reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: yamaha recording artist


by 1 Comment

hold the light. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

(about this week: there is a peril, it seems, to writing ahead these days. we had decided that this week – the first full week of a new year – we wished to use images of light as our prompts, we wished to linger on the possibility of light, of hope, of goodness. though our blogposts might stray from that as we pen them, it was without constant nod to the constant updating of current events – a mass of indefensible, unconscionable acts. we pondered what to do about these blogposts we had written and decided to keep them. we hope that – whether or not any absence of the happenings of the day, whether or not the chance these written words seem somewhat inane at this moment – you might know that those events – of corruption, illegality, immorality – do not distill or distort our intention – to bring light and hope to this new year – the first days of which bring more insanity and unnerving instability. we are still holding space for light.)

and so…

reticent to un-decorate, we left it all up. we were just hesitant to take down all that glitters, all that sparkles, all that gives light to the season. we were hesitant because there has been so much dark.

it is not out of the norm to be questioning what is happening here. to give over – without inquiry to integrity or morality – is to abdicate, to align, to be complicit.

in this earliest part of 2026, i hope that there will movement to right this country and its unconscionable adoption of the unprincipled as its leaders. i hope there will be steps made that, instead of demolishing diversity, equity and inclusion, will light a fire beneath the heart strings of this very diverse populace, powerful wicks embracing differences. i hope that the inhumane and unjust treatment of people – downright cruelty – will cease. i hope that the constitution will hold.

it is outrageous – in this day and age – 2026 – a time that should be filled with brilliance, forward-advancing research, safety measures and social safety nets for all, a dedication to action concerning climate change, and a world concerned with those who follow – that we are in this place – by most measures – becoming a cauldron of atrocities.

it is unbelievable – in this day and age – 2026 – in this country – that we are surrounded by untruths, steeped in the tactics of evasion, drowning in elitist indulgences, worried about basic necessities.

it is chokingly sad – in this day and age – 2026 – right here and right now – that we are watching this democracy shake at its core, that we are being bullied from republic to regime.

leaving the holiday decorations up didn’t change any of it. but in these winter days of early darkness, it helped hold the light a little longer. and so, we have left a few bits still – bits of light surrounding us, not packed away.

and maybe that’s the inspiration we all need.

hold the light of this democracy.

do not partake in snuffing it out.

*****

HOPE © 2005 kerri sherwood

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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

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


by 1 Comment

what endures. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

when it fell from the tree, i doubt that this small branch envisioned any impression its fall might make. i doubt that it held any thought of impact, for it was suddenly a singular, solitary branch, away from other like branches, away from its tree. i doubt it held any real future in its mind’s eye. it just fell.

but the snow was soft and fluffy and the branch, falling from higher on the tree, fell with just enough oomph to sink into that snow, to carve out its shape, to lay still in a casting of itself.

and even if the wind had blown and lifted up the browned leaves of the tiny branch, which – in turn – lifted and blew the tiny branch out of its molded-snow-home and it ended up no longer right there – on the trail – in front of me, it would still have left its mark.

i passed by it. and in my passing by, i saw it.

i don’t know how many others passed by this branch lodged into the snow. i don’t know if anyone else noticed it, looked at it, photographed it.

but i do know that it made an impression on me. and i remember it.

and oh, that ever-percolating ancient question of legacy, of what endures.

it would do us each good – particularly in these times and in this place – to keep that in mind. the dimmest impression – though maybe even vague, even amorphous or indistinguishable – is still an impression. it may still be remembered. it still counts. it was there. it remains there in the continuum of time.

what impression do we want to cast?

*****

BLUEPRINT FOR MY SOUL © 1996 kerri sherwood

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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

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


by 1 Comment

who’s got time? [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

“life hack: stop trying to be cool. be nerdy and obsessive about the things you love. enthusiasm will get you farther than indifference.” (posted on barkersounds IG)

this could possibly be my new mantra. nerdy and obsessive and (possibly overly) enthusiastic.

indifference slays me. the whole aloof, apathetic, flippant thing. all that gets under my skin, which is particularly sensitive to all the stuff on the opposite end of the spectrum from nerdy, obsessive about the things you love, and enthusiastic.

so that might explain the excessive photographs of barney, the old piano in our backyard, losing keys and structure in each season, its patina dusty wood. it might explain the innumerable pictures of breck – in every season – its leaves – budding in early spring through its golden age in autumn. it might explain why i take a zillion photos and generally completely annoy my adult children with my wish to capture them on film (well, “film” so to speak).

my sweet momma was a person who was also pretty nerdy and obsessive about the things she loved and, most definitely, enthusiastic. her “wowee!!!” goes down in history as a word she owned, and each of us knows we are referring to our beaky when we use that word.

life is short. that becomes more and more apparent as the years go flying by. the age spots on breck’s leaves are like the age spots i find on my own person. everything is fluid and keeps changing and the youth of our budding – like our aspen’s – is fleeting.

i can see no reason to not be nerdy. i can see no reason not to be obsessive about the things i love. and – yes – i can see no reason not to be ridiculously enthusiastic.

i mean, who’s got time for anything else?

*****

GRATEFUL © 2004 kerri sherwood

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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

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


by 1 Comment

waltz in the gazebo. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

we had the gazebo all to ourselves. it is likely that the tropical-storm-nor’easter had something to do with this. no one seemed inclined to be strolling about, nonetheless lingering on the gazebo.

so we danced. on the rain-soaked boards of this beautiful age-old gazebo, we waltzed to the music on my phone – the cherish the ladies instrumental if ever you were mine – the very piece we irish-waltzed at our wedding, surrounded by a circle of family and friends.

and on this dark starless night, with rain drifting in under the domed wood of the gazebo, it was not only magical. it was a little bit healing. it was sacred.

for here we were – both literally drenched – all alone on the gazebo of my youth – lifting the cellophane of the old magic slate – starting a new history.

just a couple people passed by in the park, walking the edges of the harbor. they paid no attention to our slow dancing. much is the way of new yorkers: you do you they imply.

we weren’t looking for an audience, so that was good. we were just sinking into the night – in the middle of the storm – in the middle of the storm.

and i could begin to feel the old break away a bit and new replace it as our feet got jumbled together in the waltz we hadn’t waltzed in a while.

i clicked play a second time, lifted the cellophane a second time.

just to make sure.

*****

SLOW DANCE © 2002 kerri sherwood

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

listen on PANDORA

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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

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


by Leave a comment

fire. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

when they were little, i was accustomed to watching their growth spurts – these moments when their tiny bodies were overcome by fiery energy of growth……a sudden few inches here or there…a burst in language or fine motor skills. childraising is a continual surprise. just when you thought you knew what you needed to know – at least temporarily – you were stymied by your own tiny child – and you became a little heap of not-knowing uncertainty. oof. it’s all a glorious mystery.

the one – and only one – daylily wasn’t giving up. all around it, blooms had tired and turned into wrinkled brown tissue, stems were drying out, its green frond-y leaves were yellowing.

and then, the growth spurt of this one last blossom – not yet willing to give up the game. it raised its head to the sun, singing.

we are watching the transition to autumn – all around us. fallow is in the offing, just off-stage, waiting for the summer to clear and sweep the wood floor of time it had inhabited. lighting is clearing the way for dark, a slow decrescendo of available daylight. sound is preparing to – soon – shut down the microphones of cicadas and crickets. the props of summer – all the heavenly hot-sun blooms and flowers and produce and herbs and the fantastic tapestry of color – the stagehands of fall are collecting them, quietly putting them to bed.

but the daylily in the front garden is having none of it.

in the middle of the transition to the quietude of fall, it is speaking loudly. it is not remaining silent. it is – in fact – screaming out to us to “remember!” it is reminding us we don’t know it all.

daylily’s transition is not without noise. it is not without color – its flame orange a loud pushback on what seems inevitable – fading fall, falling.

it is having a growth spurt of independent spirit. one lone bloom. glorious.

