reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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the cameras. [not-so-flawed wednesday]

cameras

1977.  graduation.  yashica fx-2.  my most-prized possession and my constant companion was the 35mm single lens reflex camera my momma and dad gave me when i graduated from high school.  it went everywhere with me and i made every reason to be out and about with it, capturing sunrises, sunsets, beaches, state parks, roadtrips, lighthouses, birds and other wildlife, my nieces and nephew.  i loved this camera and still have it, although i haven’t used it in years.  i learned about f-stops and aperture openings, film speed and depth of field – all with this camera.

somewhere along the way, automatic cameras began to reign supreme and i joined the ranks with a minolta that made taking pictures of My Girl and My Boy easier, faster, somewhat brainless.  as they were little and moments passed in lightning speed, this camera made moment-seizing more possible, although one still had to wait till the film was developed to see if you were successful.  sometimes it was the blurry photo, the funny face, the i-wasn’t-trying-to-get-that-picture photograph that are the prizes.  they are the ones we couldn’t erase, delete, photoshop, filter.  they were what they were.

i remember roll after roll, walking in to rode’s camera shop and taking advantage of their double-print deal, always sending photographs to grandparents, family and friends who were afar.  having sorted through every one of the prints in recent years, i can honestly say that i have literally thousands of photographs of my children when they were growing up.  perhaps this is the reason they roll their eyes at me now when i want to take pictures of them?

i can’t help but think of what i might have captured on film had digital cameras or cellphones with the exquisite-cameras-of-today been around back then.  video without having a gigantic vcr camcorder on your shoulder or even a smaller, still cumbersome 8mm camera, instant photos that you can preview and take over, every photo or image or video ‘fixable’, ‘changeable’, ‘alterable’.

i have to say i am a little envious of the ability of parents today who are able to document their children, their travels, their, well, every move, not to even begin to mention selfies, and instantly facebook-post it, email it, text it, snapchat it, instagram it, tweet it, snapfish or shutterfly-book-it, sharing it with the world.  it’s so simple.  their documentation will be so much more complete, the phone-camera a constant companion with no real added burden of weight or case or extra lenses or film or a flash.  the rise and ease of amazing technology.

it was with a sense of uh-oh-we-really-are-getting-olderrrrr that we happened upon the display of cameras and movie cameras in the antique shoppe.  i wanted to pick each one up, look through the viewfinder, compose a photo or two.  i was instantly transported back to crabmeadow beach with susan, climbing the fence to snag a few sunrise pictures.  i was in the boat with crunch, cruising long island sound lighthouse to lighthouse.  i was on the floor with my babies, catching their moments.

there was something magical about waiting for that old film to develop.  something that made it sometimes easier to put the camera, the device, away.  something that made it paramount to memorize -for your very own mind’s eye- the most precious of events, the most intimate details, the agonizingly briefest purity of a perfect moment in time.

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

savannah selfie WEBSITE BOX


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the polar antonym of hip. [two artists tuesday]

polar antonym

i would like to start with synonyms:

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and now some antonyms:

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ick.  i would much rather be thought of as “swell” than “moth-eaten” or “chic” rather than “dowdy”.  good grief.  this is full of possibilities for an emotional breakdown, an inferiority complex in the mixing bowl.

in the show schitt’s creek, moira (the ever-present, loving and compassionate mom -NOT-) is speaking to the dad (equally as despicable in his own right.)  she states that to their children they are “the polar antonym of hip”.

hmm.  is this not a defining characteristic of parenthood?  we simply cannot be hip like them.  we are not them.  our children have different hip-ness than we do; our children are swell – and will be swell – in different ways than we have ever been.

i hardly think that the well-practiced eyerolls that my daughter has given me (in my view or from a thousand miles away) are because she thinks i am “modish”.  nor do i think the radio silence in-between my equally sweet love-professing text messages to my son are because he is thinking, “wow!  my mom is supercool!”  it is part of their job to think we are un-hip.  it is part of their journey in life to think we are “antediluvian”.

it IS the circle of life.  forget rafiki and mufasa and the lions and all.  the circle of life is the circle of hipness.  you are hip until you are no longer hip.  the line is foggy and you will not be notified until it is too late.  there is no expiration date or deadline for payment.  it just happens.  the crease between your eyebrows is deep and the waistline on your jeans slowly creeps up from your hips.  un-hip.

but such is life, as my sweet momma would say.  maybe it’s time to embrace being ‘the polar antonym of hip’.

i will not be whipping out the credit card to try and stay ahead of it.  ‘hip’ is untenable.  the silky threads trailing behind it escape grasp.  my boots and flipflops and black shirts will have to be my new ‘hip’.  my philosophy of less-is-more will have to be my new ‘hip’.  driving big red and littlebabyscionwithhundredsofthousandsofmiles will have to be my new ‘hip’.  listening to john denver and james taylor and carole king will have to be my new ‘hip’.  trying to keep being an honest artist in this world of machinated stuff will have to be my new ‘hip’.  and my jeans, sitting sort of on my hips, will have to be my new ‘hip’.

and i will hope-against-hope that maybe, just maybe, my children will think, “wow!  mom’s pretty hip.”  (only even the word ‘hip’ isn’t ‘hip’.)

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

kdkc feet website box

 


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free is not free. [flawed wednesday]

FREE2-4yearOlds

i went back. we had passed this on the street while taking a walk. when it registered a moment or two after we passed it, i had to go back.  out of context, it made me laugh aloud.  i showed it to jen and she and i both decided on a 3 year old.  i mean, it’s a FREE 3 year old!!!!

now….everyone knows THAT’S just not true.  i think wryly about the lifestyle difference between people i know who have never had children and people i know who have had 2-4 olds (who grow up into snack-devouring-soccer-playing-music-lesson-taking 8 year olds who grow up into gatorade-guzzling-granola-bar-munching-tennis-playing-nike-sneaker-loving-makeup-wearing-hair-dying teenagers who grow up into university-tuition-paying-care-package-receiving-ramen-noodle-eating-dorm-room-paraphernalia-moving-apartment-sharing-car-driving college students who grow up into….. )

you get the picture.  free is not free.

but i can’t think of anything more priceless.

 

read DAVID’S thoughts on this FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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time together. [k.s. friday]

time together song box

the air coming through the windows this morning felt cool.  almost chilly.  it has been a long while since the last time i could say that of a morning here.  we have had a very hot, very humid summer…not my favorite combination.  but today.  it was different.  and it made me feel immediately homesick.  that happens every fall for me.  maybe it’s a melancholy recognition of the passing of time, years zooming by.  maybe it’s the season-change-thing…we know grey days are lurking right around the corner.  either way, i feel homesick.

it’s a time when i miss long island the most, recall my growing-up years, pine for the autumn at millneck manor and long deserted-beach walks at crab meadow.  a time when my sweet momma and poppo are really present for me in their absence, if that makes sense.  i yearn to talk to them.  a time when The Girl and The Boy seem oh-so-grown-up now, steeped in their own adult-lives, having adventures and being a dynamic part of this world, far away, without the benefit of hearing ‘good night moon’ every night.  i know that every evening they roll their eyes at my goodnight texts to them, but i figure that someday they will understand.  homesick.

yesterday was my father-in-law’s 85th birthday.  we called columbus and sang ‘happy birthday’ to him.  my momma and daddy did that every year for me and i try to carry on the tradition with the people i love.  he laughed and told us he had gotten back from dinner at texas roadhouse and was listening to an old record.  he listens to old records a lot.  i suspect, because he is the man he is, that he gets homesick.  i can tell by his eyes that he would totally understand me if i told him how i felt.

so today, if you are spending time together with someone, memorize it.  if you are lucky enough to spend time with your momma or your daddy, please hug them.  if you are one of the fortunate parents who have their children nearby, hold on just a little tighter and look into their faces when you say goodnight.  relish it.

there is nothing like it.

time together.

 

download TIME TOGETHER track 3 from THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY on iTUNES or CDBaby or PURCHASE the ALBUM

read DAVID’S thoughts on this K.S. FRIDAY

K.S. FRIDAY – ON OUR WEBSITE

FALL50%OFFSALE copy

TIME TOGETHER from THIS PART OF THE JOURNEY ©️ 1997, 2000 kerri sherwood


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shared fatherhood II: close. [d.r. thursday]

MASTERshared fatherhood II close up copy

sharedfatherhoodII close product BOX copy

the image is strikingly beautiful.  two men tenderly holding their baby.  shared fatherhood.  for me, personally, as i have written about before , a hopeful vision of The Boy someday…

but the words “shared fatherhood” makes me also think of people who have been in the lives of my children.  in addition to their father, there have been others in their lives who have had impact.  i distinctly remember The Boy recalling the day my dad – his Pa – made him respectfully remove his hat at the table; no bones about it…lessons.  and i remember the generous message he wrote for my dad’s funeral service.  i know there is an unbreakable connection The Girl has to her Pa, the man she bought a sweatshirt (that he adored) which read “smart-ass university”.  their paternal grandpa was a sweet sweet man as well, and i know there is take-away from their relationship with him.  but when you sort out further – the concentric circles in their lives outside of family – that’s when i must also express gratitude for other people who shared in “fathering” them.  their high school band directors,  the marketing teacher, tennis and other coaches, private music instructors, talented men who cared deeply about them.  even more, they were there for them.  in past years i knew that i could count on them for support, for demonstrating what was good, for the love they showered on them.

we walk through life, sometimes unaware of the impact we are having on others.  perhaps we need a moment or two to stop and think about all of those people who have contributed to our growth, who have shared in our lives, who have “mothered” or “fathered” us regardless of whether there was a biological connection or not.

father’s day – another day to recognize that we are, indeed, all one family.  better together.

