A Run On The Wheel [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

One of our first FLAWED cartoons features a gerbil running hard on a gerbil wheel while his supervisor-gerbil watches, smokes a cigarette, and says, “This work thing sucks.”

I found a revisioned truth in that original cartoon drawn over a decade ago. Kerri calls it “The Oligarchy versus The People. There is a class of gerbil that works hard on the wheel. There is a class of gerbil that profits from the work.

This morning while making breakfast I had another revelation about the cartoon. With the latest release of Epstein File documents, with the number of rich and powerful white men named in the files, with the damning accusations and implications running rampant through the files, I was struck by the blaring absence of investigations into those men. There is a class of gerbil that is subject to the law. There is a class of gerbil that the law refuses to touch.

The department of deception (formerly known as the department of justice) is refusing to release at least 50% of the documents. Given the picture painted in the latest batch of releases and the 100% certainty that they are covering-up for the worst-of the-worst, one can only wonder if there is a bottom to the depravity. Actually, we already know the answer to that question.

Though, there is a subtle reversal of roles happening on the ol’ gerbil wheel. We-the-gerbils-that-do-the-work are witnessing the power-gerbils running scared – and running faster and faster to escape the truth of their twisted lives. They will find, as we have, that a run on the wheel goes nowhere. They can run ever-faster but they cannot escape the truth of the wheel. And while they run they can be certain that we are watching them sweat.

There may be some justice after all.

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE WHEEL

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And Why? [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

High in the offices of KerriandDavid International headquarters, we stare at photos during our Melange selection process. Sometimes words appear in the image. In this photo the word, “Why” appeared. It’s akin to “Some Pig” showing up in Charlotte’s Web. “Whoa!” we whispered in unison.

“And why wouldn’t nature ask us, “Why?” Kerri added.

It may be that we have stared too long at photographs. It also might be the impact of too much coffee. In any case, we both saw the word in the bramble. It is an excellent and very appropriate question for nature to be asking of humanity. Why?

If we are learning anything these days it is that humanity is largely insane. This will not be the first time that humans have exhausted their resources and thoroughly soiled their nest en route to societal extinction all to make a buck or for the few to stand atop the pyramid.

Never doubt the power of story. Denial is, after all, a powerful form of story.

My WTF headline of the day, a perfect example of denial, is from US NEWS. It’s a report on the Womanosphere’s* continued and rabid support of ICE. The headline? Don’t Let Compassion Cloud You. I kid you not. It’s madness cut from the same cloth that brings us Stephen Miller insisting that Alex Pretti was a terrorist. No, don’t believe your eyes. Don’t let compassion cloud you. Keep your head in the gaslight. Ignore your heart. Gobble the propaganda.

Swear the ship is unsinkable even as it meets the obvious iceberg.

Since the early 1980’s we’ve known – through this magical thing called “science” – that carbon emissions were greatly impacting climate. The predictions from those early warnings were dire and we are, not surprisingly, living those dire predictions today.

The debate we are having is not about what is best for our survival but what is good for business. Don’t let science get in the way.

We are, whether we want to admit it or not, a part of nature. We are not above it even if we like to story ourselves as superior. Here is the lesson of societies long past that waved their superiority from atop the pyramid: nature is not really concerned with our story. Hurricanes are indiscriminate. As are mudslides and earthquakes. Drought does not care who it kills.

People, on the other hand are capable of discernment. People are capable of compassion. People are capable of knowing better. People are capable of learning from their past and their mistakes. In other words, people are more than capable of asking, “Why?” And, if they don’t, they end up making ridiculous statements from the top of their imagined pyramid like “Don’t Let Your Compassion Cloud You” or “Climate Change Is A Hoax,” or “He Was Brandishing A Gun.”

Whatever. Close your eyes if you must. Close your heart if you are capable.

I think I’ll listen to my heart while I pay attention to science. I’ll continue to ask, “Why?” My eyes and heart and brain are not in opposition to each other – and, even more to the point – while fully open and engaged, they are great at keeping me attuned to reality and off of some imaginary pyramid.

*I’d ordinarily provide a link as proof that such inanity exits but I refuse to support the algorithm that makes stupidity and cruelty popular.

read Kerri’s blogpost about WHY

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The Source [David’s blog on KS Friday]

A meme flew by. It used the events of last Saturday to illuminate two different ideas of masculinity. The first as demonstrated by Alex Pretti, a man trying to help a woman who was just shoved to the ground. He stood between the woman and her attacker. The second model of masculinity was demonstrated by the ICE-men who tackled, beat and murdered Alex Pretti.

After the meme flew by I wished that I could amend it. For me it did not illuminate two models of masculinity, rather, it made a clear distinction between a man and a beast, between a healthy human being and a rabid animal. It highlighted the difference between a good intention and a toxic drive.

Most hearts in the nation are heavy. Witnessing yet another execution in the streets by agents of the government – and then defended by the leaders all the way up to and including the authoritarian wannabe in the White House – has left us aghast. John Pavlovitz suggested that our heavy hearts are necessary; they are a sure sign of our humanity. They are fuel for our outrage.

Alex Pretti’s heavy heart required him to step into the streets of his city and video the brutality enacted upon his neighbors. Renee Good’s heavy heart did the same. Service to others is often an action inspired by a heavy heart. It takes a great deal of courage to stand between a masked thug and his victim. It takes great strength to video the abuse as if to say, “We see you and you will not get away with this”.

I opened The Marginalian this morning and read this: “Here is the mathematical logic of the spirit: If love is the quality of attention we pay something other than ourselves and hate is the veil of not understanding ourselves, then loving the world more — the other word for which is kindness — is largely a matter of deepening our awareness and sharpening our attention on both sides of the skin that membranes the self.”

Love is the quality of attention we pay something other than ourselves. Hate is the veil of not understanding ourselves. Hate is self-focused. Love is other-focused.

Democracy is by definition other-focused. Authoritarianism is by definition self-focused.

Our heavy hearts are propelling us into the streets. It just might be that our heavy hearts will be the necessary ingredient that saves our democracy from the rabid authoritarians. It just might be that our heavy hearts will propel us to stand between the self-centered oligarchy currently shoving Lady Liberty to the ground. Our heavy hearts do not make us weak. They are the source of our outrage and fuel for our courage.

WATERSHED on the album AS IT IS © 2004 Kerri Sherwood

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE HEART

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No Need [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

In their struggle for power, the princes, the two sons of the king, meet in battle and both die. It’s an ancient tale. Aesop could have written it. In the blind greed for power everyone loses.

I’ve tried to paint this analogy several times over the past decade. Each time I have been unsuccessful; the painting takes on a life of its own. Twice, instead of painting dead princes on the battlefield, both attempts morphed into Shared Fatherhood.

I tried again just before the turn of the new year. I am disgusted with both parties, democrats and republicans and tried again to paint the brothers dead on the battlefield. The meaningless loss.

Yet, once again, the lifeless bodies morphed. Their weapons and wounds disappeared. Clenched fists relaxed. Full of life, the figures embrace. They sleep together, peacefully.

I will not again try to paint the warring brothers. Clearly, my analogy for power-greed serves a greater invocation of generosity. Unselfishness. A shared cause, like a parent’s love for their child, a kindness for each other.

Invocation. The people protesting on the streets of Minneapolis are summoning peace. They are looking out for each other. They are standing in harm’s way for each other. They serve a cause greater than greed for power. They are teaching me what my paintings are trying to reach. A calling forth of the best in us. A desire for our representatives to serve a common center – democracy – instead of personal gain.

We walked the trail on a bitter cold day. The snow was frozen and crunched beneath or feet. It was quiet. The sun streamed through the trees and offered a touch of warmth. It never fails. When we step into nature and out of the noise, when we listen to the wind through the trees, spot the deer motionless in the tangle, when we stop to feel the sun touch us on a bitter cold day, I know beneath the greed for power there is a greater force, a deeper meaning. Two people sharing the joy of their child. Two people resting in the comfort of an embrace. A community in service to common good. The generosity of peace. The creation of peace.

These power-mongers will slay each other. It’s inevitable.

After so many attempts I’ve learned that I have no need to paint the obvious, I have no need to make a statement as old and evident as the sons of Oedipus.

Untitled, 33.25″x60″, mixed media

Shared Fatherhood II, 25.25 x 40.25IN, mixed media

Shared Fatherhood 1, 39 x 51IN, mixed media

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE SUN ON TRAIL

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Unconditionally [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

We spent the morning watching dog adoption videos. There’s nothing like watching the explosion of love from a forlorn and forgotten pooch finding a home to remind us of the good in the world. It was an intentional diversion. We were exhausted from the immorality and incompetence of the current administration, the blatant lies sold whole cloth as truth.

Last night Mark Elias cautioned his viewers to stop pretending that we are on the road to authoritarianism. “We are already there,” he said.

During the summer months we walk the bridge spanning the Des Plaines River so we can watch the turtles. They crawl onto the banks and fallen trees to soak up the sun. At first glance they are not easy to spot. We know where they congregate so we take the time necessary to locate them. In the winter we visit the bridge to marvel at the changing contours of the frozen river. Stand on the bridge long enough and what seems barren soon reveals abundant life. Actually, the signs of abundant life don’t magically appear, rather, our eyes adjust, moving beyond our barren expectation so we can see what was actually there all along.

In her latest installment Heather Cox Richardson recounts how Abraham Lincoln met the near authoritarian takeover of the nation by the Southern Democrats. “We’ve been here before,” Kerri said, adding, “We seem incapable of dealing with the problem,” I thought but did not say, “It seems we just kicked the can down the road.”

I am lately haunted by a quote from Jiddu Krishnamurti:It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society.”

I wonder what it would take for us, for this generation, to deal once-and-for-all with the ugly white supremacy, a remnant of colonialism, so tightly woven into our nation’s history? It is our disease and we are currently testing whether or not our disease is fatal or can be treated. Can we be cured in mind, body and spirit? Can we grow beyond our dedicated and persistent division? What if we refuse to kick the can down the road?

What is required to close the gap in our rhetoric so that when we utter the word “equality”or speak the phrase, “Freedom and justice for all” – we actually mean ALL THE PEOPLE. Unconditionally. Is it so hard to imagine that the words, “We The People,” so sacred in our story, might apply equally to ALL of the people?

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE RIVER

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The Full Realization [David’s blog on Two Artists Tuesday]

Recently, as she signs-off her video updates, Heather Cox Richardson reminds her audience to “take care of yourselves.” To eat well. To get plenty of rest. The times are extraordinary. “It will get worse before it gets better.”

We live in interesting times and they are getting worse.

We watched much of Jack Smith’s testimony before the House Judiciary Committee. As I watched I had a sad realization or perhaps I finally admitted to myself what I already knew: the republicans will never stand up. There is no line in the sand for them; there is no lie too big to spew, no violation to the Constitution too egregious or corruption too appalling to embrace. There is no honor in their intention. There is no oath that they intend to honor.

In fairness, I am not totally correct. Cicero wrote that there is “Honor among thieves”. Criminals have codes; they are loyal to their fellow criminals. Watching the republican loyalty to their criminal-in-chief, I suppose that is a form of honor, no matter how sordid. I want to tell Cicero that some things never change.

Kate told us that she is having trouble sleeping. I’m hearing the same sentiment from many in my circle. She lives in Minneapolis. She is not viewing ICE through a screen. It’s more than a report on the news. It’s visceral. It’s hard to sleep when your neighbors are being executed or “disappeared”. In fact, I’d suggest that sleeplessness in the face of brutality enacted upon your community is a sign of an intact-morality. It’s an indication of a moral conscience.

Taking care of yourself – resting – is only possible when there is no doubt that others in the community are capable of resting, too. When masked thugs are busting down your neighbor’s doors – without a warrant – when 5 year olds are being arrested as the-worst-of-the-worst, when citizens are being murdered on the street, it is damn hard to sleep.

It’s been too cold for us to walk the trails. Walking is one of our main strategies for taking care of ourselves. And, truth be told, even when we manage to bundle up and hit the trail, we’re finding it harder and harder to escape the cold realities of ICE and full realization that the thieves in the republican congress reserve their loyalty – only – for themselves. It’s an exclusive club.

“It will get worse before it gets better.” Eat well. Get plenty of rest if you can. It seems that we are going to need it.

read Kerri’s blogpost about The Trail

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Our Moment [David’s blog on Merely A Thought Monday]

Last night we heard a pundit say, “As Minnesota goes, so goes the rest of the nation.” It’s true. If the ICE gestapo brutalizes Minnesota into authoritarian submission without consequence, it will only be a matter of time before this ruthless regime wages war on the rest of the nation. Minnesota is our Ukraine.

As Minnesota goes, so goes the rest of the nation. In the face of this masked brutality, the best impulse of humanity is rising. The community is coalescing. People are showing up to serve and to protect their neighbors. The leaders of the state are encouraging peaceful protest. The leaders of the state are calling out the blatant lies of a sadistic administration run amok. The people are meeting the ICE gestapo in the streets demanding the return to the rule of law in the face of the government’s institutionalized lawlessness.

Jacob Frey, the mayor of Minneapolis said, “This is our moment…to meet a whole lot of hate with a whole lot of love.”

Love need not be soft. Love sometimes looks like a person unwilling to sit quietly as injustice invades their neighborhood. Love stands before a masked and armed thug and blows a whistle. Love bears witness, holding high their camera, to record a government-paid-rabble piling onto an unarmed person, pulling frightened people from their cars, gassing families in their minivans, hauling undressed elders from their home into the frigid morning. Love conceals and drives people to work. Love delivers food to people afraid to leave their houses. Love refuses to surrender personal and communal sovereignty to the assault on freedom. Love rejects the manufactured divisions of the hatemongers and race-baiters currently leading the nation and justifying cruelty.

This is our moment. Either love or hate will rule the day. As Minnesota goes, so goes the rest of the nation and Minnesota gives me hope. A whole lot of love is rising to meet the masked purveyors of hate.

*****

I wrote this post days before the masked thugs of the United States executed Alex Pretti on a street in Minneapolis for exercising his first amendment right – and then attempted to brand him as the terrorist in the story because he was exercising his second amendment right. Their message to us is clear: fear your government. Be quiet. Their message is hate-full. For Alex Pretti, for Renee Good, and all of those who, in the face of this fear, continue exercising their rights, know that there is now no greater act of love than standing up for our neighbors, for our rights. The people in Minneapolis are our neighbors. The rights under assault are our rights. There can be no greater act of love than standing up for them and with them. The time for meeting hate with love is urgent. We are out of time.

read Kerri’s blogpost about LOVE

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Who Is Watching Whom? [Kerri’s blog on KS Friday]

To begin, let’s start with the term “Ant Farm”. It’s otherwise known as a formicarium, a container habitat that “approximates” a natural environment. It’s made of clear plastic or glass allowing us to watch the behavior of the ants, the social hierarchies, physical structures (like tunneling and chamber making), dynamics with the queen, the life cycles of the ant colony.

I wonder if the ants know that their farm is the approximation of a natural environment or if they carry on as they would in any old environment without witnesses and walls? Are we watching the ant adaptation to a thin-world-construct? Are we watching an ant performance?

I imagine we place ourselves much higher on the critter hierarchy pyramid than the ants. It brings to mind a quote from E.O. Wilson, a brilliant man who studied ants: “If all mankind were to disappear, the world would regenerate back to the rich state of equilibrium that existed ten thousand years ago. If insects were to vanish, the environment would collapse into chaos.”

We are unique in our hubris. We are startling in our blindness.

These days it makes me wonder what larger consciousness plays witness to our behavior in our approximation of a natural environment. Doesn’t it sometimes feel like we are in a the subjects of an experiment? How many freedoms will we surrender, how many horrors will we tolerate before we challenge the unnatural delusion of supremacy? Would we rather erase ourselves than to recognize our natural interdependence? In the past 75 years in our ant farm, in an evolutionary step in consciousness, we’ve acknowledged our need for each other and created societal structures like NATO.

250 years ago an evolutionary idea took one giant step forward. It is called democracy in diversity, a society – an ideal – where the many participate together as one.

Will we step backwards into the fallacy of supremacy and collapse our farm? Will we thump our chests and erase ourselves? Or will we root out the diseased minds and delusional leaders, dismantle the false hierarchy and recognize our utter need for each other and our interdependence with our environment?

Who is watching whom?

Kerri’s albums are available on iTunes and streaming on Pandora

read Kerri’s blogpost about THE ANT FARM


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These Bright Lights [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.” ~ Plato

And aren’t we now witness to a real tragedy. A president and his party desperately afraid of the light of truth. They pretend bravado, they posture as leaders, all the while terrified of shining a light on the Epstein files. Their dance is a dance of distraction. Their abject fear of light shining on their darkness makes them monstrous. They throw shadows on the wall in an attempt to divert attention from the files.

