Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Holiday How-To: Remembering with light and love...making memory with mason jars!


To get your high resolution PDF kit version of this activity from 
The Creative Grief Studio, click here!


Gather all your materials!

Tools + Materials
Clear jars
Black acrylic paint
Applicator and/or brush
White ink gel pen
Stencils of holiday shapes
Tape
Floating candles
Water 

Optional
Fine point brush
Alphabet stickers
Holiday ribbon


I like taping my stencils to the jars before painting so that I can be hands free to hold the jar in place and paint. Otherwise the stencil moves around so much, it just makes a mess. Even with taping the edges like I did here, I could have used some double sided tape around the back of the stencil around the edges of the shape. Because I didn't do that, there was a gap between the edge and the surface of the jar, so the paint didn't come out with crisp edge. I ended up using a fine paint brush to hand correct the edges of each shape.


My idea of these was to write the names of our loved ones who have died. Either to ultimate use these for candlelight ceremony or to create center piece for a holiday table. For a table, this seemed a gentle way to invoke our dead loved ones and create an invitation for all who are celebrating with us in person to remember and share stories during the holiday.


The white ink gelly pens do wonderfully writing over acrylic paint. You could also use a chalkboard paint to make these and then chalk the names on and erase off when done. In that way, you could reuse the jars for various remembrances.

Ultimately, when I did the first jar below with the white ink, it worked well enough, but it seemed a little thin and didn't seem to pop enough for me.


So I decided to play with ways to apply the names. I happened to have several sets of alphabet stickers on hand. These below are mini scrabble tiles. But you could use any that you might have like paper colorful ones or metal embossed stickies. Play with what you have and see what you like.


As you can see in the photo below, they turned out great, but they still didn't look festive enough for me, so I started digging through all the various ribbons I have on hand, too!


And as you can see below, I think the ribbons really added sparkly love to them. You could use the same ribbon for all the jars or mix it up like I ended up doing.


THE RESULTS:




Hope you have enjoyed this Holiday How-To! If you have questions about this or any of my tutorials, please feel free to be in touch. And if you want the high res, printable kit version of this that we created for The Creative Grief Studio, you can get that by clicking here. If you'd like more information about our Creative Grief Support Certification Program, click here.

And know that I'm sending Reiki and love out for you and yours this holiday season. Go gently, lovies.

Miracles,
k-

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Drop of Beauty...the role of transparency

While listening to a talk from the Dalai Lama, I was struck by something he said on how having the "vulnerability of transparency" in our lives and relationships can make all the difference to the ways we experience happiness. (Total paraphrase there, but that was my take-away from it.)

It was like a brick dropping on my head.

It was like sitting at my kitchen table, thinking I was seeing nothing, doing nothing, and then noticing this little drop of quenching water that contained the reflection of my entire world, sky and all.

Transparency.

Think about it.


  • Some job you loved, felt valued as you did it, thought this was *it*! And then one day some little nagging started. There was something about the way the boys were promoted faster than the girls, but no one acknowledged it. If you asked for transparency, you became a problem. The ethics on the outside are no longer matching the ethics you carry on the inside.



  • You are living in a space and all is well, but then something happens. The garbage disposal doesn't work right one day. It gets fixed. Something else with plumbing happens. You keep telling the owner that something isn't right. They keep saying nothing's wrong or get accusatory like you are doing something. (Much later you find out there is a HUGE plumbing incompatibility with all the tree roots around the house, but the owner was a slum lord who wouldn't invest in fixing even though they knew the problem.) No transparency in the business of landlord/renter relationship.



  • Your child has died and for Christmas you decide to hang a stocking with the deceased child's name on it, same as all the other stockings hung for all the other living children who are coming to the big family holiday. But some family member picks a fight, takes the stocking down, says it is selfish of you to want that there, it is time now to "get over it" and be present for the living children only. And on and on. What is not transparent here is that the bothered family member does not want to face her own mortality; she fears death, dying, grieving; is unable or unwilling to talk with her own kids about grief, so doesn't want any mention of it anywhere. There is no transparency about what is really going on for each person, and so no one's needs are being met.


Hard to be transparent when one party can't admit or see the larger picture at play -- in any of the above situations!

When we lose the vulnerability of transparency, we are not being real with each other. Happiness is difficult to foster when transparency isn't possible. That doesn't mean that transparency makes everything happy la-la by any means!  The roots of the trees around the house are still breaking all the plumbing pipes. The fix would be messy, human, flawed, costly. The landlord would have to admit they made mis-steps in the past. The business ethics of the landlord/renter relationship would need some work. But in the end, it could be so much better for all involved.

I don't know. Maybe that's all bullshit, and things just go awry when they go awry. Or maybe they go awry because of my own inability to be transparent, too. But something in the Dalai Lama's talk about the role of transparency in happiness just really hit me to the core. There is some fundamental element there.

What about you? What are your thoughts on transparency? Have you had an experience of happiness or needs being met when engaging in transparency? Have you lost touch with happiness or had needs go unmet in spaces where you withheld transparency?

Go gently, loves!
k-

Monday, November 3, 2014

Man made amid nature

Talking with Hawk tonight about constructs. Everything is a construct. Even when you think about breaking out of the construct, you are in another construct outside the first construct. It can hurt your brain a little, but there's also a gasp of a glimpse of ... infinity ??  ... in there, too. :)

Anyway, our chat reminded me that I had these images from my hiatus last summer where I was really looking at the man made things amid nature. Little spots of co-opt'ing or cooperating with nature. Little spots of beauty that mix nature grown and invention grown things.

It got me thinking about how we, our very human selves, are making things amid nature. The nature of love, the nature of grief, the nature of being alive. *Life* -- you know, the big experience LIFE -- is a nature thing...growing, evolving, unfolding...the breath breathes us without us even paying attention half the time. And amid that process of nature, we are constantly creating things. Some like to create drama! :O Some like to create heART. :) Some like to create ... whatever they can, anything, push the limits.

And, so finally, that got me curious about what we create in the midst of grief. Meaning? Art? Tears? Ways to connect? Ways to re-member shattered pieces? A different kind of life? A deeper, softer space of BEing? A mess? It's so unique to each of us...and happening within the unique context we each have of family, friends, community, support, work, geography, everything.

The creative prompt for it goes something like this:

  • What are we creating in the grief experience?
  • Are we digging what we create? Hating what we create?
  • What is being created around us in the grief experience?
  • How do we relate to what is being created?
  • What if we want to have a different relationship to grief? Do we create differently?
  • Are the creations beauty? 
  • Do the creations serve a purpose?
  • If the creations speak, what are they saying?
  • Are the creations made during grief experience radically different than what is created other times?
  • If so, what is so different?
  • When the grief experience creations talk to, say, love experience creations, what do they say?
  • Does what we create say something about grief? about love?


I don't know...but you get the idea sort of?? Curiosity about what is man made amid nature? And if nothing else, just a notice. Noticing. Stopping long enough to notice that constructs are everywhere. There is space in any construct to stop, consider, notice, BE. At least I found that to be the case this past summer. And here are a few more of those glimpses:



Art on, Loves! Keep noticing, keep questioning, keep creating. Remember:
The Saturated Self by Kenneth J. Gergen
Miracles,
k-

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Sometimes gravity is too much, and I need the water and the sky.

Some of my favorite kinds of photos to collect are of the sky and the water. When I can be out under the sky and around water in real time, that's even better. But living in the Pacific NW means there is a certain dark season where light is limited, rain is constant, and my bod really dislikes being out in the elements. And without access to warm salt water, well, the photos serve. Gravity of being human can sometimes just feel like it is too much. And either the actually sky or large bodies of water or the photos of them give me a lovely dose -- a huge hit -- of shedding gravity long enough to keep me sane. :)
There is something about looking out over a body of water that is so much larger than self. I often imagine Puget Sound as a huge BEing. As much as I am at her edge looking at her, she is also a BEing, looking at this little spec of a woman standing at her edge, too. Can you feel the weightlessness of that?



Other times, I find that peeking over the edges of Puget Sound let me get a glimpse of a world that isn't in the same elements I'm in out here in the air. I see these little fishes going by and vision where they came from, where they are heading, what it feels like to let the Sound hold the weight of you.





Other times, I look out over the Sound and there is that magical misty quality. Veils hanging between worlds almost. There is some world beyond that mist that is even more wide open and endlessly to the horizon filled with ceaseless waters. Really, when I get into a scene like this, I can feel my Being float off into the watery air.
There are times when my body doesn't cooperate with going out to the wide open sky and land to take in what you've seen in the photos so far. But that was no problemo this past summer! See the photo below? :)  That was my Hawk bringing the cool, floating, no-gravity of water to me and my tootsies right outside the door of our house, in the sunny/shade, chair covered in soft beach towels so my nerve endings couldn't feel the wood of the chair pressing into them. Dreamy. Part of my summer hiatus happened precisely because I just never wanted to take my tootsie out of here! :)



So what about you? What is your go-to metaphor (or real live spot) for when gravity becomes too much? How do you tend when your whole body calls for floating?
Miracles,
k-

Sunday, October 26, 2014

Just sit with it.

