reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


Leave a comment

i cleared the path for you. [merely-a-thought monday]

cleared the path bridge copy

there have been times when a clear path would have been my choice.  something that was predictable, “normal”, serene.  a path upon which i wouldn’t have to ask a lot of questions about direction.  sense-making would be easy; “right” choices would be obvious.

how many times have i hoped for a sticky note to float down from the heavens above, simple instructions listed like on an ikea bookshelf leaflet.  how many times have i wondered about how to forge through the muddy waters, how to get where i can see but not touch.  a clear path seems maybe too much to ask.  we seek mentors to aid us, to ask tough, blunt questions. expecting candid answers, they help us see.  perhaps we would miss too many lessons – or just too much – along the way were we to have a clear path.  there is no “normal”.

the elderly hiker in the woods approached from the opposite direction.  his hat pulled down over his forehead and his jacket zipped up keeping him warm along the trail, he smiled, inviting a response, and said, “i cleared the path for you.  it’s all clear.”

we laughed and thanked him, but i know we both wished he meant it literally.  in a life sense.

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

muddy boots blue website box

 

 

 

Advertisements


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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Leave a comment

bridge. [k.s. friday]

bridge song box copy

“when one door closes another door opens.”  how many times have you heard that?  people fail to address the hallway in-between.  ahh….that hallway in between.  full of mystery.  full of questions.  full of wondering.  full of not-knowing.  it can be freeing; it can be torturous.  bridging from now to next.

two to three months after my big brother died, my sweet momma continued to have nights when she could not sleep.  she would rise from bed and go down the short hall to the bedroom that served as her office.  in that short walk, she would pass the entrance to the living room.  one night, as she passed the living room, glancing in she saw a depression in the very top of the recliner, the way it looks when someone is sitting with their head against the back of the chair.  this chair…the very one that my brother sat in so many times in the last months of his life, close to the front door so that he didn’t have to go too far and become too tired.

my momma, not given to fanciful imaginings, decided to walk into the living room to find out why the headrest of this chair gave the appearance of someone in it.  she came around to the front of the chair and found my brother.  he was sleeping in the chair and did not stir while she stood there.  she never said a word, just silently watched for a couple of minutes.  her heart full, she quietly walked to her office.  an hour or so later, when she was ready for bed, she walked back down the short hall, this time glancing in to the living room to see if the headrest was still shaped as it had been, if my brother was still there.  the recliner had returned to its normal state.  my brother was no longer there.  she went to bed and slept, her time in the hall of grief a little lighter, a little less encumbered, a little less painful.  mysterious, full of questions, full of wondering and not-knowing.  freeing and a little torturous.  but moving into next.

download the album AS IT IS on iTunes or CDBaby

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

bike trail stream website box

BRIDGE from AS IT IS ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood

 


Leave a comment

no one can really tell us. [d.r. thursday]

no one can tell us copy

NO ONE CAN TELL US mixed media 24″ x 32″

“…no one can tell us because life is not something which can be understood from a book…” (krishnamurti)

when my big brother died almost 27 years ago, my world tilted, never to return to the same again.  i struggled to understand that this amazingly smart, talented, witty man – someone i depended on my whole life – was no longer going to be in this world.  losing him left me with a lot of questions.

ever since then i have not been able to wrap my head around how the world keeps going if you cannot feel it anymore.  and yet, each loss i have experienced is evidence that is exactly what happens.  the world keeps going. it’s all a mystery.  no one can really tell us.

there is no handbook available to explain all this.  life’s complicated layers and sideroads, the junctures where we choose left or right, the places we decide to stop or go…it’s all a mystery.  no one can really tell us.

nearly every day there is some world-tilting reminder to wholeheartedly embrace the moment you are in; nearly every day we forget.  it’s not as easy as just remembering.  it’s not easily understood.  your shoes are not my shoes and, although it is easy for me to sense all the concurrent emotions in a room, i still cannot grasp what you are actually going through.  my sun could be your rain.  it’s all a mystery.  no one can really tell us.

so we try.  we try to understand, without instruction, the strands and tattered fragments and shiny-mica-bits that weave together into life.  mostly, we keep feeling life.  and the world keeps going.

