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my mom. still. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

every time i turn a shampoo bottle over and empty the remains into a new shampoo bottle – each upside-down tap of the bottle, drawing the last vestiges of shampoo to the top, makes me think of her.

every bird in the backyard, every endcrust of bread, every leftover dinner, every time i do laundry or make lists, merry morning sunshine.

every time we use the wire cheese slicer, every time i pass by the snake plant, every time i tend our houseplants, every time i thank someone who has generously served us in some way.

every time i see a dachshund or a hosta, every time i think of Long Island, every time i write in my calendar, every area rug on a wood floor, sweet potatoes, math.

every time i make do, every time i save something for ‘special’, every time i turn a few specific phrases or use a coupon, collect rocks or driftwood, every time i make – or have – french fries or iced tea.

every time i see liverwurst or have rye toast, catch the aroma of roast beef in an oven or see a jar of ragu sauce.

when i see beets, when i have onion dip, when I devour crumb cake or chips ahoy, when i coffee-sit, when i repurpose things, when i think about baked ziti or darning socks.

when i defend how to pronounce “sauna”, when i see the “sisu” sign in my studio, spiral notebooks and scrap copies, when i hear “wowee!”, when i stood at the edge of the grand canyon.

every time. i think of my sweet momma. and I wonder how it is possible that she left this world ten years ago today. ten. ten years without her. ten years of not being able to pick up the phone and call her. ten years without mom hugs. ten years without a mom who would listen to any story i told her – any number of times i told it – knowing that my biggest fan was this woman, who was ahead of her time in so many ways.

i wonder how she is feeling now about the turn of all she left behind. i wonder if she has that certain stink eye she’d get, wishing to admonish this country’s current leaders and those following in lock-step. i wonder if the public deflection and distraction of some – avoiding the truth of their choice, avoiding taking responsibility for that choice, literally cheerleading this horror, loudly or silently – i wonder if seeing all that makes her crazy. knowing my momma – and her humanitarian and political leanings – i’m fairly certain she is pretty “irked” – as she would say. she is likely fired up and giving someone a piece of her mind somewhere on the other side. as high-road as she was (and, probably, is) she is not one to put up with the destruction of the country for which she and my dad sacrificed.

and so, every time i speak up or speak out i think of her. every time i voice absolute protection of the rights of members of my family. every time i express horror for the dismantling of this democracy and the cruel disenfranchising of people of the populace. every time i see another nail skewering women. every time i read about the dumbing-down, the elimination of history, the blunting of truth, the big-time grift. every time i stand up for what she taught me about kindness to people. every time. i think of her.

and every time i see the print “live life, my sweet potato” i think of her. and i miss her. yet again.

i think it will always be this way.

after all, she’s my mom.

still.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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pi(e) in the sky. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

i owe my love of math to my sweet momma and two amazing math teachers in junior high and high school (woody and bill).

so to look up in the sky and see ‘pi’ made me laugh aloud. of course i sent a photo to both of my kiddos with the caption “so is this what they mean by pi in the sky?” – to which neither responded a peep. oh well. i thought it was pretty funny – in a corny kind of way.

it did, however, make me think of all things pi-in-the-sky, er…pie-in-the-sky.

pi (3.14…) is a constant. it never changes. it is the ratio of the circumference of a circle to its diameter. it is used in many equations and – from the time you learn it – is a number you just never forget.

yeah, kind of like the constitution or the declaration of independence. once you learn about them, you never forget.

well, most people never forget.

well, some people never forget.

anyway, here we are – in the middle of a constitutional crisis – with the declaration of independence mouth-open-silently-screaming relevancies at us – and my pie-in-the-sky is that it will all just stop – with a happy hallmark ending where all rifts fade and all fighting ceases and people just love one another and live in peace and harmony and respectful, compassionate democracy for the rest of all time.

pretty pie-in-the-sky-ish, eh?

a dear old friend sent me a youtube video of the song beautiful city (from godspell):

“out of the ruins and rubble/out of the smoke/out of our night of struggle/can we see a ray of hope?/one pale thin ray reaching for the day… we can build a beautiful city/yes, we can/we can build a beautiful city/not a city of angels/but we can build a city of men/we may not reach the ending/but we can start/slowly but truly mending/brick by brick/heart by heart/now, maybe now/we start learning how/…when your trust is all but shattered/when your faith is all but killed/you can give up bitter and battered/or you can slowly start to build!…”(stephen schwartz)

i am hoping against hope that this is not pie-in-the-sky. that a chance remains for this country to rebuild – to stop this madness – to stop the evil and cruel extremism that is taking over – to stop authoritarianism – to stop the ruining of this democracy.

pi in the sky above me, i couldn’t resist taking a photograph.

i couldn’t resist sending it as my picture-of-the-day.

and i couldn’t resist hoping – at least for a little bit – for some pie-in-the-sky.

*****

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

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

i hardly know where to start.

truth seems to have taken a leave of absence from this country, no longer useful or appropriate or agenda-aiding for the current administration. instead, we – as a populace – are being fed smarmy falsehoods and all manner of fabricated bull in the name of “truth”.

the ability to manipulate any story, any image, any narrative, any situation, any anything is on the exponential rise. it is hard to discern what is real and what isn’t, what communication we receive or read is real and what isn’t, what images we see are real and what aren’t.

which makes it ever more important to delve into something before jumping whole-hog into believing it.

case in point – the biggest inaugural crowd.

case in point – everything re covid, including bleach and this: “just stay calm. it will go away.”

case in point – winning the 2020 election.

case in point – the peace-loving tourists in the capitol on january 6.

case in point – “they’re eating the dogs. they’re eating the cats.”

and on and on and on and on and on, ad nauseam.

despicable.

and that’s all old news, old old news, old old old news. nothing like the news of the day: stuff made up to validate chaotic, cruel moves by the administration to accomplish hellish corruption.

the ease in which they manipulate you, your hook-line-and-sinker dedication is their frenzied rapture. truly. (it is ridiculously hard not to use bluntly profane language to make this point.)

if you are believing – without bothering to check – what this prez and his team o’ teams are spewing, you are as wrapped up in his sickness as he is. delusion is a powerful contagion and a profound addiction.

like i said, i hardly know where to start.

be a good citizen. look it all up. double-check. have a conscience. save the democracy.

it’s vital.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

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be a good rollie pollie. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

many, many years ago – when my children were little – they used to play a computer game called bugdom. it was based on perspective from – well – a bug’s life. the actual plot – as i recall – is way too contemporaneous now for comfort but the graphics – at the time – were fascinating and the mac version of this game was amazingly realistic. winding your way between bits of vegetation and rocks, you could feel immersed in bugdom as you – playing the part of a rollie pollie – try to save other bugs – like ladybugs – after an evil and tyrannical ambush of the bug kingdom. like i said, too close for comfort.

i often think about what things look like from a different perspective. it is essential as artists. the trying-to-stand-in-someone-else’s-shoes thing is important to me. things that are affecting bugdom are not just the things that are affecting me. since all of bugdom is interconnected, anything that is affecting one is, therefore, also affecting me. we try not to be so isolated – or cavalier – as to think that the plight of the ladybugs will not affect us rollie pollies.

so i get down on my knees to shoot photographs from a vantage point swinging on a snowdrop or a wild daffodil leaf. i sit on the ground to shoot pictures through the may apples. i take videos of caterpillars on their plane of existence, practically laying on the ground.

because everything changes when your perspective changes – when you allow for a shift in how you are looking at something, when you entertain empathy and compassion – when you stand in another’s shoes.

somewhere in the old romper room do-bee song i’m guessing there’s a line that says “do be a good rollie pollie.”

