely believing what they are fed – hook, line and sinker. and they are flat-screening their ugly positions on social media, garnering likes and strokes – because they have forgotten what real community is, who real people are. the flat-screen has taken the place of real interaction, real communication, going to real places, doing real things, real life. the clique of people who would “un-friend” them in a millisecond – who are only on board the bandwagon with them for the same likes and strokes and hate-mongering – have become more important than real-live people. and they can’t see it.

were they to remember what real community is, they would be concerned with what would surely be the annihilation of women’s rights, the rights of the LGBTQ community, the rights of every non-white, the rights of humans under the constitution of the united states.

were they to remember what real community is, they would not substitute real-live people with flatland. rather, they would stand with real three-dimensional people in their three-dimensional family, in their three-dimensional friend-group, in their three-dimensional town, their three-dimensional state, their three-dimensional country.

were they to remember what real community is, they would not bury their faces in the screens and tvs that amplify that which feeds their clearly deep-seated hatred but which does not avail them of the facts, the danger, the intentions of this maga candidate. they would not abdicate their ability to seek the truth, to reason, languishing instead in the glory of maga popularity.

were they to remember what real community is, they would take to task this party which is undermining their personal communities, they would pay attention to how this destruction of democracy will actually affect their lives and the lives of those who follow after them.

were they to remember what real community is, they would choose love over hatred, forward-thinking over going backwards, together over divided. they would drag their faces out of their flat screens, away from their flat-friends, wrap their arms around the targets of this brutally unhinged candidate and tell them that they truly care about them, that we are all here to lift each other up.

but they don’t remember anymore. and they don’t think. and they clearly don’t care.

or do they?

i find that utterly terrifying.

this is a three-dimensional world with three-dimensional repercussions of your vote.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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

we entered the tranquility of sand dune arch. we had passed by sandstone discs of giant proportion, climbing into a slot that took us into the almost-hidden area tucked between towering rock formations. and suddenly, we were in the midst of graceful lines of years gone by, of weather that had formed gentle arches, softly curved stone, a garden area like no other.

if there was a designated female arch, this must be the queen of them all. such beauty, color, sunlight playing off sweeping angles. it was stunning. and in here, taking in all of this, the temperature – that was soaring in the nineties – was cooler. this was a place of serenity, of peace, of revitalizing, of comfort. it was, no doubt, one of my favorite spots in all of arches national park.

without fear, d and i stepped into the slot at the back of this courtyard of red rock. we slid along the narrow passageway until fallen rocks blocked our path. we marveled at what seemed frozen in time but was in reality ever-shifting, never static. we were truly in wonder.

there was a certain camaraderie as we stepped out of these discs, out of this beautiful sand-rock-garden. we spoke to other people, all amazed by the sheer power of this place. there were no lines drawn, no differences, no fingers pointed. it was utter embracing of the moments we had experienced. we were all thrilled to have experienced the kind of beauty into which we had stepped. together we tried to come up with superlatives that even just began to describe this place.

this is the america i understand.

the appreciative, the generous, the together.

it was quite a while before i scrolled after that. not only because scrolling in the car is motion-sick-worthy, but because i wanted to stay immersed in all we had seen, i wanted to stay wrapped in the beauty of this land. driving in the car and staring out the window gave me tiny insights into new places that studying my phone – and missing it – would not have afforded me. i wanted to stay in the america that I understood.

but time – like these red rock formations and arches and hoodoos and canyons – does not stay still. time is fluid and, in due time, we were back at our airbnb and checking in on our phones was of the moment.

and then, i was astounded by what i saw and read. and now, i am astounded by what i see and read.

this is not the america i understand.

this place – with half this country supporting a presidential candidate full of hatred and fascist intention – is not deserving of this beauty we were witnessing. this place – with a party claiming to wish to make america great again – pushing people under water, drowning fought-for freedoms, amplifying extreme bigotry and xenophobia, annihilating the rights of women and of the LGBTQ community, eliminating the ideals of democracy. it is dangerous. it is utter madness.

this is not the america I understand.

there are 63 national parks and 429 national park sites in these united states. there are innumerable state parks and tribal park sites. we visited 5 national parks, one state park, one tribal property. merely the tip of the iceberg, as they say. the sheer number of people viewing these beautiful places demonstrated a love of this land – by so many.

so how can one stand in a place so glorious – in this country – and have such an ugly heart as to align with the fascist ideals of a madman who surrounds himself with the most evil?

i don’t understand.

america, we are at a crisis point.

all the beauty put together – from across all our land – from every national park, every state park, every tribal or historic site, every everyplace under the sun from sea to shining sea – will not rejuvenate our democracy if we lose it in this election.

and no graceful arch, no sandstone hoodoo, no soaring mountain or bottomless canyon, no rippling stream or rushing river or glassy lake, no sunlight or moonlight or bluebird sky day will be able to change that.

it is up to us. right now.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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the past, the present, the future. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

our daughter wrote, “it’s a hidden gem!” and i agree. we were grateful for her encouraging us to adventure here.

one of my favorite places, goblin valley state park in utah was a playground like no other. two artists – with active imaginations – we could have stayed there all day. this place – full of hoodoos and really interesting sandstone/siltstone formations engaged us, made us giggle, invited us to run about in delight, insisted we play.

we were invigorated – even in intense heat and unforgiving sun. even as we were there – even before we had to leave – we talked about coming back, to be with these sprites, enchanting stone babies.

we traveled to many national parks in our nine days all together. though we would hike to take photographs and explore sites a bit, our inclination to hike the narrows at zion remains a wish for another day, trails at bryce remain unseen. the hike right up to delicate arch at arches will have to wait and an attempt at crossing the grand canyon – rim to rim – or even riding down into the canyon didn’t make the cut – this time.

but goblin valley was another story. and the absolute charm of these goblins tugged at us – taunting us and enchanting us.

i sat down on one of these sandstone sculptures, tucked into its graceful shape – mystified by the sheer beauty of the valley. once again, i was but a tiny being, part of a much bigger whole.

this time – this time – i was touching the past, the present and the future…a sandstone deposit from 170 million years ago…this very day…and these magical hoodoos which would prevail long after i am gone.

*****

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

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which story? [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

sometime between 300 and 1300 c.e. there were people in this south central utah area who wanted to tell a story, to preserve it. their narrative – told in petroglyphs – was about their daily living – their families, livestock, wildlife they hunted. it was a narrative of living in community. it is astounding to witness the carved chiseling of so long ago, humbling to imagine living in such a harsh, difficult environment. you can feel a pull from the earth as you stand there – something that binds you to those moments so many centuries before. you gaze at these figures and are struck by the humanness of this history – despite absolutely different living conditions, we all simply wish to tell a narrative of our living.

the petroglyphs we were fortunate to see at capitol reef did not depict fighting. they did not depict division nor hatred. they did not depict power or control struggles. they did not depict what would certainly be pictured as part of petroglyphs were there to be some telling the tale of right now.

in absolute embarrassment about how low this country’s people have sunk – the inability to hold democracy and freedom-of-all-to-live as essentials – the spewing hatred and vitriol – i cannot imagine what story petroglyphs etched into big red rock canyon walls now would tell – later.

covid has given us some free time. in-between moments of feeling absolutely horrendous, we have succumbed to reading articles, scrolling the news. it is utterly disturbing.

i want to scream, “this is not about you!!!” to people caught up in the despicable hate, in the misinformation, the disinformation, the conspiracies. i want to beg people to consider the future of this country’s democracy, the future beyond their own lives, to vote for something hopeful. i want to ask people to just stop, listen, think, consider.

i do not recognize you – you, who are supporting the heinous intentions of the maga-party. i do not recognize you – you, who are turning a blind eye to people in your midst who you claim to care about or even love – as you sign on to extreme changes of freedoms in these un-united states. this is not a difference in policy-embracing; this is a deeply undermined philosophical difference on humanity. i do not recognize your heart, turned so very angry, exclusionary, cold. and, in turn, my heart is broken, seeing this, seeing you – now.

but i know the power of rhetoric, the sheer toxic force of those who lie. i have experienced being the subject of warped narrative, of agenda-riddled powermongers. and in my tiny subset of experience, i have seen people – who i never would have expected – support the lies, push the ugly agenda, fight to win. but it is in their winning that they truly lost. and i believe they know that.

if there were to be petroglyphs or pictographs on red rock canyon walls telling our story – the story of we-the-people of these times – what would we wish them to depict?

it boils down to a pretty basic question.

is it a story of community? or a story of devastating division and hate?

which story?

who are you?

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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not bad. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

in an understatement of understatements, the words “not bad” on the sticker on the railing at this bryce canyon overlook made me laugh aloud.

for this was grandeur, indeed.

the expansive country in front of us – here at our very first overlook – rainbow point, the highest elevation of the stops.

the national park brochure describes it as poetry in stone and i would agree. it is a dynamic place, ever-changing, engaging beyond the pale. you cannot help your heart soaring, your pulse racing. it is every word and no words.

we were thrilled. to be there. to be there all together. to experience this inspiring place.

the brochure promised mesmerizing. the canyon land did not fall short.

we were completely awestruck by its magic.

yes, bryce, not bad.

*****

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

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matchy-matchy. [kerri’s blog on saturday morning smack-dab.]

this is not fun.

not that I expected it to be.

we have been really cautious through all this time – years, really – trying to be respectful of and avoid getting covid.

but here we are…in our matchy-matchy red buffalo plaid flannel pjs, suffering together.

those who have been through this already know about the fever, the headache, the incessant cough, the intense sore throat, the congestion, the tightness in your chest, the exhaustion, the aches and pains and all that. it is one hellish virus. it’s somewhat stressful for me just knowing i have this. i can’t help but remember the early days of the pandemic and the heart-breaking devastation it wrought. we have been fortunate; we haven’t ever tested positive before though we have each had some of the symptoms.

but here we are…in our matchy-matchy flannels, complaining and whining together.

a good night’s sleep seems like a really good idea – until you are laying there, coughing your silly head off all night.

dogga doesn’t seem to mind how we look or sound – and we are ever-so-grateful to be home.

but we are a bit worse for wear.

so don’t mind us as we stay put – here in our house or out on our back deck…in our red buffalo plaids, sniffling and coughing and making our way out of covidland.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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get patriotic. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

“there is nothing so american as our national parks…the fundamental idea behind the parks…is that the country belongs to the people, that it is in process of making for the enrichment of the lives of all of us.” (president franklin d. roosevelt, 1934)

it is impossible to stand in our national parks and not be filled with a pure sense of patriotism. the vistas of zion national park – and each place we experienced – sparked our “america, the beautiful“.

even right now, when the word “patriotic” presents entendre at best questionable, we could feel it…the heart-swelling kind, the proud-of-this-land kind, the we-are-so-fortunate kind. certainly not the nationalistic, extremist, exclusionary, divisive, white-man-only-drum-beating kind.

we were all trying to take a little time away from politics, from the news of the day, trying to immerse in the beauty and ignore the ugly.

but – i must say – ignoring the ugly in the middle of the beautiful seemed irresponsible to me. because just as our national parks are fundamentally ours – belonging to the people of this country – so is the constitution and the goodness of this country. and that, my friends, is in peril. and i could not forget it…even out in the sacred wild-ness of this land.

project 2025 – the playbook for maga – seeks to repeal the 1906 antiquities act – the first united states law passed for the purpose of protection of these national parks and places of national monument, protecting cultural and natural resources with historic or scientific value. project 2025 wishes to eviscerate these protections, giving that administration free latitude on decisions for all these lands.

standing in bryce, in zion, in arches, in capitol reef, in the grand canyon, we can only be too aware of the presence of the protections for these glorious tracts of land. we cannot imagine another fate for these places of intense beauty. this landmark law – the antiquities act – has safeguarded these places for the use and enjoyment of current and future generations – a law of responsibility and virtue.

the national park service pledge promises to the people of the united states “the owners of our nation’s parklands” – among other things: “to protect your right to experience the presence of superlative wildness and scenic grandeur, to communicate to all an understanding of the people and events that shaped these united states, to join with all people of this and other nations in conserving and renewing the total environment to keep this world a pleasure to live in…”

there was an older woman – likely in her 70s – heading toward us on the path. she was clearly enjoying her time at the park. and as she passed, she proudly wore a “women for –” maga hat on her head. i stared at her hat. every ounce of me wanted to stop her and have a conversation. i wanted to know what had happened to her in her life that made her wish for a man who demeans, abuses, detests women to be the president of this beautiful country. i wanted to know how she could – in all good conscience – wear a hat with the name of a convicted felon, a rapist, a liar, a racist, a misogynist, a grifter, an insurrectionist, an exceptionally narcissistic inward soul-less and pathetic old man. i wanted to know how she could support that candidate’s efforts to undermine the rights of so many. i wanted to know if she was thinking about any future generations. i wanted to know how she could justify that candidate’s desire for autocracy, for revenge, for a cruel and divided america. i wanted to know how she could walk on this sacred and protected land knowing that her candidate of choice doesn’t give a damn about it. i wanted to know how she could wear THAT hat.

i simply cannot wrap my head around it.

it was impossible to avoid. here we were – in the grand expanse of unspeakable and stunning beauty – and i was worried.

there is little time left before this election.

it is time to get patriotic – in the purest and truest sense of that word. protect the constitution of this country. protect the rights of the people. protect the land. protect your daughters and sons and grandchildren. protect the united states.

turn the page on this hideous candidate and the extremism of his ugly self-serving and incoherent, angry rhetoric, his vile intentions.

move forward. keep this world a pleasure to live in.

*****

patriotic: having or expressing devotion to and vigorous support for one’s country.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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to share this. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

if it were possible to feel like a pine tree, this would have been the day.

in the vastness of this bryce canyonland, we stood on the edge – like this pine tree – and gazed over an incredible expanse. it was not merely beautiful. it was beyond words.

and, once again, i felt it in my heart – that wobbly feeling you get when you realize – truly realize – how utterly small you are in all of thissssss.

we celebrate our anniversary today. there is so much more to explore. there are many more adventures to be had. there are more uphills and downhills. there are more learnings and experiences and times to hold.

and there are more moments like this – where we are reminded of the tiny morsels of being that we are and the sheer gratitude for the chance to be here, to share this.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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

“happiness is….happiness is….happiness is…different things to different people. that’s what happiness is.” (ray conniff)

i can’t use these glasses – gifted to us – without hearing that song. our tonic and lime makes it happen every time. I don’t fight it. i succumb to it – humming or bursting into song – at least inside my head.

nine years ago the monday of this week was the start. everyone was on their way – sometime during that week. we entertained at our old house each night – and everyone present came for dinners we prepared with an entourage of kitchen helpers. it was a barn raising in every good way.

by the time we actually got married – at the end of the week – we were pretty darn tired. but happiness? it was abundant.

every now and then there is a moment, a snag, a who-are-you-and-what-are-you-doing-here. we all have them. but, in the way of moments, they are momentary. and if i give myself space to think about the passage of time and everything that has brought us to the puny moment, to allow in perspective, i am able to process, to rejuvenate out of puny, back to happiness. ok….not an immediate bouncing-dancing-leaping-about kind of happiness, but a deep-from-within happiness that reminds me of the reason we two people joined. the support, belief and love of our families, friends, community have generously seen us through.

every now and then there is a moment, a wildly astonishing wide-eye, a heart-lifting teary eye, an i-wouldn’t-wanna-be-anywhere-else. and, in the way of moments, it is a gift, a reminder of the unlikeliness of ever having met, a gratitude for how the universe aligned two tiny stars distantly apart, a peek into the big heart – and the sense of humor – of whatever deity you wish to name. those are bouncing-dancing-leaping-about kinds of happiness moments.

each year that we celebrate another year we relive that week preceding our wedding. each year we are grateful. each year we are really aware of happiness … which begets happiness … which begets happiness.

happiness is.

thank you for being a part of us.

*****

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

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a season for pink. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

it is a season for pink.

a time for women. to stand up. to speak up. to speak out. to vote. a time for men. to stand up. to speak up. to speak out. to vote. in support of women.

though i have not remained quiet, i cannot be silent. i – literally – cannot stand the hypocrisy another second.

in a tip-of-the-iceberg quote from the maga candidate about illegal immigrants, an argument he has amplified over and over for remigrating as many non-whites as he can, “they’re bringing drugs. they’re bringing crime. they’re rapists.” (time magazine 2015)

my rapist was not an illlegal immigrant. he is a white citizen of the united states.

e. jean carroll’s rapist was not an illegal immigrant. he is a white citizen of the united states.

frankly, with my apology for the strong language, i am weary of the bullshit.

i am weary of the double-standard. i am weary of the lies, the warped narcissism, the self-aggrandizing, the distractions.

i am weary of this appalling concerted effort by white extreme misogynistic nationalists to limit women, to undermine their choice, to silence their voice.

i am weary of the rapist running for president. his vileness should have destroyed his presidential aspirations long ago.

but what i find even more unconscionable is the utter complicity of men and women who will vote for this repulsive movement, who will turn a blind eye, who will vote for this predator. how low will you go to sabotage your daughters, your mothers, your granddaughters, your sisters, your girlfriends? women, where is the value you place on womanhood, on yourself, on your freedoms, on how you have fought for and lived your actual life? and men? where is the value you place on womanhood? or don’t you?

stevie nicks says it well in her new song, the lighthouse: “don’t let them take your power…don’t leave it alone in the final hours. they’ll take your soul, they’ll take your power. don’t close your eyes and hope for the best. the dark is out there, the light is going fast until the final hours. your life’s forever changed and all the rights that you had yesterday are taken away. and now you’re afraid. you should be afraid, should be afraid….is it a nightmare? is it a lasting scar? it is, unless you save it and that’s that unless you stand up and take it back, take it back.”

we watched roed, a short video by dawn lambing, earlier this week. it took my breath away as it depicted two women pulled over, subjected to a urine pregnancy test on the side of the road. it was horrifying, and, in this maga-triumphant post-roe climate, not unlikely.

yet, this is the direction maga wants to go, this is just merely part of the road – the swift controlling highway – of project 2025. 925 pages of mandates to remove freedoms, to marginalize people, to undermine democracy, to abolish any checks and balances, a takeover of the federal government shifting power to an authoritarian leader, a document designed to rule the populace.

are you listening any more? are you paying attention? are you merely entertained by this chaos? have you considered this maga candidate’s incoherence, his ugly, his rhetoric, the propaganda?

or does the maga plan make you somehow feel good, feel powerful, feel justified in your complicity, in your support, in your vote??

have you THOUGHT about any of this? do you have a bottom line to feeding – what is obviously – your abundant hatred?

it’s unconscionable. and you know it.

and it makes me weep to think you think it is ok.

it is a season for pink.

“try to see the future and get mad. it’s slippin’ through your fingers. you don’t have what you had. you don’t have much time to get it back.”

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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