reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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last i saw you. [k.s. friday]

last i saw you songbox

the last i saw him was not the last of this world being this world.  but it was the last moment my world was the same.  i wrote about this yesterday.  it’s all fragile.  like a soaring violin note bowed over a line of piano, it’s ephemeral.  it will vanish in the next moment.  we keep hearing the line in our heads; we keep hearing the cello passionately talking to us; we keep those we have never seen again close.

i wrote this piece to speak to the last time i saw my big brother.  i listen to it now and it is also about the last time i saw my sweet momma, my poppo, my uncle allen, my grandparents, my adored high-school-english-teacher andrea, my not-really-a-triplet-from-elementary-school-on-dear-friend kenny…  it’s about the last time i saw people i’ve loved forever.  it’s about holding on to shared moments with my living-far-away-children.  it’s about the last time – when i don’t know when the next time is.

LAST I SAW YOU is the gossamer strands of connection between us.  it’s how we hold that and honor that.  for me, just know it is a statement of enduring love.

download THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY on iTUNES or CDBaby

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

moon website box

LAST I SAW YOU from THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY ©️ 1998 kerri sherwood

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(y)our earth [two artists tuesday]

our earth FRAMED ART PRINT copy

leonard pitts jr. wrote an opinion column, a gorgeous essay on the moon that we read the other morning.  only it wasn’t really about the moon.   he references a short film (which we watched) by filmmakers wylie overstreet and alex gorosh called “a new view of the moon” where the two men “wandered around los angeles with a telescope…asking a cross section of passersby in a cross section of places…to put their eyes to the viewfinder and gaze upon what they’ve looked at a million times yet never seen.”  the two men found that people responded in the same way, awestruck, profoundly moved by the vision.  the short doesn’t feature the moon; it features the reactions of people as they gaze into the telescope.  leonard calls it “a hymn to our common humanity.”  a reminder that in all our differences we are the same…”we spend too much time looking down and across.”  we are, yes, tiny in the vastness – something i felt myself in writing about david’s painting FROM A DISTANCE that we chose for thursday’s melange.  “so each other is all we have.  but then, it should be all we need,” leonard writes.  our earth TOTE BAG copy

when i drew this simple graphic, i wanted to portray a uncomplicated thought.  an image unadorned with fancy-ness, but, hopefully, clear…or, at the very least, thought-provoking.  “your” earth with arrows upward, “your” earth with arrows that circle around, “our” earth with arrows that circle around, “earth” with arrows that circle around.

it is all a circle.  what we do counts.  how we help counts.  how we help our earth.  how we help each other.

our earth SQ PILLOW copy

our earth LEGGINGS copy

OUR EARTH MUG copy

OUR EARTH BEACH TOWEL copy

THIS IS (Y)OUR EARTH – TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY – ON OUR SITE

THIS IS (Y)OUR EARTH – PRODUCTS ON SOCIETY6.COM/TWOARTISTS

read DAVID’S thoughts on this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

THIS IS (Y)OUR EARTH ©️ 2016 kerri sherwood & david robinson

melange button jpeg

kerrianddavid.com

 


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all that shimmers.

i walk downstairs to his studio often while he paints. i sit in one of the rocking chairs and watch or talk or sip coffee with him. and i fall in love. this happens again and again. it’s on “repeat” – this falling-in-love-with-a-work-on-the-wall. something jumps out at me or gently reaches out and shimmers its way to my heart and i am forever connected. and i say, “you can’t sell this one!”

IMG_0028

he can’t sell this one.  my heart is ever-connected to it.

now, of course, for someone who makes a living as an artist, eliminating pieces from the mix of those available for sale can be somewhat exasperatingly limiting. but sometimes a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. and sometimes, when he paints, i want to keep it. (actually, that happens often, so i should get credit for not always acting on my heart-impulse.)

we were at ukulele band rehearsal a few nights ago. i had my phone out because i had forgotten to bring a AA battery for the clock on the wall and so i needed my phone handy for timing. my uke band does not want to go overtime, unless the patio and wine are involved. suddenly it dinged and there was a text message. and i needed to share with them…..at that moment david’s sister had texted that his great-niece, who was in labor, had begun “pushing”. in a short time there would be a new baby girl in the world. shimmering, indeed.

so many shimmering moments. sitting with dear friends around a potluck meal and laughing uncontrollably. the moment the boy calls to show you via facetime their new apartment. noticing the moon at night. a glass of wine by the chiminea. the first glimpse of color in the woods. IMG_0027seeing the girl in the flannel shirt you passed to her from your dad, her pa. a combed beach. IMG_3137tears of joy. holding hands in prayer. waking up pretzeled together. rich bass notes on my piano. a bite of a really good pear or a honey crisp apple. the dog and cat laying together. holding your child, tiny or grown. telling old stories. turning your head while driving the car to see your husband gazing at you. a first cup of morning coffee in bed. seeing the birds lined up at the bird feeder. listening to gabriel’s oboe.

it is sobering to think about all that is happening at any given moment, all over the world. our connection to all -through all the layers- makes it all ours. the good and the bad, the exquisite and the devastating. which should probably make us realize that any moments we are having that are particularly difficult are also shared by others. never alone. we are all in this together. this life thing.

david reminded me that at the book reading the other night author joyce maynard said, “it is my obligation to live!” it is. to find those shimmering moments. to let them shimmer. to not blunt them or try to put out the flash of fire they give us. the fire to keep stepping. through it all. all that shimmers and all that doesn’t.

itunes: kerri sherwood

www.kerrisherwood.com