reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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contrast principle. [two artists tuesday]

contrast principle

we are living the contrast principle.  the elementary-school-workbook-page-which-one-doesn’t-fit principle.  that can actually serve you well or it can be the bane of your existence.  i’ll allow you to decide which one you think it is for us.

we are not from here.  we do not have roots that go back a generation, two or three generations, seven generations.  we weren’t born here, nor have we been coming here for decades on vacation.  this is a new place for us.  we chose to come here.  and we came here out of great and positive intention.

when i first saw the ad for the position we ultimately accepted, we got excited and were instantly full of ideas and possibility.  with our backgrounds, our education, our professional experiences, it seemed a perfect fit.  with our artistry, our passion, our zeal, our energy, our ability to facilitate positive change, it seemed a perfect fit.  but that assumes a “fit” and it assumes trust and it assumes the best of the contrast principle.

we work to create relationship, to mend the crevasse between arts organizations and between groups of people, to structure and build community and let the arts rise.  we brainstorm and read and study – new initiatives, data of the past, stories of success and stories of failure.  we strive to re-commit each day, choosing to step past the rifts, past the dysfunction, past the you-don’t-belong-here-ness of it all.

because we did choose it.  we chose to be the daisy in the field of black-eyed-susans.  we chose to be the new in the old.  we chose the contrast principle.  it would just be nice for it to be a tad bit easier.

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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 the daisy in the black-eyed-susans © 2019 kerri sherwood & david robinson

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fly like an eagle. [two artists tuesday]

 

“fly like an eagle…to the sea. fly like an eagle; let my spirit carry me. i want to fly like an eagle till i’m free…” (steve miller band)

it’s not often i see something and don’t think of a song to go with it.  whether it is a pre-existing song or one i make up on a dime, i want to just break out into song, spontaneously. it’s a by-product of the trade.

the eagle that makes its way across our yard, zig-zagging across the bay, is no less inspiring.  depending on the day, i hear the steve miller band singing “fly like an eagle…to the sea” or john denver’s “i am an eagle, i live in high country…”

if a song doesn’t occur to me rising out of the recesses of my brain i’ll make one up.  ask jen and brad about ‘the butterfly song’ or ‘sitting in the sun’ or ‘bigotry’, just for instances.  mary kay and i have had conversations about making up songs on the fly…in the car…in the shower….walking in the woods.  these are not – you might be surprised – serious compositions that may make the cut for the next album.  these are just meaningful-in-the-moment songs that you belt out and, mostly, promptly forget.

as the eagle passes over our heads, i am amazed to see it in ‘real life’.  i pause and steve miller fights with john denver for attention in my head.  i hush them both and just listen to the waves and the silence of this majestic creature catching the wind.

“…and reach for the heavens and hope for the future, and all that we can be is not what we are…” (john denver)

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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play. [two artists tuesday]

hand shadow.jpg

we sat on schoolhouse beach, in the middle of the (figurative) storm around us, and made shadow puppets.  giggling, we fell back on the rocks, the healing beginning.

when i think back over the last decade or so, i am struck by how many things my menopausal brain can’t remember.  even though today, in a little shop, abba’s song Fernando came on and i sang along to every word, the last time i heard this song maybe 4 or 5 years ago….maybe, but i can’t recollect.

the things i remember over the years are the things that stood out.  moments of despair, of loss.  moments of confusion, of great pain as i sorted them out.  times of many tears.  times my stomach and the sides of my face hurt from laughing so hard.  times of hard work.  even more importantly, times of play.  ralph waldo emerson said, “it is a happy talent to know how to play.”

even in the midst of everything else, we must remember to play.  for that will carry us far.  further than grief will.  further than withstanding searing pain.  further than the sobs that make you lay on the kitchen floor.  further than hard work.

for in play comes laughter.  and in laughter, the release of great love.  love is everlasting.  it is patient and kind.  it does not envy or boast.  it is not proud.  it does not dishonor others nor is it self-seeking.  it is not easily angered and keeps no record of wrongs.  love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.  it protects, trusts, hopes, perseveres.  love never fails.(I Corinthians 13)

so.  play.  and love.  together, those -in the rest of life-  will endure anything.

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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small gestures. [two artists tuesday]

small gestures.jpg

the first time that i walked into the bathroom and saw my toothbrush pre-toothpasted for me i was surprised and floored.  no one (except my sweet momma) had ever pre-toothpasted my toothbrush for me before.  a small gesture, but i was deeply touched by this kindness.  i was off-island without d a few days last week and three times (!) i pre-toothpasted his home toothbrush as well as mine, without thinking.   small gestures become kind habits.

it’s the little things that count.  not the grandiose presents or sweeping plans.  it is the kiss on the back of your head, the carrying of your bags, the holding of your hand, the packed lunch, the note on the piano, the bacon on sunday, the coffee while your head is still on your pillow, the opening of a door for you, listening through the umpteenth repetition, the patiently-waiting while you scurry about finishing just-one-more-thing, the tetris-packing of the car, the prepping of dinner ingredients, the hug when you didn’t even know you needed one, the quiet support and noisier praise, the questions you don’t want to answer, the reminder of the breath you need to take…

and the toothpaste pre-pasted on your toothbrush.  small gestures.  kind habits.  love.