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

to view NO ONE CAN TELL US on DAVID’s gallery site, click here

snowpath in bristolwoods website box

NO ONE CAN TELL US ©️ 2015 david robinson & kerri sherwood

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


Leave a comment

untitled interlude. [k.s. friday]

untitledinterlude songbox.jpg

“…sometimes you just need some space in between.  a few moments to think.” (liner notes)

screen shot 2019-01-10 at 9.32.38 am

time to sort, to ponder.  a breath.  in music, it’s used in between verses and choruses, a time for an instrumental, a time for a pause in lyrics, a pause for thought.

right now feels like an interlude.  space that is falling between the verses, it’s quieter with more pondering.  it’s a time of figuring out, a time of ‘what’s next?’  not every interlude is comfortable, but that space in a piece of music, in life, is a time that can be rich.

as mozart said, “the music is not in the notes but in the silence in between.”

 

download on iTUNES or purchase the physical CD

read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

bong trail, wisconsin website box copy

UNTITLED INTERLUDE from RELEASED FROM THE HEART ©️ 1995 kerri sherwood

 


Leave a comment

watershed. [k.s. friday]

WATERSHED SONG BOX copy.jpg

watershed definition

i can feel it.  it’s not something i can put words to.  it’s mysterious and undefinable.  but it’s coming.  there is a turning point.  right around the corner.

i walk into this new year and there’s something different…there is an underlying vibration i can feel – viscerally – a pulse, a quivering – that is present.

when it was time to pick a piece of my music for this week’s studio melange, i was drawn to this one….full of angst and wonder and sedimentary layers and mica and minor…..full of questions.

2019.  it has been nine years since i recorded a full-length album of any sort and seventeen years since a full-length vocal.  is it time?  to record?  to let it go?

i can feel it.  it’s not something i can put words to.  it’s mysterious and undefinable.  but it’s coming.  there is a turning point.  right around the corner.

a watershed.

download AS IT IS on iTUNES or on CDBaby.com

read DAVID’S thoughts on WATERSHED

megaphones website box

WATERSHED from AS IT IS ©️ 2004 kerri sherwood


Leave a comment

figure it out. [k.s. friday]

figure it out songbox.jpg

in all the chicken-scratch-notes i have about this piece of music, i have written in the presence of a heartbeat.  the pulse that spans the entire 6 minutes 14 seconds, this heartbeat starts the piece. it is throughout the piece.  it ends the piece.  it is no accident that this composition seems interminable, ever returning to the theme; figuring “it” out often seems that way, a curse of perseverating analysis paralysis, depending on what “it” is.

i just erased what i had next written about this.  i couldn’t help but talk about my repeated use of a rising leading tone gesture in the theme, f# to g, f# to g, off the beaten major root path, but instead the path of starting on my ever-loved ninth in the e minor key, a key that resonates so often with people.  then i thought, “blahblahblah!!” geeeesh.  that’s way too much information.  so i erased it.  (yes…there were even more details before i erased it!)

i composed this at a time that was laden with things to sort, to figure out, to resolve.  it is one of the longest pieces i have recorded.  there are moments you can hear the almost-there-ness of it, but, like life, it reverts back to the initial themes, the initial questions.  and then, punctuating it, from time to time, a firm melodic gesture (f#-g-f#-e) where you can hear the lyrics in your head, “figure it out.”  much easier said than done, eh?  but our hearts keep beating.

purchase the album RIGHT NOW or download FIGURE IT OUT on iTUNES or CDBaby

shadow des plaines river trailwebsite box copy

Screen Shot 2018-08-07 at 12.27.50 PM

FIGURE IT OUT from RIGHT NOW ©️ 2010 kerri sherwood