reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: universe


by 1 Comment

waveform. [merely-a-thought monday]

it was a cacophony of sound in the restaurant. so.many.people. but it’s chicago and it’s summertime and it was a beautiful night and a trendy 7pm dinner hour, so it’s to be expected. we leaned in to hear our daughter speak and figured most eateries at that hour would be similar. i’d imagine that the frequency decibels would be all over the place and that any recording of the ambient sound would have to be compressed in mastering to accommodate the full spectrum, most especially the louds, the gain between quiet dinner and boisterous restaurant.

i’ve looked over the shoulder of my producer probably hundreds of times, watching the waveform of my music. reducing sound and hours of composing to crisp contrails, manipulating them, editing, mixing, ultimately mastering – it’s complexity, the telling of narrative, an artform in itself.

i would imagine that – somewhere – there is one colossal frequency wave. it started when all-time started and it keeps going. it builds and wanes and layers all manners of sound – the roaring ocean, a tiny peeper frog, a destructive tornado, a baby’s first cry. it mixes piano and the gentle ding of a triangle, cymbal washes and sweeping cello lines. it wraps in first graders singing in denver and the country artist on the flatbed in nashville and the happy guy in the shower in fort wayne. it expands with the din of the city and gets tiny under northern lights and the milky way. it soars over countries, soaking up rich sounds of tradition and ritual, vernacular music.

and then, the frequency wave – giant, unending, inclusive of all sound – is distilled by the wind. it becomes a bit less distinct, its edges are less rigid. particles break off and float, and, though they remain in the atmosphere a long while, they begin to fade, eventually fading as if to zero.

but just as the wave feathers on one end, it grows on the other, pushing forward. and all things continue. all sounds have a place in the wave.

and we listen to live music and the birds at 4am. and we listen to the voices of beloveds and mournful foghorns. and we listen to laughter and sighs. and we listen to the rain and the silence of sunrise. and we listen to harmony and dissonance and cacophony.

and it’s all a contrail in the sky.

*****

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

QR code above or use this link if you would like to help support our content creation. xoxo


by 1 Comment

daisy dust. [d.r. thursday]

there is a single dried daisy on the dashboard of littlebabyscion. it’s been there now for just shy of ten years. i don’t suppose it really even looks like a daisy anymore, but it is. it’s one of the first daisies – well, one of our first daisies – from our first meeting a decade ago.

when we clean the inside of littlebabyscion, we are careful around the daisy – for surely, it could easily turn to dust after all this time tucked into the dash. if that happened, i’m quite sure we would survive. it is merely a marker, a relic of the start. time – and the we of this story – continue on. even – someday – after the dust.

she told me that she could see a small green shoot. in between all the beautiful dried daisy dust and the dust of fallow and the dust of disappointment and the dust of challenge, a small green shoot. she reminded me that all of creation is starting anew now in this season of spring and that we are no more and no less of creation than the new daisies or striped squill or dandelions or grand tulips and budding aspens and flowering dogwoods and early redbuds or cherry trees. we are no more or no less than the creatures busily preparing their nests for new birth. we are no more or no less than any planets lining up in the night sky. we are, like everything else, shimmering stardust.

i can feel the green. it shows up with the open window to my side. it shows up with the sun on my face. it shows up – roaring – in the wind from the west and it shows up – quietly – in the east side of the sunset.

in the decimated woods of the trail we love there is green sneaking up between the mulched branches and underbrush. the energy of the green is contagious. new possibility on the horizon…to abstract, to notice, to build upon.

nothing can quell the energy of stardust. no matter when. it – like everything – continues on and on, vibrating in absolute connection. a metamorphosis of seasons. daisies on the dashboard.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY


by 1 Comment

simply love. [saturday morning smack-dab.]

“…and now, you’re here, in a world of hypocrisy and your love can heal us all.” (you’re here – kerri sherwood)

in a universe fraught with challenge, an overabundance of materialism, a shortage of generous kindness, with unprecedented division and bigotry and marginalization of people, it would seem that whatever deity to whom we choose to turn – by whatever name we choose to whisper in prayer or utter in beseeching voices – that, in our turning, we look for light. it would seem that our fervent wish be healing.

it is not complicated.

it is simply love.

*****

YOU’RE HERE – kerri sherwood (recorded on an iphone at the keys of an out-of-tune church piano. maybe one of these days i will be able to record it properly.)

read DAVID’S thoughts this SATURDAY MORNING

and here – another slice of the celebration of the season – from years ago:

and – in this week of preparation – i am reminded of previous years, many, many people gathered in community singing in celebration.

it is the work and the gift of a minister of music to help bring ancient stories to the hearts of people, to help those stories resonate – to help that which is not seen, that which is so mysterious, be felt – through music. we choose melodies that soar, harmonies that weep; we choose lyrics that tug.

my memory bank is full of solos and anthems and cantatas from decades of bringing them to congregations. this is an excerpt of narration and a song from a cantata i composed years ago called “the light is here – a christmas cantata”. this particular recording was performed by the choir of first united methodist church. ❤️

THE LIGHT IS HERE – excerpts – narration & HOLY – kerri sherwood

SMACK-DAB. ©️ 2022 kerrianddavid.com


by 1 Comment

the stars are watching. [k.s. friday]

littlebabyscion is ready. i washed it and vacuumed it and wiped out the inside, reorganizing its small storage spaces, checking to make sure the necessities were there. we travel always with a small tool kit, duct tape (this is from experience), twist ties, rubber bands of all sizes and a big maglite flashlight. light is always good on a dark highway, but the light was barely discernible when i checked it, so i changed the batteries and put extras in a small bag that also has jumper cables and a quart of oil, things we have determined to be practical. in the winter there are a few additions, a few things that my sweet poppo always made sure i carried along. but it’s still late summer, so the extender snow brush/scraper can hang in the garage just a bit longer and the kitty litter doesn’t need to come along. littlebabyscion is ready to go to the shop today and come home later with a muffler that doesn’t make noise. (to muffle: to make quieter and more difficult to hear; muffler: a device fixed to the exhaust of a motor vehicle to reduce engine noise.) it waits patiently in the driveway until The Time.

the people who know – like our mechanic, the exhaust system shop, our plumber, our electrician, the drain experts, tree services, gardening wizards, the company we will choose to be our mason – they are like lights in the darkness. along with their expertise and the wisdom of friends who have beentheredonethat we survive the normal – and not-so-normal – challenges of home and car ownership. it would seem rare – a person without some sort of concentric circle of informants surrounding them in problem-solving and decision-making. asking questions, asking for advice, seeking information are the basis for learning and, it seems, every day is an opportunity for that. (and we haven’t even mentioned the whole changing-bodies piece of this life-thing.)

we stood outside on the deck, the only light from a few torches and the bonfire across the yard; we gazed at the sky. it seemed thousands of stars gazed back at us. the james webb telescope has delivered photographs of space back to us here on this planet, a place that feels big but is merely tiny in the vast. seeing billions and billions of light years away, i read that the webb captures not just the birth of stars but, also, their last dances. it is hard to wrap your head around looking back in time in such a profound way. the light goes on and on. and on.

we each build a framework around ourselves. none of us exists without the other, really. at a time when our purple-mountain-majesty-land continues to be divided and people fight for control and power and are practicing efforts serving to undermine, marginalize, divide further, it would seem prudent to remember the tiny-in-vast. transience.

we can be the light for each other…in so many ways. or we can snuff it out and try to go on without. the stars are watching.

always prepared, always planning ahead for possible big bangs, my poppo would vote for light.

*****

TRANSIENCE from RIGHT NOW ©️ 2010 kerri sherwood

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY


by Leave a comment

whittled. [merely-a-thought monday]

“we all travel the milky way together, trees and men.” (john muir)

the pandemic rages on, wreaking destruction; after 800 years, jupiter and saturn line up in the sky. and i cannot wrap my head around the absolute-insignificant-significance of each of us. in this moment, on this piece of earth, under this sky, we whirl through space and time, reaching out to grasp onto bits of life – merely air – and make a dent in the atmosphere where we stand.

2020 has been a year of whittling. it has whittled away at our safety. it has whittled away at our health. it has whittled away the physical companionship of our loved ones. it has whittled away relationships, through political divide, social justice mores, the pursuit of personal freedoms over community. it has whittled away trust, heaving it to the side as we watch, astonished, as untruths, gaslighting, even propaganda surround us both under the cloak of country and up close and personal. it has whittled away the security of our finances, our work suspended. it has whittled away at our shock gauge; each time thinking there has been enough and being surprised by yet more, the baseline of dismay ever-changing. it has whittled away the convergence of reality and logic and it has left confusion in its place; it has paralyzed us and it has frightened us. it has whittled away what we understand.

and yet, the trees stand steadfast. they continue to reach for the sun, arms held out to the light. they neither seek to understand as they grow nor question the storms that have battered them. they just are. their place in the milky way dents the atmosphere a tiny bit, just as ours does. we travel, in various rotational directions, hundreds of thousands miles per hour along with the trees. all of us, together.

“you are a child of the universe; no less than the trees and the stars, you have a right to be here. and whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.” (max ehrmann, “desiderata”)

*****

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


by 1 Comment

but it’s not. [d.r. thursday]

the cold air was stinging my face. i pulled my scarf up further, to block the wind a bit more. as we rounded a curve in the trail, the breeze was biting. it seems early for this kind of cold. but it’s not.

it’s december and the official start of winter is right up around that bend in the trail. the cold is predictable. this is wisconsin.

i walked away from the stockpot of chicken soup i was stirring, waiting for a warming dinner. i sat on the steps in the hall, overwhelmed. i keep hearing and picturing the words of my firing, the non-explanation-explanation given to others. it may seem like it’s time to be over it. but it’s not.

it’s only been three weeks and even sitting on the steps doesn’t yield an explanation or comfort. it just creates more questions, more astonishment, more hurt. the distress is predictable. this is shock.

i look, again, at the christmas list in my hand, trying to summon up the energy to shop and wrap and ship. it seems like the time is going slowly. but it’s not.

the holiday is rapidly approaching and, like many of you, we face it alone, wondering how to celebrate without our loved ones. we grieve traditions set aside, normal ways we honor these holidays. we ponder what we might do anew. the sadness is predictable. this is loneliness.

the night sky is filled with stars, the cold air beckoning them. the moon out the window is steadfast. the vast universe is vast. our tiny world inside, away from the biting wind, down the hall from the steps, at a table with a steaming bowl of chicken soup and a tiny christmas tree, is tiny. it seems that real peace is somewhat elusive. but it’s not.

it’s ever there.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

and, if you like, browse PEACE ON EARTH products here – be sure to scroll down the page


by Leave a comment

always. with us. [k.s. friday]

always with us prayerflags

my emotional well was full when i woke up today.  thinking of us, our children, our families, our dear friends, our community, this world.  i desperately want to gather our beloveds in, hold them close, protect them.

i have no words for all of this; i have too many words for all of this.  i fear that none of them are helpful, none of them are wise.  it’s just me.  and, like you, carrying the weight of the world one step at a time, one quiet minute at a time, staring out the window and wondering.

always with us

we are alone

 

download ALWAYS WITH US on iTUNES

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

prayerflags pastel website box

ALWAYS WITH US from AS IT IS ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood

 


by Leave a comment

a creation. joy. [d.r. thursday]

 

Joy copy 2

JOY mixed media 50″ x 56″

he painted this early on in the days he lived in wisconsin. a big canvas, his brushes moving effortlessly, carefully, intentionally, jars of paint by his side. and JOY came to be. i immediately loved it. equally, i loved being present for the process. i got to WATCH. a creation in the making. beautiful. he stood back and looked at his work.

regardless of your belief, you certainly must acknowledge that somewhere along the way there was a big blank canvas. a divine being named whatever-honoring-name-you-want-to-name-this-presence moved brushes effortlessly, jars of unimagined colors, buckets of stars, clouds full of rain and snow, mountains of hills and mountains, fields of fields and open rangeland, oceans and lakes full of water, gigantic test tubes of atoms and cells that would eventually turn into plants and trees, amoeba, bacteria, organisms, mammals, reptiles, amphibians, people – all by the side of the canvas. this supreme being moved effortlessly, carefully, intentionally. and the world came to be. a creation in the making. beautiful.

we hang this painting and gaze at it, interacting with it daily. we feel the joy of it, the color. we have relationship with the painting; it speaks to us and we listen. we respond to it, respecting it, hanging it out of direct sunlight, preserving it and keeping it beautiful.

we stand in the world and gaze at it, interacting with it daily. we feel the joy of it, the color. we respond to it, but do we respect it? do we have relationship with it? do we listen as it speaks to us? do we concern ourselves with its sunlight, its atmosphere, its water, its land, its living things – all of them? do we preserve it? do we keep it beautiful?

view and/or purchase JOY on david’s gallery website

drc website header copy 2

read DAVID’S thoughts this D.R. THURSDAY

shadow in surf HH website box

JOY ©️ 2015 david robinson

 

 


by Leave a comment

guidance is eternal. [merely-a-thought monday]

guidance framed copy

it drives them nuts, i’m sure, but i still write or say “triple always” to my children.  a redundancy of course, the “triple” emphasizes the “always”… an unnecessary modifier that says “eternally”…. i love you eternally.

there is a boeing commercial we see often.  in it, the narrator is stating steps of preparation for flight, counting down.  then she says, “guidance is eternal.”  that’s what i have heard every time.  until one time i asked d why he thought she said that.  he responded that she was actually stating, “guidance is internal,” which clearly makes more sense in the aviation world.

i had to listen more closely the next time to hear “eternal” as “internal”.  i did discern the difference, but i still, each time it airs, hear “guidance is eternal” anyway, and maybe that’s a good thing.  it serves as a reminder from an unlikely source, a sort of subliminal message, perhaps, at a time i need it.  an absolute when looking to the universe for answers to unsolved questions, small eddies of confusion, sorting and attempts at balance, at level positivity, seeking wisdom from those who are beloved but on another plane.

the guidance is there.  waiting.  it is internal AND it is eternal.  triple always.

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

moon website box copy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


by Leave a comment

unfolding. [k. s. friday]

unfolding song box copy

“…and whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should…” (desiderata by max ehrmann)

when i listen to tracks i have recorded i can either picture the time i spent writing at the piano or the time i spent in studio recording.  this piece drums up the same image; in a time of pronounced inspiration and the transferring of much emotion into music, this was simultaneously written and recorded at yamaha artist services in nyc back about 15 years ago.

even then, i could see the willows-bending-in-the-wind characteristic of life – it will unfold as it should, despite our best efforts to stymie it or change it or enhance it.  and so i loved when ken, my truly amazing producer, added a bended electric guitar line, arching and buckling, flexing around the melody line, a musical painting.   even now, and i suspect as will always be, i try to be that willow, bending as the wind takes me, allowing the universe to unfold.

“unfolding: trying to trust that life is unfolding the way it should be” (liner notes)

download AS IT IS on iTUNES or CDBaby

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

laughing website box

UNFOLDING from AS IT IS ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood