<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Wed, 21 Feb 2018 20:18:57 +0000</lastBuildDate><category>Art Photography</category><category>Creative Prompts 365 Project</category><category>Art 1000 Faces</category><category>Art Digital</category><category>Creative Prompts</category><category>Grief Exploration</category><category>Grief</category><category>Creative Prompts CED</category><category>Art Journal</category><category>Meditation Exploration</category><category>Holiday</category><category>Art Sketches</category><category>Day of the Dead</category><category>Art 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Water</category><category>Gallery</category><category>Gardening</category><category>Grief Education</category><category>Group Coaching</category><category>Hunger</category><category>Inspirations</category><category>Karacaustic Style</category><category>Library Love</category><category>Meditation Live The Life You Love</category><category>Online Classes</category><category>Patti Digh</category><category>Publishing</category><category>Self Publishing</category><category>Self Talk</category><category>Show And Tell</category><category>Stop Stopping Yourself</category><category>Tech Troubles</category><category>Ulanov Quotes</category><category>Vashon Food Bank</category><category>You Have Permission Workshop</category><title>Radical Creativity</title><description>Living My Practice: Exploring Grief + Love, Life + Death</description><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>888</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-4159659631566500879</guid><pubDate>Sat, 18 Jun 2016 23:16:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-06-18T16:16:59.396-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Collage</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Digital</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Grief Studio</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Prompts</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Exploration</category><title>Mixed tapes, mixed media, the mish-mosh of a life...</title><atom:summary type="text">


The mixed tape. Was a very real thing in my youth. Is now more of a metaphor.

In my own heART and in collaboration over at the Creative Grief Studio, taking a creative approach to grief -- and all of life really -- is the foundation of my BEing. I move through the world, I enter relationships, I create heARTworks by taking a creative approach.

In my youth, the mixed tape was a most creative </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/06/mixed-tapes-mixed-media-mish-mosh-of.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QUqB4b0AlKk/V2V7rG7081I/AAAAAAAATTc/DciAnmoRQ-EmAO6zgjhJmQXNnRc49IJXgCLcB/s72-c/1578_InTheFamily_MotherHenna_w.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-4461515910810094400</guid><pubDate>Fri, 17 Jun 2016 20:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-06-17T13:09:56.978-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art 1000 Faces</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Sketches</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Barb Sher</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Grief Studio</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Prompt Scanner</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Social Justice</category><title>Star gazing, heart pounding, and love making...</title><atom:summary type="text">
   
It really is an odd thing to be human. Being active in the world of learning and social justice, we can intersect with such destruction, such oppression, and overwhelming need. And at the very same time, man, dude, loves, when we CHOOSE creative approaches; when we decide we will use technology for good; when we consciously use what is at hand to come together; well, there is such beauty </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/06/star-gazing-heart-pounding-and-love.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-awl-DicjWmk/V2JJu-h_RNI/AAAAAAAATS0/wu4RhcoxwXE/s72-c/PicsArt_06-15-11.39.14.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-5152453651150457884</guid><pubDate>Mon, 13 Jun 2016 20:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-06-13T13:15:11.287-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art 1000 Faces</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Sketches</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Social Justice</category><title>You can&#39;t pinpoint anything because it is always a range of human being-ness.</title><atom:summary type="text">
   
Okay. So if you were here yesterday for my &quot;do not fuck with me&quot; post and you are here with me today for this &quot;it is too hard. i&#39;m running way&quot; post, then you are getting to witness the full range of what it means to PROCESS, to live a life of practice not perfect. 

Look, the thing is that, we as humans, just are going to have a range of responses and actions around the lives we live. And </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/06/you-cant-pinpoint-anything-because-it.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dEAA3LyIG98/V18DV0t7v7I/AAAAAAAATRw/fZL75_AqOhA/s72-c/PicsArt_06-13-12.01.58.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-2247062923039454256</guid><pubDate>Sat, 11 Jun 2016 05:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-06-10T22:06:50.757-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Gelli Press</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Mandala</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Barb Sher</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Prompt Scanner</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Prompts Verb Tribe</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Metaphors</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Social Justice</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Patti Digh</category><title>Paper bags, throw away lives, and impossible expectations...</title><atom:summary type="text">

Couple of years ago, I took one of Patti Digh&#39;s Verb Tribe courses. The creative approach that had the most lasting impact on me was her insistence that we write our different topics each day using a sharpie pen on a paper bag. Her idea behind it was that if we get all caught up in the &quot;preciousness&quot; of &quot;good&quot; pens and &quot;quality&quot; paper and such, we set ourselves up to have to be &quot;perfect&quot; and </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/06/paper-bags-throw-away-lives-and.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DiOYLrd8D1k/V1te5WoZBqI/AAAAAAAATRE/WLxaOJDK0-Yolcrm9QSy_4KtOf1Vz77WwCLcB/s72-c/1525_mandala13_MotherHenna_w.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-6235479860749197233</guid><pubDate>Wed, 08 Jun 2016 23:48:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-06-08T18:34:15.637-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Chronic Illness</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Grief Studio</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Prompt Scanner</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Gardening</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Metaphors</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Social Justice</category><title>Dreams and intersections and blindspots...</title><atom:summary type="text">
   