There are days when I just can't. Can't function. Can't get my brain engaged. Can't get the pain to stop. And often when this happens, there is an old version of me (a pre-chronic-illness-me) who starts a round of head chatter about how this has to change, must make it happen, sheer will power, just do it, and all that feel-good-culture crap that works when things are all production-for-use and your body still cooperates with you. But man, when you are *not* lucky enough to engage in "just do it" anymore, well, it's a whole different world. And battering yourself even more isn't really a great option. Sometimes the better idea is so simple that you think that can't possibly work.

Sometimes all you have to do is sit. 

You can't force a perspective shift. You can't make the body be different in this moment. You can't will power your way out of anything. BUT you can sit and *notice*.  If you just sit still, the sun and sky and water move. The earth rotates. The moving is unfolding all around you.  YOU don't have to move. And, interestingly, something shifts. In you. In the still you. In the you who is doing nothing but letting the breath breathe you.

I know. I know. It sounds like hooey. It's all woo-woo, and what a crock of first world luxury. But I can't defend against all that. I can only share it as an experiment I've personally tried, in body, and it's worked. It doesn't work the way I want it to. It doesn't work because I will it to have a particular outcome. It doesn't always take the same amount of time being still. There's no real "prescription" for it. Other than just sit your butt down, breathe, notice. Nothing else. No spinning out. No qualifying what spins through. No doing. Just BEing.

As Miriam Greenspan says in her book "Healing Through The Dark Emotions"

Feeling this bad in a feel-good culture is transgressive; it goes against the grain in a culture of denial.

And actually sitting with these feelings, just allowing the breath to breathe us, and not *doing* anything is complete antithesis to industrial, consumer, capitalistic, Western culture. But again, I think it comes to this for many who find there is no other option. All I guess I'm suggesting is that we don't have to wait till there is no other option.

Instead, make it part of the practice of being human. Feel the "can't engage" space rising? Great! Use it as a signal to sit your butt down and let the breath breathe you instead of spinning even faster on the hamster wheel. Just try it. As an experiment even. Just give yourself permission to BE instead of Do. You might find it a more gentle way to actually be present with yourself and in whatever is unfolding around you.

With that thought, I'll just say: Go Gently, Loves.
Miracles,
k-

Friday, October 24, 2014

A season of random tangles...

It was great to have a whole season over the summer where the weather outside let me be barefoot, sketch pad and pens in hand to doodle away under the sun or in the shade. As we did so much with the garden this year, I was continually inspired to doodle with sprouts, roots, blooms as a theme. I continue to go through books of patterns and do Pinterest searches for doodle ideas in order to learn new ways of seeing the doodle. I try to do them as I find them, and then go off in a direction with them that is my own. Sometimes the experiment works, and sometimes not. But regardless of the result, the process of practicing really is a very Zen spot.

Last Spring, I did venture out there with a little courage and submitted a few of my doodles to Create Mixed Media when they announced they were putting together another collection of doodles. Was great fun to see their blog post (click here) saying that a couple of my pieces would be included! It looks like the book has been posted for pre-order now (click here) and will come out in December. Very exciting! :)

Anyway, so here's a little flow of pics of some of the other "season of tangles" that came:

In the one above and one below, I was playing with this trend of "dangly" tangles I'm seeing everywhere. Not quite sure I've made it my own yet, but it's a fun concept to play with in practice.

In the two tangles below, I really went back to the books I have like "Yoga For Your Brain" and "Totally Tangled" to try practicing what I see and then doing a little twist on things. I think I got more toward my own twists in this first one below:
But this next one below was pretty much pattern copy on that main piece, inner circle, there...I just couldn't figure out a unique twist for those tube-ish things. So just left it.
And then this last one below was really and truly all my own. Just a scribble and fill, see what emerges.  I'm not sure it's done, but when I got to this point with it, there was something about it.  Maybe that "calling out" feature that is repeated with the open mouths? Something. I wanted to document this stage of it anyway, even if I continue working on it. 

So that's that, lovies. Tangle On!

PS: If you haven't seen the tangle beauty of the 100 Mandalas project from Kathryn and Megan over here (click here), you must check it out. I'll have more to share in a couple weeks on this, too, but for now, go hit the like button and get inspired!
Miracles,
k-

Saturday, October 11, 2014

Ropes that bind and break.

+++

These photos made me start thinking about the ropes that bind and break. What ties us up and keeps us stuck? What loops around us til we are able to break to find a freedom we never thought possible? If we look at grief through the metaphor of ropes, what can we discover? For me, I found the ropes that bind me to be unswerving, forcing me to look at the things I would normally be averse to...and thereby breaking through to things I've never understood because I'd refused to look. Taking it to a poetic exploration looks something like what's below for me.

Don’t swerve
by Kara LC Jones
[inspired by “confusion is an asset” exercise in Walking On Alligators, p. 78]

It is so easy to turn away from it.
I don’t want to see that.
The unanswerable.
Gawd, I want nothing to do with you, The Unanswerable.
Why do you plague me?
And are you truly unanswerable?

What if I choose to NOT turn away.
I will turn off the phone and email.
Turn off the music and barrage of, “let’s just talk about this.”
Close the door to the kitchen where I could easily escape into scent and harvest.
Refuse the vision of others so readily available in print or film.
Refuse to let anything turn me away from The Unanswerable.

Looking squarely in your face: interesting. You are just a mirror.
I. Me. My whole being. My experiences here alive. ALL Unanswerable.
We create meaning to find ground, to feel balanced, to find ways of making sense, connecting with others.  It is damn scary to feel knocked about by the solar winds.  It is damn scary to accept that absolutely nothing makes “sense” but rather was simply made up by someone before you.  It is damn scary to accept that what we call connection is surface, pacifying for now, fleeting in the extreme. We came thru the birth canal alone. We go back to the dirt alone. Whatever we share along the way is great, but cliché: You can’t take it with you.  Damn scary stuff.

Is there even merit to learning to Be Present when it is All Unanswerable?
I mean we prize this.  Lean into the ungroundedness.  Be still in the chaos.  Float rather than fight tide.

But is any of it anything but an exercise in surface?  Who is to say I am any better off that way than the chaos of the ones who are actively running, addicted, hoarding, exhibiting?  Who’s to say I am any better off than then ones who swallow questioning, put their heads down, work-a-day, shelter in their homes, do jury duty without a squawk, learn to walk without raising any fuss?  Who’s to say that my choice isn’t just another in the myriad of coping mechanisms we have available to survive this barrage of being alive?

I do what I do because it feels good.
I do what I do because it is easier than trying to fit what feels good to another’s skin.
I do what I do because that is as much as I’ve learned so far.
I do what I do because I just want to escape to a world of my own making, my own word and heART.
I do what I do because The Unanswerable is ridiculously present in all things.
I do what I do because I can barely grasp the reality of what is happening to me.
I do what I do because I can barely convey to you what is happening.
I do what I do because you can barely find ways to try and understand what is happening to you, let alone whatever I try to convey about my experience.
I do what I do because, in the end, it is all ash.

The ash of my dead sons is precious to me because I am still alive and feel the empty space of them.
But when I die? The ash of me will be ground, the empty space of me filled, and there will be no one to appraise the ash of my dead sons anymore.  And so we all are ash.  It is all ash.  No more.  No less.

Always Unanswerable.

You ask, “What is the point?”
One answers, “There is no point.”
The other, “You make your own point, your own meaning.”
But I suspect neither extreme to be.  The vast range between them neither.
Rather it is Unanswerable.

And so, if I choose to be unswerving?
Then I stand full face with The Unanswerable.
And I am simply a long list of “what to do now” that stands between the first heart beat and the last.

No more.
No less.
Just now.
Till ash.

+++

Take your exploration of the ropes that bind and break in any way you wish. Photographic, poetic, music, movement, collage, whatever you wish. What do you find there?
Miracles,
k-

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Vashon Tree Art of Summer 2014


Last summer I shared the first tree art I was finding here on Vashon and translated what I was seeing into a creative prompt for you all. This summer -- and in fact, all through the year -- the tree art has continued to pop up around Vashon. It's always a little creative spark to discover one, and it leaves me wondering who creates them, who decides to take the pieces eventually? I often entertain the idea that there is a very happy squirrel somewhere who has all these little doo-dads hidden away somewhere like treasure! :) Anyway, during my summer hiatus from blogging, I was gathering more and more photos and video of the various tree art we found. So now that I'm back, posting to share them all with you. Enjoy!



Isn't this one below really amazing?! A little sea relic from way down at the waterfront, made its way up town to a tree where it got caught in a spider web. Life and death. Randomness and intention. And just beauty. I'm so haunted by this one:




Well that's that, loves! We have a mild winter coming supposedly, so I'll keep my eyes open to see if the tree art continues and share accordingly :) Sending out love and Light and Reiki as we move through this day of eclipse!
Miracles,
k-
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...

ShareThis