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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island prayer flags. [two artists tuesday]

prayer flags 1.jpg

 

on march 19 of this year i wrote about our prayer flags.  the ones at our home, i cherish their presence as they flutter in our backyard breezes.  the prayer flags in this post are at our littlehouse on island.  they stretch between a tree and a covered wooden rocking loveseat that plants itself firmly gazing at the lake.  my sweet girl got me these as a gift, from the same little shop in ridgway, colorado that our home-prayer-flags come from.

the lake breeze is stronger than the breezes in our backyard; sometimes the flags are horizontal in its fury.  the threads are loosening, loosening; the prayers are flying, flying.  these little prayer flags are already more quickly tattered than the ones we have at our home.  prayers for peace, compassion, strength and wisdom are perhaps more zealous these days, perhaps more often, perhaps more imploring.

at the end of this season we will gently take our prayer flags down and wrap them in soft cloth or tissue.  we will thank them and put them in our special box to bring home with us.  perhaps they will then hang with the flags-in-the-backyard.  or perhaps, after a time of flying and more reassurance than i can explain, they will rest.  we will see.

“we pass under them every time we leave the house and every time we return.  our prayer flags fly between the house and the garage…a welcome sight either way.  although better given to you as a gift, we purchased our flags in a little shop in ridgway, colorado and i consider it a gift that we were able to spend time in that tiny mountain town in the san juan mountains.  these flags represent that place to us, that time, and so much more.

each color is symbolic of an element…white is air and wind, blue is sky and space, green symbolizes water, red is fire and yellow is earth.  flying these in a specific order produces a balance of health and harmony.  flying these promotes peace, compassion, strength and wisdom; the wind blows the prayers into the universe.  i cannot think of  more visual evidence of constant prayer.  it matters not to me what religious practice is associated with them.  the prayers are so much bigger than that.  everything is bigger than that.

every time we watch any depiction of an everest story, there are multitudes of these buddhist prayer flags.  they grace base camp and the summit and each camp between,  the prayers issued by those people seeking to reach the highest place on earth.

we can’t claim trying to reach the highest physical place on earth.  but we can claim seeking peace, compassion, strength and wisdom, a balance of health and harmony.  for me, for us, those things are the highest place on earth.” (march 19, 2019)

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click here to browse or purchase ISLAND PRAYER FLAGS as wall art

island prayer flags - the five elements

click here to browse or purchase ISLAND PRAYER FLAGS – THE FIVE ELEMENTS as wall art

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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island prayer flags photograph ©️ 2019 kerri sherwood & david robinson


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i don’t understand. [two artists tuesday]

canoe and dock

ahhh.  early morning.  it is sunday and we are writing a couple days ahead for a busy week.

as i sit here, in this beautiful “idyllic” place, i hear the rapid fire of gunshots.  i google, looking for a shooting range i have heard about, but to no avail.  sunday morning.  a time of reflection and peace.  and, apparently, gunfire.  i don’t understand.

a couple nights ago i woke up and could hear the sound of two men talking.  we rarely hear people talking here, at any time of day or night.  i didn’t know where they were, and i couldn’t understand what they were saying, but the last thing i heard was a gunshot.  nothing else.  why, on earth, would someone be shooting anything in the middle of the night?  i’ve been told that there is poaching and shining and that hunting is a big part of this place.  hunting what?  what season is this?  are people’s kitchen tables truly dependent on this?  there’s a grocery store.  i don’t understand.

this week, just one week, as you know, our country suffered four times at the hands of someone who chose to brutally end the lives of others.  intentionally.  with assault weapons.  my heart breaks.  again.  and i don’t understand.

it appears that we are on a path of self-destruction.  a garlic festival, shopping at walmart, enjoying a saturday evening downtown in a small city…these are normal activities.  these are opportunities for human beings – like you and me – to do the stuff of life or to gather together.  partners, families, children, friends.  people we know, people we do not know, all breathing in and breathing out just like we do.  life-doing and gathering together should not include terror.  it shouldn’t even include fear.  i don’t understand.

where are we headed?  will we continue to perpetuate hatred?  will we continue to feed division?  will we continue to kowtow to big money, to the needs of a few instead of the needs of many?  will we care?  will we continue to taunt and bully and fight?  will we continue to kill each other?  i don’t understand.

as i sit on the dock of the bay, looking at the horizon blending with the sky, one little tiny being in a vast universe, i just don’t understand.

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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on the dock of the bay ©️ 2019 kerri sherwood & david robinson


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gaze south. [two artists tuesday]

dogdog pondering copy.jpg

dogdog sits at the edge of the lake and gazes south.  i wonder what he is pondering. south is where home-home is.  south is where his backyard is, where he runs in gleeful circles when the dachshunds next door are out in their yard.  south is where he goes on extended errands in the scion, where unka john comes over, where the upstairs gives babycat space from him and for him.  south is where he barks and rules the domain that is clearly his.

i wonder what he is thinking.  is he wondering what it all means?  is he curious about when he will be home-home next?  is he wondering where we are now?  does he like this location, full of wildlife he hasn’t seen before?  does he like the smaller space, putting us four all together more?  does he like the treat he and babycat get every time we arrive home, the “mom-and-dad-are-home-treat”?  does he like to fall into dreams at “sleepynightnight” time in his familiar crate in a mostly unfamiliar place, next to our bed as usual?

babycat was slower to adjust.  his adjustment came under the bed in the middle room, as he sorted through his “where-the-heck-are-we-and-did-anyone-ask-me-if-i-wanted-to-come?”  eventually he came out from under the bed and started finding that, yes indeedy, there is a bed with the quilt he recognizes that he can sleep on.  and yes, indeedy, “they” brought my favorite toy, the turbo-scratcher-round-circle-chasing-ball toy.  and yes, indeedy, it’s a different food bowl, but it’s the same food.  he has discovered that he can sit by the french door to the deck and watch seagulls and ducks and geese and bald eagles flying past and above.  it’s work but someone has to do it, and babycat is all-in.  yes, all is seemingly well in babycat land now.

adjustments are a bit easier when your unicorn toy and bones and treats and chasing-toy and leash and kibble are there, are the same.

i, too, have sat on the edge of the lake and gazed south.

read DAVID’S thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

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