Keep fooling myself into believing it&#39;s summer, and then another batch of gray, cool, sometimes wet days come and disrupt the previous few days of sun and shadow and warmth that finally got to the marrow of my bones. That&#39;s what keeps us green and all Pacific Northwest-y, I know. But man, I&#39;m sorry, I&#39;m a sun and warm ocean being. Pretty sure many past lives were lived as sea turtle or </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/06/dreams-and-intersections-and-blindspots.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/--E89JALJbno/V1NKGkIAS-I/AAAAAAAATOo/ckYDR4LMFTU/s72-c/PicsArt_06-04-02.36.39.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-7390977471311539343</guid><pubDate>Fri, 20 May 2016 22:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-05-20T17:10:47.414-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Activism</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Foodie</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Social Justice</category><title>Pain and practical guides?</title><atom:summary type="text">
 
It&#39;s been one of those weeks. Things have changed significantly since last summer health-wise. It is great to know my blood numbers are normal-ish, cells are larger/more saturated, everything shows up normal w liver, pancreas, gall, sugar, with iron levels finally getting to build without drops blah blah blah. And still, random days, random pains.

Said it before, grateful to have ways to </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/05/pain-and-practical-guides.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WhP2tBqY85w/VzuQJvSpj-I/AAAAAAAATNg/QxuoEAhkTHA/s72-c/PicsArt_05-17-02.40.26.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-3247133485413791694</guid><pubDate>Mon, 16 May 2016 22:39:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-05-16T15:39:41.380-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Book Artists Way</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Chronic Illness</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Grief Studio</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Prompt Scanner</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><title>Practice is so easy, it&#39;s hard.</title><atom:summary type="text">
   
You&#39;ll find many teachers who will tell you these things. Barb Sher will tell you to ditch the all or nothing, and just give it 5 minutes. She&#39;ll tell you to not discount anything. Wherever your interest is pulled, NOTE it!! Treat it as scientific information. You don&#39;t have to understand the mystery of it yet, but allow your interest in it to count and be noted. Give your interests 5 </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/05/practice-is-so-easy-its-hard.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-KLURAAosSNQ/VzeaY7kP0GI/AAAAAAAATNE/SkSUaVAQVj0/s72-c/PicsArt_05-14-11.52.48.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-2786342676983298290</guid><pubDate>Fri, 13 May 2016 01:01:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-05-16T16:28:46.818-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Social Justice</category><title>Hunger, ignorance, and a lack of patience</title><atom:summary type="text">
Today&#39;s post comes to you, typed one finger, on my phone, while sitting outside in the garden. It is true that technology certainly can be used for evil. But if you had told me two decades ago, I could sit here in my introverted heaven *and* connect with an audience that is potentially world wide, I&#39;d have thought you were nuts.

_____


Hawk told me about a PBS documentary he watched on guns </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/05/hunger-ignorance-and-lack-of-patience.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-snr1YHEDEQA/VzVAal3XYTI/AAAAAAAATMw/ColSZOW-WSU/s72-c/PicsArt_05-12-02.42.26.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-8125221440688395579</guid><pubDate>Wed, 11 May 2016 23:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-05-11T16:15:00.823-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Book</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Book Author</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Foodie</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Social Justice</category><title>Hungers and books and beauty</title><atom:summary type="text">
   

Sometime you wonder up a plain old driveway and discover beauty growing from the cracks between the rocks, and you just have to stop and marvel at it. This vine was at the end of the drive, just shining in all its glory yesterday eve with bright white blossoms and centers so yellow they looked like the color of egg yolks. Have no idea what they are. Anyone know?



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Just for the </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/05/hungers-and-books-and-beauty.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ueCi30LcnbA/VzOpqEuLD6I/AAAAAAAATLg/-yk2V682698/s72-c/PicsArt_05-11-02.51.48.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-1833642890029546653</guid><pubDate>Tue, 10 May 2016 16:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-05-10T09:25:38.349-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Digital</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Bitmoji</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Failure</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Exploration</category><title>What you see or don&#39;t see.</title><atom:summary type="text">
 