We have “happy lights” strategically placed all over our house. During the dark days of winter these lights lift our spirits much as a campfire might if we were lost in the deep woods. Firelight repels shadow monsters. Happy lights repel sadness monsters. In the dark of early morning, after plugging in the coffee pot, I plug in the happy lights.

Plato wrote an allegory about prisoners’ chained in a cave. They mistake shadow for reality. One of the prisoners escapes and learns that the shadows are not the truth. He returns to the cave excited to share his discovery with the other prisoners and is met with hostile rejection. The others have grown accustomed to their chains and comfortable in their ignorance. It’s an allegory appropriate for MAGA and perfectly describes the propaganda-Fox casting shadow-monsters on the wall.

In Minneapolis and other cities, people of color are afraid to leave their houses. There are real monsters, masked and armed, roaming the streets. Although these monsters are not themselves shadows their minds are awash in them. Comfortable ignorance is a cancer that metastasizes as darkness in the heart. There are other people who do not fear the light, in fact they are bringers of the light, delivering groceries to the people in hiding, blowing whistles to alert the neighborhood of the presence of the monsters. They film the monsters. Their whistles and their cameras are forms of light. The sound is an alarm calling attention to the monsters, calling in the communal light. The cameras serve to lay bare the dark shadowy lies the monsters claim as truth.

I have hope that these bright lights will one day repel the masked monsters roaming the streets, monsters grown comfortable in their chains and ugly in their ignorance. Orks.

These bright lights, gathering together all across Minneapolis, the nation and the world, stoking the bright light of freedom and truth, will one day overwhelm the republican/authoritarian darkness and expose the ugliness that their leaders so desperately fear and work so hard to hide.

Helping Hands, 53.5 x 15.25IN, acrylic on canvas

read Kerri’s blogpost about HAPPY LIGHTS

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Just As It Is [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

Thirteen years into our relationship, ten years after we said, “I do,” I learned something new and startling about Kerri: she used to be a woman who wore hats.

The woman I know refuses to put on a hat. She makes a wrinkly face when I suggest she try on a hat. Even in the bitter cold she resists the warmth of a stocking cap until frostbite is imminent. She is not a woman who wears hats. She is a woman who openly disparages herself-in-hats.

Imagine my surprise, then, when in the process of cleaning out her studio closet, she pulled out multiple hat boxes. In each box, was – wait for it – a delightful hat!

It must have been the look of shock on my face that propelled her to take a step back in time and model the hats. Donning the first hat she was instantly sassy. The next made her buoyant. She turned up the brim. She pushed a hat to the back of her head. She cocked one to the side. Each hat evoked an attitude. Each hat summoned a story. A performance. An event. A meeting. A fundraiser. A photo shoot…a playful spirit.

The hats liberated her like a mask liberates an actor. Each had a unique personality and the power to infuse her with its magic persona. I saw a bit of Diane Keaton, a shade of Audrey Hepburn. I laughed and clapped at each performance. I admired the power of the hats.

In time, the hats were restored to their boxes. The woman who does not wear hats returned. She told me that it was time to move them on, to sell or donate the hats. To make space.

When we first met, in a conversation about change, she told me that she believed people do not change, rather, they become more of who they are. The masks fall away. Time and experience erodes the fortress. The armor falls off. The hats return to their boxes. What remains is beautiful just as it is, just as it always has been.

*****

(Snark Alert) And then there’s this: if you are, like me, trying to make sense of the AWOL Republican party, there can only be one of these three options for their unwillingness to do their jobs and uphold their oath to the Constitution: 1) They all appear prominently in the Epstein Files. 2) They are like their leader: puppets for Putin. Or 3) They are stealth fascists who never really believed in Democracy in the first place and had no intention of serving the Constitution. To continue supporting this authoritarian madman is political suicide yet they remain silent and, therefore, complicit. They either already know that there will never again be free and fair elections so there’s no need to worry about their precious seat – or see numbers 1 through 3 above. What else? If you see any other explanation I’d love to hear it.

read Kerri’s blogpost about HATS

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