“instead of silence, she chose fire.” (celeste ng)

*****

IN TRANSITION ©1995 kerri sherwood

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

TRANSIENCE © 2010 kerri sherwood

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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

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


by 1 Comment

to fly. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

“each of us is in truth an idea of the great gull, an unlimited idea of freedom,” jonathan would say in the evenings on the beach, “and precision flying is a step toward expressing our real nature. everything that limits us we have to put aside.” (jonathan livingston seagull – richard bach)

as this new school year begins i think of all the teachers and mentors i have known – those who were my teachers, my professors, my mentors, those who taught my children, friends who have been teachers, my own time spent as a teacher, instructor, director. immensely different stories, all over the spectrum.

the common denominator – to empower others to push themselves without limits, to reach their own potential, to become the best version of themselves, to fly. jonathan’s imperative.

growing up on long island meant – in the sheer sense of the word island – that i was surrounded by water. i spent a great deal of time by that water, particularly when i was able to get myself there – by bike or my little vw. i was always enchanted with the seagulls that lined our coastline, seagulls swooping and diving and soaring. the book jonathan livingston seagull was a treasured possession, kept close on the little bookshelf next to my bed. my paperback copy is waterstained and priced at only $1.50, evidence of its long tenure in my life.

even back then – on a beach towel at crab meadow beach in the mid 1970s – it was clear that the search for a life of purpose and excellence meant, also, a life of self-discovery and risk-taking. but susan polis schutz’s words “let us dance in the sun wearing wild flowers in our hair” rang for me as joyful north stars.

and so i watched and studied seagulls flying in community, flying alone. i walked the beach together with others and alone. i studied poetry with others and wrote in my tree alone. i sat on spotlit piano benches with a boom mic on old wooden stages together with others and alone.

my son recently wrote some vulnerable words. his post ended with, “…stick with it no matter what. tell your story.”

were jonathan livingston seagull around, he’d nod and think of an elder seagull’s words to him, “you will begin to touch heaven, jonathan, in the moment that you touch perfect speed. and that isn’t flying a thousand miles an hour, or a million, or flying at the speed of light. because any number is a limit, and perfection doesn’t have limits. perfect speed, my son, is being there.”

i paged through my old book. and went back to the title pages.

there in pencil i had written one of the lines i quoted above:

“everything that limits us we have to put aside.“

*****

TAKE FLIGHT © 1997, 2000 kerri sherwood

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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

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


by 5 Comments

and so should we. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

somehow, this tiny plant is surviving.

it’s growing. maybe even thriving.

in this moment, in this time, despite all the challenges it has faced, it is facing, it will face, despite all it does not know, it persists – growing in the top rail of the fence that spans the river.

this tiny plant is grabbing on to life. and living it.

and so should we.

*****

IN A SPLIT SECOND © 2002 kerri sherwood

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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

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


by Leave a comment

sweet potato sprouts. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

we are sweet potato fans. and it was in recent research we realized we had been storing our sweet potatoes incorrectly – in the fridge. no wonder they were going bad sooner than we expected. so we moved them (and the russets and the gold yukons and the vidalia onions and the garlic) to a hanging basket in the stairwell which seemed to exponentially lengthen the life of this store-bought produce.

and then there was this day.

david – laughing – said, “ya gotta go look at the sweet potato in the stairwell!”

to say that i was surprised was understating. hot pink shoots were growing out of our sweet potato…sweet raspberry-colored, tiny-leafed shoots of a plant…right there in the basket hanging over the stairs, over the bin with dogga treats, next to the angle-broom and the swiffer, adjacent to the bag-o-bags hook.

and a science experiment was born as, suddenly, we were farming sweet potato.

we put some good potting soil in a planter and – just guessing, with no research – we planted the entire sprouted sweet potato tuber in the dirt. we watered it and stood back.

now, we had no idea what to expect. we truly did feel like we were in junior high – with a science fair project report due in a few weeks.

instantly, i was back in ninth grade, typing my lab reports on thin erasable typing paper. i loved typing and used any excuse to type. my earth science teacher – everyone’s favorite – charlie – graded our lab reports on a check system. check, check-plus, check-plus-plus, check-minus. i pretty much always got a check-plus-plus because, well, that was the kind of diligent student i was. he never wrote any comments on my lab reports, which was disappointing, so i began to wonder if he was really reading them. i decided to experiment a bit. i started to include the words of nursery rhymes – randomly – in my lab reports. i kept getting check-plus or check-plus-plus and he never said a word, convincing me that any genius lab report i might have written had gone undetected. years later we crossed paths on some social media and i reached out, asking him if, perchance, he remembered me. his response was classic: “of course! you typed nursery rhymes in the middle of your lab reports. how could i forget you?” but i digress.

in just days our little sweet potato’s tiny leaves leafed out and it has begun a growth cycle that will force us to reckon with what to do next. we are considering a metal trough planter, but also recognize that there isn’t long enough for the sweet potatoes to develop into sweet potatoes. it is a conundrum. but a truly sweet (no pun intended) reminder of the amazing turns of life and growth and actualization.

in a time during which so much is grabbing at our attention, a country and people disappointing us beyond belief, more corruption than we can wrap our heads around, we are grateful for this hot pink attention-grabbing sweet potato slip.

“live life, my sweet potato,” my momma always told me. i think i feel some sprouts comin’ on.

*****

GRATEFUL © 2004 kerri sherwood

download music from my little corner of iTUNES

stream on PANDORA

read DAVID’s thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

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

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


by Leave a comment

tattered. [kerri’s blog on flawed wednesday]

tattered.

i realize i feel tattered. one moment the figurative holes in my heart will still allow me to continue on – unencumbered by the accompanying pain. the next moment those same holes are debilitating. i feel lost and like a balloon slowly losing air, like it is all surreal.

she said, “remember…you have a limited vision. you do not see the good that is also happening…“. that which is separate from the devastating. that which is like the sliver of light that plays on the floor when you crack the door open.

no…it is hard to see the good when the horrible is so much bigger, when hideous is shooting holes in your heart.

on our way to walk in the woods – to have some semblance of peaceful air – we passed by many houses with the flag flying yesterday. one flag, in particular, was frayed and shabby.

it made me think about the american flag, its symbolism of freedom, pride, respect. i researched a bit further. “red symbolizes bravery and valor, white symbolizes purity and innocence, blue represents vigilance, perseverance, justice.” (pbs.org & usa.gov)

freedom. pride. respect. bravery. valor. purity. innocence. vigilance. perseverance. justice.

our flag – an emblem of our values as a nation. this election has made a farce of those values, of that very flag.

and when that flag is tattered – as it surely is right now: “the flag, when it is in such condition that it is no longer a fitting emblem for display, should be destroyed in a dignified way…” (u.s. flag code)

no longer a fitting emblem.

that the majority of flag-flying voters have chosen to destroy all those values in the unparalleled cruel and undignified manner that is looming in this country is unconscionable.

it’s not good enough for a tattered flag.

it’s definitely not good enough for this tattered country.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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

 

 


by 1 Comment

gutted. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

no air.

there has been little air in me these last days. like many of you – but clearly, not all of you – i feel gutted.

i, too, watched as this nation elected what it elected. and, like you, we all know what that means, voting in cruelty, burying compassion, damning moving forward and any what-could-have-been’s.

someone dear to me texted me on election day, writing: “and the thing is, people will never not know who they [others] voted for and supported.”

exactly. we cannot un-know what you voted for.

as I quoted yesterday, you are who you elect. (michael ramirez – the washington post)

i woke up yesterday, my eyes still swollen – like yours – feeling strangled by the results of this election. it was as if color had escaped, as if texture had been jackhammered away, as if air was only to be found in shallow hyperventilated gulps. my children, i kept thinking, pondering their future, my daughter, my son.

there is much to do. and I don’t even know what that means right now.

we took a walk in the woods.

there was the simplicity of our footsteps – one foot in front of another – step, step, step. boiling it down. movement.

it was quiet but for rustling squirrels, blissfully unaware of the election, merely gathering for the fallow that will soon befall the forest.

there was beauty. inevitably. and, for a bit of time on our hike – the time when we weren’t spilling our grief on the path – i got just the tiniest bit lost in it.

i fear that things, that living – for the rest of my life – will never be the same again. that the darkness – darkness which people we all know have chosen – will engulf everything.

so i know that there is much to do, despite the utter grief and despair i feel right now. there is much to do to bring back the light.

this morning i woke when the sun was just coming up. dogga jumped on the bed as soon as he knew we were the slightest bit awake. we were quiet as the light began to stream into our room. we sipped coffee.

we will clean the house. we will go take a hike. we will attempt to breathe. we will be aware of beauty. we will study it – its astonishingness – and i will try to figure out how to bring it to this aching world any way i can.

and all the air will circulate ’round – the wind of next days and next days – filling our tired lungs, drying our eyes, helping us take one step after another, so that we can do the much that needs to be done.

*****

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY