An owl feather “…symbolizes wisdom, intuition, and the ability to see beyond deception or hidden truths.” ~ Mr. Google
We found an owl feather on our trail. I said, “It’s a good omen.” Even as I said it I knew that endowing the feather with the power of an omen is one way, my way, of giving meaning to my life. This grand old universe is winking at me and wants me to know that all is well. Or perhaps I am winking at this grand old universe in the hope that there is meaning beyond what I make.
Maria Popova wrote that omens “…are a conversation between consciousness and reality in the poetic language of belief.”
Some might scoff at my owl-feather-omen. I don’t mind. I see no difference between my conversation with something greater by finding a feather on a path – and the route others take by sitting in pews reciting prayers together. Although we find our feathers and hold our conversation in different ways they are, after all, the same conversation.
The language of belief is poetic. It is referential. An allusion.
We get into trouble when we believe that there is only one way of conversing with the universe. We miss the point. If you think about it, my owl omen and your whispered prayer have much in common. Your Bible, your Quran or your Vedas, the sutras and mantras and psalms, the I-Ching and astrology, astronomy and quantums…are matter and energy talking to each other. The tiny yearning reaches for communion with the greater whole.
“I’d rather be a dog, and bay the moon, than such a Roman.” ~ William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar
It’s not that I don’t appreciate Senator Tom Tillis’ take down of DHS Secretary Kristi Noem. She certainly deserves all the derision that comes her way. I found his comments to be the height of irony, rebuking Noem for her poor leadership while he and the entire republican congress have been the poster-children for excessively subpar leadership. They have been silent, abdicating their duty and oath to uphold the Constitution, enabling the takedown of our democracy and running cover for the Epstein Class. Tillis only found his voice and his courage after he announced his retirement. It’s easy to feign indignation once you are out of the game. He, along with every member of his party, deserves the same humiliation.
This is the comment that rankled me: “We’re an exceptional nation. And one of the reasons we’re exceptional is we expect exceptional leadership.”
Where-oh-where is the exceptional leadership in the republican congress? Had Tom Tillis aimed his comments at himself and his republican peers while DOGE was wreaking havoc on our government or while his party was abdicating all responsibility for tariffs we might find his comment meaningful. I particularly find his expectation of exceptional leadership to ring hollow while the president and his party continue to provide cover for an international ring of pedophiles or go to war without congressional approval or profit billionaires at the expense of the poor or unleash a gestapo on our streets or undermine elections or…
The entire cabinet is less than exceptional. The AWOL republican members of congress are weak. Remarkably unexceptional. As a co-equal branch of government they have proven to be dismal.
We-the-people do, in fact, expect exceptional leadership and are dumbfounded by what we see. Waiting to speak your truth until you no longer have skin in the game is less than exceptional. It’s the opposite of leadership. It’s cowardice.
“It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt” ~ Mark Twain
A note to the right-wing podcast ecosystem (as inspired by the fence-sitting-squirrel, a silhouette, an image obscured by a screen):
Dear Joe Rogan and Co.: With this latest betrayal – a war declared by your America-First president – it is probably occurring to you (at long last) that you have been deceived. I understand there was already a tiny crack in your unwavering belief since you’ve recently realized that, despite his full-throated campaign promise to expose the Epstein Files, he is actually implicated in them, and will go to great lengths, even going to war, to keep them concealed. He lied to you about the Files. He lied to you about America First. He lied to you about being a champion of the little guy. I hope it is not lost on you that the Epstein Class of billionaires are enjoying their massive tax break while the rest of us are finding day-to-day life less and less affordable.
He lies. Until now, you’ve either swallowed, justified or explained away his lies. It is my hope that you are finally opening your eyes and seeing the extent and pervasiveness of his lies. He has no intention of cleaning the swamp because he is the swamp. To that end I hope you are also now growing savvy to his endless claim-without-evidence that the 2020 election was rigged. It was not. That, too, is a lie. It’s more important now than ever that you awaken to this particular lie because he is claiming that all of our elections – especially the upcoming midterms – are rigged against him.
Do you see the pattern? While he lies to you he simultaneously strips you of your rights. Due process is a right that is already violated; it either applies to all or to none-at-all. A free and fair election is also your right. Despite what he proclaims we have always enjoyed honest, safe and fair elections – until now. Mail in ballots are safe. They always have been. You can check it out if you don’t believe me. “Illegals” are not pouring over the border to vote. That’s a straw man, an intentional misrepresentation meant to deceive you and keep you angry. His latest SAVE act would block millions of voters from exercising their right to vote.
Because of the success of his incessant lies our democracy now teeters on the edge of authoritarianism. The only chance we have is to come together, guard and secure our next election. We may not agree on much but I am assuming that we can all agree that our right to vote is worth protecting. Our vote is, after all, the epicenter of our republic and the liar is moving to take that right away. To do it, to be successful, he needs you to continue to believe his lies. He needs you to forget the Epstein Files lie. He needs you to believe every lie he tells about our latest war with Iran, Venezuela and Equador. He needs you to embrace every single lie he tells about voter fraud. Most of all, he needs you to promote and spread his lies.
He needs you to consider me and those like me, progressives, as the enemy. That, too, is a lie. We have the same goal: a healthy democracy – and deserve a government that serves us and not the Epstein Class. We deserve a government that honestly debates the best path forward which requires it to deal in truth and not hide behind lies.
You have a voice, a platform. I – we- can only ask that you take an honest look at the yawning gap between what you’ve been told, what you’ve been led to believe – and what has actually transpired. We are now at war. The president is actively covering up the Epstein Files. There is no truth or proof to his claims of voter fraud.
If you desire free and fair elections this fall, we, the nation, need you to challenge the lies and speak to what you now see. We-the-people need you use your platform to protect the veracity of our elections. Literally put America first – rather than assist the liar in his authoritarian takeover – do what you say you believe and lend your voice – give your voice – to the protection our democracy.
Horatio reported that he and T are becoming hermits. Kerri and I feel that we, too, are tending toward the reclusive. It would not surprise me to learn that there is a national impulse toward hunkering down. We had a Saturday plan for adventure and awoke to find the liar-in-chief, the pedophile-president, had started a war with Iran. We scrapped our plan. It was lightly snowing so we decided to relish the temporary quiet that the snow brings. Kerri headed outside to capture the snow crystals collecting on the tall grasses. Find the beauty in the moment regardless of the bleak circumstance.
I am aware that the danger of authoritarian takeovers, like the one we are experiencing, complete with a masked gestapo that does not feel bound by the law, a president who is immune to the law, and a congress that ignores the law, is that it will make agoraphobics of us all. It is human nature to opt for safety, which successfully inhibits freedom of movement. That’s what the bully and his cohort count on. Pitting safety against freedom is in the authoritarian playbook. That’s why we must step out, take to the streets, join hands and exercise our fundamental right to protest while we still have it. It’s all that now stands between us (our democracy) and the authoritarian take-over. A free people create safety for each other; people running for safety have already lost their freedom.*
Do you find it ironic, as I do, that one of the many reasons given for this war-of-choice is to help free the Iranian people from authoritarian rule – all the while the administration (if you can call it that) are assaulting our democracy, ignoring the constitution, pulling out all the stops to suppress our free and fair elections in order to establish authoritarian rule here at home?
I find the real beauty of the moment to be the people of our nation, concerned for their freedom, taking to the streets. Instead of running inside to hide – as this administration thought we would – instead of seeking safety in the face of the thuggery, we’re facing the bullies, standing-up for our basic freedoms. Renee Nicole Good. Alex Pretti. We’re invoking the spirit of John Lewis and all those who knew that freedom is a prerequisite of safety. The intention of freedom-and-justice-for-all is a prerequisite of democracy. Once lost, there is no safety, there is no justice.
We are living in a very bleak circumstance, indeed. And yet there is so much beauty – the guardians of freedom – the people – pour into the streets. It inspires even the most dedicated hermit to dust off his coat and join the protest-chorus.
Horatio also reported that each week, he and T, along with their granddaughter, take to the streets and lend their voices to the cause of democracy. They dance and laugh and sing with the other protesters. They stand in the winter cold waving signs at passing cars. These are not the actions of hermits-in-the-making. The truth betrays itself. These are the actions of people who are less concerned with their safety and comfort than they are determined that their grandchildren will live their lives in a country that is free.
I inverted the canvas. Turning a canvas upside down jiggles the eyes and loosens the grip of a mind that is fixed on seeing what it wants to see. It helps to pop the assumptions and see what is there and not what I think is there.
If the United States was a canvas it is a fair assertion to make that we’ve been inverted. Our eyes are jiggled. Our assumptions are popped. We can clearly see what has been here all along and it’s not what we thought. Power protects the pedophiles and threatens the lives of those abused. The Justice Department refuses to seek justice and, instead, covers-up the crime. Thugs in masks brutalize citizens, invade homes and kidnap people from the streets, all the while claiming that they are making our cities safer.
We are upside-down so we can see it.
We clearly see the lies of those who insist that all is as it should be. They stand and applaud the liar. They attach themselves to the lie and so create a very low bar to jump, wrecking democracy and giving rise to authoritarianism. The enthusiastic embrace of an obvious lie. Huzzah! The felon convicted of over thirty counts of fraud concocts a “war on fraud” to distract from his ongoing titanic swindle. His party pumped their fists and cheered. And then he started an actual war, Operation Epstein File Diversion.
Have you ever for a moment mistaken the sun for the moon? The disorientation is temporary but inspires an immediate question: What time of day is it? Later it might seem a silly question but it is, in the moment, necessary for reorienting in space and time.
As a nation we are upside-down. We were momentarily disoriented. Now, it’s only a matter of time before go to the polls and remind the liar and his sycophantic tribe that we see what is there, that we reorient to the Constitution, the rule of law, and give boot to the clown-car-cult of the would-be king.
Just in case you thought we were a classy couple, this image ought to dispel you of any illusion and knock us off the swanky-pedestal. Munchos and red wine. A classic combination.
This is actually an image of a celebration. The purpose of the celebration must remain undisclosed for national security reasons but in case you scrutinized the photo and are alarmed at the obvious daylight – and are worried that we began our celebration before noon or even before breakfast, rest assured that spring is approaching, the days are getting longer: we tipped our glasses at a reasonably late hour. By any sensible measure we were solidly in the happy hour zone when the vino met the Munchos. Dogga will attest to our appropriate start time. He is also a fan of Munchos though remains a teetotaler.
Some of my favorite celebrations in life did not happen in upscale restaurants or with linen napkins. They did not cost an arm and a leg. I will forever cherish tater-tots for the memories they invoke. Remembrance of biscuits and gravy at 3am, the clinking of coffee cups is a treasure. A baguette and white wine by the fountain. The extraordinary in the ordinary. Celebration of life with what’s at hand.
We constantly remind ourselves in this time of the world-gone-mad, not to miss the moments of celebration, not to let the horror-of-the-moment blot out the warmth of the sun. Did you know that the name Chickadee is onomatopoetic? I did not. Chick-a-dee-dee-dee! We opened the door so we could better hear the Black-capped Chickadee serenade our celebration.
We achieved a milestone. It could not have been better commemorated than with birdsong, Dogga at our feet, while we crunched a salty snack (the entire bag weighing less than 4 ounces!) and toasted life with a glass of red wine.
***
Once again, a post written prior to the latest outrage and act of titanic corruption. A war of distraction. Or, follow the money. Either way it is indefensible and unconstitutional though, we (I) might as well admit that the republicans and maga-minded have no use for the constitution (or critical thinking) as they daily throw it away.
Still, our blog post sentiment remains true: do not miss the opportunities to celebrate what is good and right amidst our national suicide-by-stupidity.
Posted on February 27, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative
“In emptiness alone can there be creation.” ~ Krishnamurti
Horatio reminded me of a fundamental lesson in actor training: come in empty.
The great actor/director James Edmondson once told me that the art of acting is the art of presence. What is presence if not full availability, without need to achieve or to force action or to manipulate anything? Stand empty in a moment, open to all possibilities.
Saul the tai-chi master taught his students to look beyond the “obstacle” and place their eyes in the field of all possibilities. No resistance. No story. No need. More than once he said to me, “Let the energy move you.” Don’t fight. Don’t push. Relax. Empty.
We are cleaning out our home, emptying closets and shelves, and have more than once affirmed to each other that we are opening space to “allow the new to come in”.
Our candlelight walk through the woods was transformative. I stepped onto the path with a very busy, very distressed mind. As we walked my anxiety slipped away. The stars became more important than the thoughts raging in my mind. I quieted. We quieted. The woods came alive – or we – I – came alive in the woods. When I stepped onto the path I was tired. As we completed our second loop, leaving the path, I felt rejuvenated. Enlivened. Empty mind.
As we came around the corner of the Pringle Center on our way back to the car, a row of pine trees caught us. They were glowing. The light cast from the center combined with a crystal clear night made them shimmer. They beckoned. Kerri took their portrait saying, “Photographs can’t capture the light. They don’t do them justice.” She put away the camera and we stood for a moment agog at the glow, enthralled by what we’d passed-by merely an hour before, unnoticed.
Awe. Ever present and available when coming in empty.
Posted on February 26, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative
As I was filing my latest painting into the stacks I was suddenly overwhelmed with intense gratitude at having lived an artist’s life. My appreciation was not so much about the growing rolls and stacks of paintings but at the inner imperatives that made me throw caution to the economic wind and chase a my deeper calling. And the truth is that I never felt like I had a choice. Twice I tried to jump off the path and do something more reasonable-and-secure and both times it nearly gutted me.
Horatio reminded me of Ernest Becker’s definition of the work of an artist in his book, The Denial of Death: “The artist takes in the world, but instead of being oppressed by it, he reworks it in his own personality and recreates it in the work of art”.
Making meaning, meaning making through color, sound, movement and word.
There’s so much in this world – in this nation at the moment – that is oppressive and cruel. None of the mean-spirited incompetence or the incessant lies or the blatant exploitation makes sense to me. Why would an entire political party participate in the cover-up of an international pedophile ring, stand solidly behind a convicted felon, a man found liable for sexual assault, an insurrectionist opening grifting the nation and bullying the world? Standing in front of an easel, working on a play or writing a daily blog – is the only way I know of making sense of it all, translating my disgust into something more useful and meaningful.
I have grown enamored of the winter reeds and grasses. On a section of a favorite trail there is an area of distressed drainage. In the summer it is a gathering place for turtles. In the winter the water freezes and the amber grasses sway on a field of blue ice and snow. It never fails to capture our attention. It never fails to bring us back to a quiet center, in touch with an enduring truth. I listen to the whisper-song of the grasses as Kerri photographs the play of colors. Standing in the mud and the cold we marvel at our good fortune.
“People create the reality they need in order to discover themselves.” ~ Ernest Becker
Posted on February 25, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative
In a roiling stream of consciousness, the limbs at sunset evoked a memory of watching a master of ink and brush, a fluid stroke, a guided hand that for some reason pitched me into Robert Motherwell. I scrolled through selections of his work and was taken by how many of his pieces are direct descendants of Henri Matisse. I was taken by how many times he returned to a theme Elegy To The Spanish Republic. The atrocities of war.
We heard the phrase “conscious avoidance” but thought we heard “conscience avoidance”. The confusion was fantastic! If I someday paint a series of pieces about the un-United States during these authoritarian years I will name the series Conscience Avoidance. Pam Bondi refusing to look at the Epstein survivors. The republican congress emasculating itself, refusing to deal with the obvious truth. The conservative members of the Supreme Court refusing to look at the Constitution. The Constitution stares, mouth agape, at the justices who try not to look at it. My massive canvases will be pocked with oppressive black strokes. Soul holes. Void.
There will, of course, be a parallel series. Conscience Totems. An homage to the people who take to the streets. Keepers of the promise and the light. Bright swaths of vibrant color evoking guide stars and torches and courage. The fluid strokes mimicking a master of ink and brush, a hand guided by something grander than self-serving-money-lust or personal-political-gain. The living branches of a tree reaching one to the other, interlaced and interconnected, reflective of their roots, drinking deeply from the earth so it might touch the sky. A celebration of those unafraid to look power in the eye and ask, “What happened to you?”
Posted on February 24, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative
I’ve not read John Steinbeck‘s novel, The Winter Of Our Discontent, but now seems to be a good time. Here’s an overview: “John Steinbeck’s The Winter of Our Discontent is about Ethan Allen Hawley, a man from a fallen aristocratic family in a corrupt, post-WWII American town, who abandons his morals for wealth, exploring themes of disillusionment, integrity, and the decay of the American Dream as he manipulates his way to success, only to find emptiness. The story follows his internal struggle as he gives in to the materialistic pressures from his family and society, ultimately questioning the true cost of success and the nature of honesty in a self-serving world.” (A I Overview)
Perhaps this would be an appropriate book for members of the republican party to read? They seem hellbent on abandoning their morals for wealth, manipulating their way to power (otherwise known as lying and gaslighting), actively assaulting the American Dream en route to finding emptiness.
It is cold comfort to realize that our current kerfuffle is not unique to our times. Moral bankruptcy has been – and continues to be – a persistent problem in the national psyche. My favorite phrase in the overview is this: the nature of honesty in a self-serving world.
As we’ve previous written, we hit the trail as often as possible to clear our minds, to step out of the daily hoohaw and reconnect with tangible reality. We inevitably focus on the beauty that surrounds us. It is inescapable to take a walk in the woods and not arrive at some level of understanding of interconnection. It is a short leap from there to the realization that any harm done to others is harm done to yourself. Any poison dumped into the river is poison dumped into yourself. And, on the flip-side, any service done for others is service to yourself. Any generosity offered to others is a generosity given to yourself. Thriving community is – and always has been – the blossom of other-serving.
If there is a persistent hoax afoot in our nation it is the republican-cowboy-notion of “every man for himself”. It is a lie. It is a swindler’s philosophy, a justification for raw exploitation. Exploitation of others inevitably fleeces everyone. It is not true, as the republicans-since-Reagan would have us believe, that the “welfare mothers” and “illegals” are taking advantage of our hard-earned tax dollars, it is in fact the Epstein Class, the morbidly wealthy, who have in the past 5 decades sucked over 50 trillion dollars of wealth from the middle and lower classes into the coffers of the 1%. What is the cost of success in a self-serving world? As many have written, we are witnessing the suicide of a superpower at the hands of a bloated oligarchy.
Here’s the last line of the overview: “Ultimately, the novel serves as a cautionary tale about the emptiness that results from sacrificing one’s principles for material gain, resonating with Steinbeck’s broader concerns about the state of the American character.”
The Direction of Intention 