SharedFatherhood2 copy 2

shared fatherhood II, mixed media on panel 25.25″ x 40.25″

click here (or on product box above) for SHARED FATHERHOOD II: CLOSE. products

click here (or on full painting just above) to view or purchase the original

D.R. THURSDAY (DAVID ROBINSON THURSDAY) – ON OUR SITE

read DAVID’S thoughts about this D.R. THURSDAY

shared fatherhood II: close. painting & products ©️ 2017 & 2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood

 

 


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play together! [chicken marsala monday]

sometimesyouhavetobeapirate WITH EYES jpeg copy 2we have no problem playing.  take our sweet boy chicken marsala, for example.  you may remember this.  chicken was born when we were taking a roadtrip.  we had been driving for about 12 hours or so and were talking about what we would have named a child, had we had one together.  we laughingly agreed on “chicken”….”chicken marsala.”  don’t ask us why; neither of us has the answer.  maybe it was road delirium.  regardless, chicken has stayed with us since then.  we even carried a flat-chicken across the country a couple years ago, taking pictures of him with rest area personnel, at points of interest and with various family members.  we joke about chicken and me cantering in the fields and d uses his “chicken marsala voice”, making us go into fits of hilarity.

no matter the age, no matter the relationship – parent/child, brother/sister, husband/wife, boyfriend/boyfriend, girlfriend/girlfriend – playing adds moments of immeasurable treasure.

if you'd like to see more CHICKEN...

CHICKEN MARSALA MONDAY – ON OUR SITE

read DAVID’S thoughts about this CHICKEN NUGGET

sometimes you have to be a pirate to know where your treasure is ©️ 2016 david robinson & kerri sherwood


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the doorway in [dr thursday]

the doorway in SQ PILLOW copy

www.kerrianddavid.com/the-melange

david’s painting SHARED FATHERHOOD makes me weep.  it is a powerful painting of two fathers tenderly and humbly holding their baby.  it is love in a pure form.  it makes me think of my son, The Boy.  i can see him in this painting and the possibility of him choosing one day to share fatherhood.

SharedFatherhood.10.17 copy 2

SHARED FATHERHOOD, mixed media 39.5″ x 51″

in the very corner of this painting is the morsel i chose for today.  a doorway.  or is it a window?  either way, it struck me as a morsel image, especially in the context of this painting.

the doorway FRAMED ART copyso many figurative doorways/windows, so little time….  is it a doorway into acceptance?  into inclusion?  into openness?  into home?

we sat this morning, over early coffee, and talked about our perception of ourselves.  how we can’t see that we exhibit the very things we tout we aren’t.  or, conversely, how we aren’t (in whole) the things that we tout we are.  how scary is that?  it’s human.  we ponder and perseverate over the things we believe.  and we realize in moments of self-judgement that, yet again, we have a view of ourselves that is perhaps somewhat inconsistent with who we are.  that goes both ways, however.  the times we believe we are not enough, we are incomplete, we don’t measure up – those times are also inconsistent with who we are.the doorway in LEGGINGS copy

the doorway in – to acceptance of where we are, what we have been through, where we are going – to learning more – to growing – to knowing we are held in grace – to forgiveness of others and ourselves – to trying again tomorrow – to home, a place of as much gratitude and peace we can muster and then even more – this is a doorway/window in to shared fatherhood (read:  parenthood) of the world, where each of us is responsible to do our best, bring our best, try our best.

THE DOORWAY IN – DR THURSDAY (DAVID ROBINSON THURSDAY) ON OUR SITE

THE DOORWAY IN PRODUCTS: wall art, throw pillows, beach towels, leggings, cards…

the doorway in TOTE BAG copy

the doorway in BEACH TOWEL copy

the doorway in FLOOR PILLOW copy

the doorway in MUG copy

read DAVID’S thoughts on THE DOORWAY IN

click here to visit DAVID’S painting – SHARED FATHERHOOD

melange button jpeg

kerrianddavid.com

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SHARED FATHERHOOD & THE DOORWAY IN ©️ 2017 & 2018 david robinson