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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were my momma. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

were my momma still alive, i would purchase this for her. she would have loved the bright colors, the sweetness of it. mostly she would have loved the message – be kind. she was not a complex person, not really. she had a basic approach to living. be kind pretty much encapsulates it.

were my momma still alive, i would bring it to her and we would plant it in a garden she could easily see or, more likely, plant it in an indoor pot, maybe with a snake plant or aloe.

were my momma still alive, we would chat about things. we would talk about how the illustrator of this garden-art post depicted happiness. we would talk about color and folk art and hearts and simplicity.

and then we would talk about right now.

were my momma still alive, she would be appalled at the state of this country. she would be gobsmacked by the outright cruelty and lack of attention – shall we say – to the law, to decency, to morality. she would be devastated by the rifts in her own family. she would be sickened by the rapid dismantling of our democracy and the descent into hellish authoritarianism. she would remind me – though i need no reminding – that my poppo fought against fascism, risking his life being taken prisoner of war – all to keep this country safe from the exact sort of thing that is now rampant.

were my momma still alive, she would weep. and i would try to console her, wrapping my arms around her in a hug, holding her just as she used to hold me in times that i was inconsolable. she would be tired then. she would lay down in exhaustion, wringing her hands in intense worry, fear across her brow, tears on her cheeks.

my sweet momma died ten years ago now – on the 29th of april. i still feel the loss of her in every fibre of my being.

i might go get this garden-art post. because – though it would cost money we are big-time reticent to spend – it would be like my momma is physically here. at least just a tiny bit.

*****

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

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


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in an insane world. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

in an insane world, barney is sane.

barney has been stalwart, steadfast, unwaveringly standing in the garden through every infamous weather challenge – the rain, the sleet, the snow, the ice and the wind, the extreme heat, the drought.

it is one of the most gorgeous things in our backyard. we have watched it age, its wrinkles, its furrows, its jowls. we have watched it struggle to stay young, fresh, shellacked. we have watched it give in – to time and the elements. and, in that giving-in-ness, we have watched grace in real life.

in this insane world, i have thanked our old house and its painted-wood countertops, its old floors, its cracked plaster, its doorknob-less six panel doors. i have admired the tile floor in the bathroom and the way light streams in through the double-hungs. i have relished the paintings on our walls and the fabulous chunks of concrete that serve our living room. i have whispered to our house and i have thanked its familiarity and its comfort. i have taken refuge in its security. i have reveled in our comforter, our dogga at our feet, coffee by our side, happy lights. i have simplified need and put want to the side.

in this insane world, i have patted littlebabyscion as i get in and out, stroked big red as i have walked past it in the driveway. i have noted with great appreciation the wild geranium and the day lilies pushing up through cold dirt, the buds on breck. i have sat on adirondack chairs on the deck – still a bit bundled up – watching birds and squirrels, sipping wine and eating maybe too many chips. i have been grateful.

and i have gazed at barney-the-piano, over there, in the garden. i have felt it steadying me.

in this insane world, i have thanked barney.

“pardon my sanity in a world insane.” (emily dickinson – and barney)

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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

if you don’t feel overwhelmed right now – and you are in the united states – than you are – clearly – an anomaly.

we pulled up behind this car at a stoplight. the “#notnormal” bumpersticker got my attention.

nothing seems normal. nothing IS normal.

we – in this country – are facing down the collapse of everything we have known, understood, loved.

it is utter madness. crazy-deranged. grotesquely-mean. sociopathic.

i am resisting. i am trying to resist. and i am failing.

i am resisting fear. i am resisting depression. i am resisting confusion. i am resisting horror. i am resisting rage. i am resisting the madness.

i am trying to resist fear. i am trying to resist depression. i am trying to resist confusion. i am trying to resist horror. i am trying to resist rage. i am trying to resist the madness.

i am failing at resisting fear. i am failing to resist depression. i am failing to resist confusion. i am failing to resist horror. i am failing to resist rage. i am failing to resist the madness.

all of it. a melting pot of fear, depression, confusion, horror, rage, madness and – yes – resistance.

because this is all so exponentially not normal.

we – all the rest of us mortals – are all trying to breathe one breath at a time. in and out. inhale. exhale.

and we – each in our own way – resist the madness.

because we have to.

*****

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

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these dang chips. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

we try to resist. these days it’s nearly impossible.

i mean, we don’t have a whole heckofalotta vices but these dang chips – well – we have succumbed.

we do try to avoid them by keeping them out of the house. if you don’t go to costco you can’t buy them. if you go to costco (a store we adore for their staunch support of diversity, equity and inclusion) but don’t costco-mosey and don’t go to the wall-o-chips, you can’t buy them. if you go to costco and actually buy them but don’t open the bag and leave it on the top shelf of the left side of the pantry in the kitchen, you can’t eat them.

yet, even with all these avoidance techniques, we have failed – numerous times – miserably. and then we think – eh – so what – it’s just a bag of chips! it’s not like a crime against humanity – which we can identify because we are seeing plenty of those these days.

so we eat chips.

my name is kerri and his name is david and we eat chips.

but only sometimes.

not all the time.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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shiny and matte. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

each morning now, as dogga awakens us or we just mosey out of sleep unprompted by a cold nose snuffling us, i can hear the birds. in the middle of every everything, it is the birdsong that gives me joy as i wake.

when i was growing up on long island, my birthday was serious spring-cusping-time. no longer were winter coats or down vests necessary. the forsythia was blooming and the sweaters were out. i can still hear the birds in the woods behind our house.

i’ve been watching the weather, hoping for a nice day. it’s supposed to be cloudy with a high of 54. surprisingly, though there is a definite absence of forsythia, it will be warmer today than in my old hometown. we will likely go for a hike somewhere – one of our familiar – but loved – trails. because it’s a thursday we’ll have dinner with 20 and we will probably play rummikub together.

and sometime during the day i will sit and ponder turning 66. I’m not sure what 66 is supposed to look like – physically, emotionally, spiritually, economically. i know that many people around me have had different journeys to 66, some of which are much more predictably stable than my own.

nevertheless, i plan on being in wonder. i’ll put lack of perfection aside, next to disappointments and failures. instead, i will look at abundance and think about what would be blue-notebook entries – the mica moments that glitter, the blooms that are ready to blossom, the things that can’t be contrived or spun – all those shiny times and matte times that just simply happen so that we might notice, pay attention and embrace them for all the rest of time.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

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

“the ordinary days have a way of lulling us into believing there isn’t any urgency to them…” (john pavlovitz)

we chose to binge-watch a favorite show’s entire season, under the quilt with snacks by our side and dogga at our feet. because there is this – living. and so we chose to stay still together, our socked feet nuzzled. we chose to go nowhere, to link arms sitting against the pillows in bed, to watch the afternoon sun wane through the window and turn to night. minutes and hours ticked by – an ordinary day embracing right now.

for there is – after all – an urgency.

an urgency of loving. to tell others around us they are loved. to unflinchingly gaze at each other – our partners – to speak the words every beloved wishes to hear, to catch your breath, to quietly hold hands.

an urgency of standing in the fire with each other. in the middle of any storm, any wound, any challenge, any anything – and to not close off, to not be aloof, to not ignore the pain, to hold healing together.

an urgency to do. to speak, to stand up, to fight back, to forgive, to create, to tear down. there is an urgency to recognize the driving force, to gather the tools, to seek the empty spaces, the vessels, the air, the canvasses to fill, to touch the imperative.

an urgency to breathe it all in. to go, to see, to voice, to hear, to taste, to touch – every microscopic bit of it. to immerse, to be one in it all, to be inert to the point of boredom, to move frenetically.

it is today. it is right now. we are only assured of this very moment, this very place. in feeling it – really feeling it – i hope that – for this moment – every other place disappears.

for there is an urgency in limited limitless. and so, in each and every heartbeat.

*****

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. xoxo