reverse threading

the path back is the path forward


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freshstart. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

they will come back to grind out the stump. the crew said it will likely be a few weeks before the grinders get around to it, but eventually they’ll come and remove the last vestiges of our sturdy old tree.

after that we can get on a list for a new tree, the cost partially underwritten by the city. there’s a list of tree varieties one might choose from, depending upon availability. we’ve printed the current list and have begun studying trees – like one studies refrigerators or washers and dryers when you need one – immersing in photographs and information and reviews.

when we are officially on the list we will request our tree; we are actually hoping – with all the space out front – we might be able to purchase two. we’ll see. and then, maybe in the fall (or next year?) it (or they) will be planted in our parkway and we will start a new relationship with our tree or trees. it will signal a new time, a new era. and, in the way that these things go, it will also mark time. a new tree for both of us in this time of daisy-pathing.

there is something about a fresh start, something inviting, even compelling. a chance to write new narrative, from a different starting gate.

i can feel it – that fresh start – peeking out from around the corner. it has showered me from time to time with its freeing grace. and when it does, it is euphoric, a buzz of sorts – intoxicating like dopamine. releasing all harm that has been tightly held – stored – a toxic i did not choose but which has stayed with me through all the silent times.

and i hope – against hope – that soon i will also be a new tree. soon, there will be a sapling i can nurture. soon, there will be new growth, new branches and leaves. soon, all manner of the old pain-inducing stump inside will be gone.

and our new maple – or honeylocust – or ginkgo – and i will freshstart together.

*****

HOLDING ON, LETTING GO ©️ 2010 kerri sherwood

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a heart. of course. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

just over a month later, the tree crew came back.

our treasured tree had been shorn but its main trunk and some branches remained after the city arborists cleaned it up post-storm that split and felled it.

now they were back.

i knew as soon as i saw the trucks pull up that this was the day. this was the day that i would say my final goodbye to this beautiful tree, the guardian of shade in our front yard, the stalwart maple next to our driveway’s apron. this was the day i would whisper – once again – “you didn’t do anything wrong. you did everything right,” to the tree that pre-dated our family here by at least four decades and still grew up with our children. this was the day i knew would be hard. last goodbyes are like that.

they showed up around 11 and, even with a lunch break, they were deft and efficient and the last big piece of sturdy trunk was lifted into the bed of the dump truck at 1:15. they raked and blew some of the sawdust off the driveway, got in their trucks and, before 2 or so, drove away.

when i brought them bottles of water i asked them, “do you guys get attached to trees, too?” they all said, “no” and i wonder if that’s because they aren’t thready or sentimental or if that’s because we are only talking about trees or if that’s because it is their livelihood to trim and take down trees. any way you look at it, they knew that i was really sad – and they were actually quite kind about it.

the guy on the lift had a giant chainsaw. there was one more big branch to remove from the trunk – a big branch whose upper branches they had already trimmed. this branch arced upward from the main trunk, up toward our house. it had been the branch responsible for shading our front garden, the branch that towered over much of the yard, that shielded the daylilies from too much sun, that held a bit of a flat space where it met the center trunk – a perch for weary critters. this was the branch on which the kids would grasp to try and swing up into the tree. this was the branch i saw the best when i rocked babies in the nursery and gazed out the window. this was the branch i looked out upon – in all seasons – from my studio – composing, practicing, answering the muse. this big branch was central – a sturdy, steadfast piece of a long-beloved tree.

the big claws swung around to hold this branch as the arborist began to cut through the dense maple. it took a surprisingly short time for the chainsaw to make its way through – and then the big branch let go of its tree and it swung freely, held by the claw.

and then you could see it.

right where the branch had met the trunk – right where the branch separated from the tree and the very last offshoot from this very old tree trunk was gone – was a heart.

of course.

*****

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a bit much. [kerri’s blog on flawed wednesday]

our daughter sent a text message which read, “i recommend not going outside today.”

the air quality indexes (indices) in our general area – stretching from milwaukee down to chicago – were off the charts. smoke from wildfires in northern minnesota and canada had arrived – on top of heat indexes (indices) well over 100 degrees. it was a bit much.

i could – now – go off about climate change denial, the denial of global warming, the denial that humans are responsible for the extreme weather pattern changes, the denial that sustainable energy is clean energy, the denial that wind, geothermal, water, solar power are all positive innovations that make a generative difference in caring for our mother earth.

i could – now – go off about those perpetuating the destruction that is caused by fossil fuels, propping up cohorts with unthinkably large investments in coal, gas and oil, stripping protected lands of protection to mine and drill and clear-cut, ignoring conservation efforts and wildlife habitats, unburdening the current administration from anything conscience-driven relative to the relationship between humanity and our mother earth.

our daughter lives in the high mountains of colorado where no matter which way you turn it is a stunning view. just standing still in this grand, glorious space makes you feel rejuvenated.

in last weeks, she, too, has been dealing with the intense hazards of fire and smoke. she is a healthy and strong young woman, adept at all manner of high-mountain-raging-whitewater-river-red-rock adventures and challenges. but in these past weeks, it made her sick to just be outside.

i cannot imagine what this means for wildlife. i cannot imagine what this means for health-compromised people. i cannot imagine what this means for older folks or small children, for infants. i cannot imagine what this means for the next generations on our mother earth.

it doesn’t take an expert to know that we must get proactive, that we must guard for the future, that we must push back on the absolutely irresponsible.

unless, of course, we don’t want to go outside anymore.

it’s all a bit much.

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this FLAWED WEDNESDAY

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dragon in the sky. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

three million acres is no small thing. three million acres that were protected. three million acres that were grand staircase-escalante and bears ears national monuments. three million acres now open for business.

gluttony is alive and well in this nation.

it’s absolutely sickening.

and the dragon in the sky roared – fire coming from its mouth. because “these remarkable curiosities [ ] have required all the cunning skill of nature thousands of years to prepare.” (the house committee on public lands – circa 1871)

and it brings me back to this, to which i have arrived before: reverence.

they have no reverence.

and today – a few days before you will read this – the land around the boundary waters is on fire. photographs depict enormous infernos. it is all burning up.

and in colorado – fossil-fuel-fueled-climate-change wildfire in beautiful forests and on mountains and racing across open land.

and alaska and utah and florida and the pacific northwest and the southwest and the northeast and…

and major flooding in missouri, in texas.

and the mid-atlantic east coast and the southeast and the northeast and…

and cyclospora making its way into the food and water of americans across the nation. no lettuce and no berries and no produce and…

and people – on their way to work – executed by government officials who – mistakenly – identified them as targets.

and war.

and insane announcements eliminating medical research.

and social programs.

and voting rights.

and the decimation of wildlife protections.

and military spending way, way, way over the top.

and public adoration of brutal authoritarian figures by this administration.

and heartless sycophants, a conscience-less cheering squad, a team dedicated to the destruction of democracy.

and all manner of evil intentions.

no wonder there is a dragon in the sky. i can’t imagine how pissed the universe is.

*****

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in a bubble? [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

“living your life in a bubble will give you the illusion that everything is ok.”

i know this is true. i know that – even though we are not members of the fiscally-elite, the upwardly-mobile, the investment-heavy, on the supposedly-can’t-be-touched rung of the caste ladder – we still live in a bubble. because we are white. because we were born to citizens of this nation and are – clearly – citizens ourselves. because we – even in the mediocre middle-ish of middle-class where we plop our pins of existence – are privileged. we – even with the challenges we face – in terms of income, healthcare and living expenses, loans of whatever sort we all need, the ability to get and consume food and water and a safe place to live – we are fortunate.

we are aware. and we are grateful. there is not a day that goes by that we don’t look at each other and – truly – say how very lucky we are.

and, yet, in that awareness we know that everything is not ok.

the membrane of whatever bubble in which we might reside is permeable. we participate in the gleaning of information, the parsing out of truth, the speaking-up against bigotry and extremism, the knowledge that these are dangerous times. we cannot linger within a bubble that allows us to flit from one day to another sans worry.

to walk in a world where you won’t talk about what is actually happening, where you won’t discuss corruption or the decimation of our nation, where you won’t “go there” as we have heard from those unwilling to, well, go there – feels as if there is an illusion that everything is just fine, that one feels untouchable, that someone else’s pain is not yours, that empathy is no longer in vogue.

it is disturbing that in order to reclaim our country we need all talk and join together and yet there are so many who just choose to linger in their bubbles, flitting about doing “normal” life – at a time when nothing is actually “normal” or, worse yet, floating in an echo chamber of propaganda – like a pod unto itself.

the bubble wand is one of those instantly recognizable things. it immediately conjures up images of iridescent bubbles floating mid-air, powered by nearby breezes. it is a visceral memory of childhood – ours, our children’s. a happy thought.

bubbles go hand in hand with unicorns and magical sunrises, joyous icons of life.

but bubbles pop. and unicorns don’t exist. and the sun draping the sky with the colors of rising doesn’t last beyond dawn. and reality is reality.

we are all in this…this world. everything is not ok.

lest we get lost in the illusion – and are therefore surprised at the cruelty, the destruction, the demolition of things good and natural and constitutional and humane – we need to be open to the truth of it all, to not be deluded, to not place stake in a mirage or a floating effervescent air globule.

everything is not ok. can we please address this honestly?

*****

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opportunistic foragers. [kerri’s blog on k.s. friday]

we are equal grape jelly opportunity suppliers (egjos, for those of you who like acronyms). though our dedication to grape jelly is – supposedly – for the orioles and house finches, house sparrows and hungry potbellied squirrels are enthusiastic fans. and i mean, who can blame them? they are opportunistic foragers so all’s fair game.

we personally don’t have an issue with sparrows and squirrels eating jelly. we just clean the vessel and refill it as needed. watching from the deck or the patio is a joy and those squirrels – well – they are sooo entertaining with antics that challenge world-class acrobats (all while they are also always keeping an eye out for dogga).

opportunistic foragers take what they can get. if welch’s is on the table, then welch’s it is.

in the last few days, few months, couple of years, we have read numerous articles about the government of this nation – you know, the government of the people, by the people, for the people – eliminating all kinds of regulations that protect the people, protect the people’s land, protect the people’s food, protect the people’s water, protect the people’s healthcare, protect the people’s education, protect the people’s social programs, protect the people’s rights, protect the people’s vote, protect the natural resources and wildlife that is part of the land of the people. and why is that? because – in an innocent google – i came across a term that describes them in a polite way: they are opportunistic foragers. they will take whatever upon which they can get their greedy paws.

“…politicians are widely characterized as opportunistic foragers who navigate their environments by adjusting policies, rhetoric, and alliances to maximize power and secure reelection.” (ai)

not cute like pudgy squirrels or innocent like house sparrows, they are robbing our grape jelly and absolutely everything else we-the-people value. the corruption is rampant, the conscience is absent, the constitutional cornerstone of this country is ripping.

and they keep on foraging.

*****

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tabouli party. [kerri’s blog on d.r. thursday]

in dramatically exciting news, this has been the week of tabouli. with heat indexes off the charts, it’s a refreshing change of pace.

it’s only mid-july and already our little potting stand garden is rocking. we have sooo much mint, a wild burst of chives and some curly parsley (our flat parsley has been the incredible-shrinking parsley – which must be because it’s on the preferred diet choices of our local squirrels.) the first batch of jalapeños are ready to harvest, many of the cherry tomatoes are orange-ing up, the basil is happily basil-ing along.

in an effort to use the herbs of which we have plenty, it brought to mind our quinoa tabouli – which uses the harvest we already have at our fingertips.

in these days of sickly sticky parasites invading the fruits and vegetables of these united states it feels extra good to have just gone a few steps outside to clip off what i needed for this fresh salad. it is a weird world with way too many things to worry about.

pasta with basil, homemade pizza margherita, jalapeño poppers, pesto, mint and lemon suntea that basked on the deck…and soon…more of our own cherry tomatoes for everything under the sun…the recipes line up in wait.

our adirondack chairs adjacent to our little burgeoning herbandveggie garden, we sat outside – after dinner – after sunset – while the fireflies danced through the backyard – and talked. our tiki-type torches lit, dogga conked out on the deck, we reviewed yet another strange set of days – strange in an insane number of ways. we wondered – yet again – what we can do.

we are beyond saddened by the schisms that deepen with every single corrupt thing that is reported (leaving us to truly ponder what is too opaque – too silenced – too hidden – to be reported, even by hardworking alternative media sources.)

and yet we know – even with our intense sadness – that there is no going back. anyone who thinks that all this is acceptable in any way – including what seems too easy to avoid – the new veggiefruit parasites running rampant because of this administration’s gluttonous greed and incompetence – is lost to us. that loss is mindboggling. it is heartwrenching.

and so, i guess we’ll just party on with our tabouli.

*****

WEEPING MAN mixed media 48″ x 36″ (available for purchase)

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risking tatters. [kerri’s blog on not-so-flawed wednesday]

the heat index was 106 degrees. it had finally gotten a tad bit cooler and we were lounging – relatively motionless – in the gravity chairs mid-evening. watching the birds busy at the birdbath and the squirrel ecstatic at the barney-buffet, we suddenly were aware of two stunning dragonflies zipping around us and then landing on the piece-o’-our-beloved-tree branch on the deck next to us. just a couple feet away from us, they stuck around for a long time, gently flexing their wings and repositioning but not leaving. it’s like they wanted us to notice they were there.

it was shocking how close they allowed me to get to photograph them…so close that my iphone blurred some of the insect images – the depth of field of the camera instead opting to clear-focus on something further away.

dragonflies – are associated with messages of “transformation, joy and living life to the fullest…are often seen as gentle nudges to release worries and embrace the present moment.” it is also popular that they are “a gentle reminder that guardian angels or loved ones who have passed are watching over you…bringing…comfort…during transitional times.”

good grief, this is a good time – in countless ways – for a connection between heaven and earth.

i’ve been around big water most of my life. the ocean, long island sound, the gulf of mexico, lake michigan. dragonflies are drawn to bodies of water, so it would make sense that i would have had plenty of first-person experiences with dragonflies. clearly they have been around and i have admired their flight nearby. but i can’t point to a moment before when i was as viscerally aware – in a sharing of the same vibration-frequency way.

this time was different.

in a time that is fraught with so many uncertainties, i feel like any nod to reassurance or comfort is worth noticing. i feel like any “omen of power, bravery, transformation” is buoying. i feel like anything that might connect us to greater good is paramount.

the aerial (adult) stage of a dragonfly – the time this beautiful creature flies on these iridescent wings – is typically short — weeks to months long. most of its life is spent in its previous nymph stage, up to five years in the water. once airborne, their wings cannot repair, and high speed flight and other perils of tattered-wing damage blunt their ability to fly.

the dragonfly’s primary goal – their evolutionary goal – is “for the insect to disperse, find a mate and lay eggs near water“. their compound eyes – as many as thirty thousand of photoreceptor cells – take in everything around them and help them have a prey rate of 97%, one of the most successful predators currently on the planet. these fleeting creatures are stunningly impactful, successfully passing on life to their next generation.

we have limited time with the iridescent wings of our own lives. it would seem that we are – indeed – in our aerial phase…the phase of transformation and embracing the present moment. it would seem that our job – no longer nymphs – is to pass on a world that is worthy.

if we merely sit still – silent, timid, withdrawn, inactive, self-focused – it is possible our fragile wings will last a tad bit longer.

but if we fly – bold and brave, eyes wide-open, risking tatters – we will have simultaneously touched the sky – even heaven – and lived on earth.

*****

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

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indeterminate like tomatoes. [kerri’s blog on two artists tuesday]

in 1992 david sold a painting to a man he has not spoken to since. a couple days ago he received a message on his website from this person – reaching out to tell him how much he has enjoyed this painting for the last almost-35 years. they mutually agreed that the reaching-out-reaching-back was like a homecoming.

this is why painters paint, why recording artists record, why writers write.

because sometime – in the vast sometime that is time – and somewhere – in the vast somewhere that is out there – someone is touched by a work and actually reaches out to let you know.

from conception to completed work – is anything really complete without an audience? – we work to bring to life an idea, a question, a texture, a gesture, an emotion.

just like these cherry tomatoes we pay attention…check on the necessities – like sun, water and sources of inspiration, muslin-tie up the branches that grow long and lanky, heavy with early buds and new fruit – protecting the muse, watch for pests – like aphids or a lack of confidence, hope for the best – tomatoes in the end or something worthy to release into the world. and then we set it free – this piece of us – so that we can start what’s next.

i learned early in the studio that to hold on too tightly to a track of music is to never be able to move on, to never grow, to never period the sentence. despite any lack of total perfection – for is anything ever really, truly perfect? – i learned that good is – actually -good and, by accepting that, i could produce a finished product.

the recording label our son owns posted a meme one day which read, “just make it EXIST first. you can make it good later.”

I laughed reading this. it goes hand and hand with the john cage quote i have in my studio: “begin anywhere“.

it is both in the trepidation of the beginning – and the anxiety of the finishing – where artists can get lost. it takes practice – and courage – to start. it takes practice – and courage – to finish.

it never hurts to hear from someone that a work has made their world a little bit better, even that a work has accompanied them – for years and years – on their walk in the world.

the cherry tomato ripens. if all the conditions are right, it’s inevitable. and, in the way of indeterminate tomato plants – which “continue to grow and blossom and produce fruit throughout the entire season” – more tomatoes will ripen – even if you pick some and consume them, even if some fall off the vining branch. the plant keeps on, regardless. “there are no gardening mistakes, only experiments.” (janet kilburn phillips)

so, too, it is with artistry. we are indeterminate – it is the imperative – we will continue to grow and blossom and experiment and produce more fruit our entire seasons – especially if all the conditions are right, especially when we know the fruit resonated with someone in vast sometime-somewhere.

no matter, though. the tomato plants keep growing wildly in these weirdly wisconsin sub-tropical summer days. despite it all.

and the artists do as well.

“…stick with it no matter what. tell your story.” (barkersounds)

*****

read DAVID’s thoughts this TWO ARTISTS TUESDAY

FARM
TO TABLE

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schmancy-fancy. [kerri’s blog on merely-a-thought monday]

our lakefront is really quite beautiful. the city does a remarkable job with the gardens; flowers are everywhere. the harbor and the pavilion at the park are sites for many a photo shoot – anything from proms to family reunions to weddings to quinceañeras. just a few days ago we walked past a bride and groom and their stunningly-dressed wedding party celebrating over by the beach, just beyond the ribbon-wrapped-chairs in the garden.

i imagine this sequin-lace-tulle butterfly is from either a quinceañera dress or, less likely, a prom gown. somehow it took wing and flew from the hostess’ frock, this froo-froo landing on the harbor sidewalk where we walked by it on a hot summer day. though i snapped photographs of it, we didn’t pick it up, thinking that maybe a little girl or boy might pass by and claim this magical butterfly, seemingly waiting for them. i can dream a little.

though i have a few sequins – concert performing clothes – i haven’t worn any in quite a while. these few hangers have been relegated to a side of my small closet – things that hold no current relevance. even most concerts didn’t merit sequins. not because the audience didn’t merit them, but because i am not really a sequin person and i like to perform authentically.

we just aren’t fancy-schmancy people.

20 stared at my flipflops the other day – wrinkling his brow and grimacing with a few words, “expensive flipflops, eh?” and “i don’t like flipflops”.

old navy flipflops have pretty much been our standard fare in the summer. though age and knees and hips and such have made us hike in actual hiking sandals. nevertheless nothing schmancy. i wrinkled and grimaced back at him.

i have to say, though, that i have taken a liking to fancy bandaids. because i am having some sort of toe issue – i injured my toe and the nail fell off – i know, ewwwww. i have taken to wearing a bandaid over my toe to protect it.

now, i am a toenail polish girl – mostly because i inherited these enormous toes from my parents and painting them makes me feel better about their gigunda size (and also distorts my reality by making me think that they look smaller, more dainty and feminine with merlot-colored toenail polish on them). in real life, i suppose no one is really looking at my toes – though they might now that i have drawn attention to them. regardless, a plain beige (plastic or flexible fabric) bandaid on my big toe is gauche perched next to my other toes with self-painted merlot. (some of the perils of womanhood are grander than others.)

and so, i went on the search for fancier bandaids.

funny. most printed bandaids are for children. they have tons of options. not so much for adults or – specifically – a woman trying to disguise a non-nailed toe amidst her other toes, which aren’t so cute to begin with.

i did find a box of wildflower bandaids. the distribution of sizes is a challenge. they parse out 15 tiny bandaids, 10 medium bandaids and only give you like 5 bandaids of the largest size – the size i need for my nailless toe. (of note – in case you need this information: large wildflower print does nothing to tone down a large toe. small wildflower print helps minimally.) i honed my skill at layering a plain bandaid with a fancy-schmancy one and bought a second box just in case. lord knows how long the grow-out might take. and what if i have to go to something fancy-schmancy in the meanwhile…something that requires cute sandals and a sundress or the flowy overalls in my closet i like to wear with flipflops that have a little slanted platform (also old navy and so many years old now that i dread their demise)…

if, perchance, you are worried about my wearying of this one print of bandaids (two if you count the layering approach), i certainly welcome any and all suggestions of other schmancy bandaids you have found.

in the meanwhile, i could always wrap my toe in tulle, sequins and lace and call it good.

ahh…the saying “you can dress ’em up but you can’t take ’em anywhere” comes to mind.

*****

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

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