You&#39;d never know it, but the above piece started out as a photograph of flower stems in a blue glass bottle. Some days I don&#39;t like what I get from a shoot and so go in with digital tools to alter and push and pull and layer and filter and play. Can I call this my version of Picasso&#39;s self portrait at 90 years old? Anyway, there are metaphors in there with the heARTmaking process for how I </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/05/what-you-see-or-dont-see.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hEpiynVNkdc/VzFNG7749fI/AAAAAAAATLA/tH7ZG_c4AXM/s72-c/PicsArt_05-09-07.51.11.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-8878919193884924103</guid><pubDate>Sun, 08 May 2016 20:14:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-05-08T13:14:19.291-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Exploration</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Social Justice</category><title>Extremes, calling bullshit when I see it, and side eye...before remembering what makes me sane.</title><atom:summary type="text">

You just start to let your fingers move across the keyboard because it is the only thing that will keep you from seeking out anyone with a big phat joint that you can feel in your fingers, smell and taste as it knocks you back out to sleep, oh the romanticizing of drugs that an addict&#39;s mind will do is incredible. Of course once the tapping on the keyboard starts, you remember also the paranoia</atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/05/extremes-calling-bullshit-when-i-see-it.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rvzPwopr70A/Vy-SGFewN5I/AAAAAAAATKo/dx5ZCjYnZ-gE9M015kaWLGIFA-gqRazawCLcB/s72-c/Pattern_motherhenna_w16.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-7898266959739683973</guid><pubDate>Sat, 07 May 2016 20:13:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-05-07T13:13:04.928-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Book New Jim Crow</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Exploration</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Social Justice</category><title>There is no way that I cannot see it...</title><atom:summary type="text">
   

Dream sequences

Walking from one job to the next. Spending time walking slowly in the sun with a friend to talk and catch up. Arriving at second job which is someone&#39;s house, no one home though. Standing at this table to check my phone before digging into whatever I was to do there. And the smell of dryer sheets is overwhelming. To the point I feel nauseated and like a migraine is coming </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/05/there-is-no-way-that-i-cannot-see-it.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tC5bWkYA85k/Vy1CkmjfIpI/AAAAAAAATKI/VQ90W-L02es/s72-c/PicsArt_05-06-06.18.35.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-8726632369225475451</guid><pubDate>Fri, 06 May 2016 23:00:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-05-06T16:00:47.941-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Book</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Social Justice</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Inspirations</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Thank Yous</category><title>Starts, finish, firsts, lasts...the pacing.</title><atom:summary type="text">
  



Good finish. Have you ever thought about how odd that phrase is? The runner had a good finish to that race. Finish? Really? The runner, unless this was the last thing she&#39;ll ever do before death, isn&#39;t finished. They&#39;ll review w coach, keep stretching and practicing yoga or whatever strength stuff they do, there will be more races most likely. Finish is relative to a particular time and </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/05/starts-finish-firsts-laststhe-pacing.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-y57bIbMx93o/Vy0CLxifeeI/AAAAAAAATJ0/rfQBkq_sASM/s72-c/PicsArt_05-05-06.55.28.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-5963202643774352084</guid><pubDate>Thu, 05 May 2016 17:06:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-05-05T10:06:35.592-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Prompts Dreams</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Social Justice</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Ulanov Quotes</category><title>The new and the old</title><atom:summary type="text">
   

Wonky. Seems to be the word for this day that has just started. Already wonky. Though I can hear Hawk in my head saying, &quot;But isn&#39;t it always wonky. And so if it is always that way, then isn&#39;t that just your normal?&quot; Yeah. I love that human. 



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Dream scene I woke from was intense. On a campus somewhere, not one I&#39;ve ever seen in physical world. There was a lab/art studio that </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/05/the-new-and-old.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-GLeNFhO4PW4/Vyq8KAfroII/AAAAAAAATI4/Qri88BXD-Ik/s72-c/PicsArt_05-04-08.20.27.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-6740799882871781024</guid><pubDate>Wed, 04 May 2016 20:38:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-05-04T13:46:15.931-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Chronic Illness</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Exploration</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Metaphors</category><title>Minty fresh truths...</title><atom:summary type="text">
   
chron·ic [ˈkränik] adj.
1. (of an illness) persisting for a long time or constantly recurring. &quot;chronic bronchitis&quot;

synonyms: persistent, long-standing, long-term; 
2. (of a person) having an illness persisting for a long time or constantly recurring. &quot;a chronic asthmatic&quot;
3. (of a problem) long-lasting and difficult to eradicate. &quot;the school suffers from chronic overcrowding&quot;

synonyms: </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/05/minty-fresh-truths.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-RF_j-1Zou7s/VygVaPpiGsI/AAAAAAAATIk/Si80E-63Oew/s72-c/PicsArt_05-02-08.04.20.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-3156458915697274501</guid><pubDate>Mon, 02 May 2016 17:41:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-05-02T10:41:01.330-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Chronic Illness</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Prompt Scanner</category><title>a mass of sleep eyes and moving slowly</title><atom:summary type="text">
 
One of the most difficult creative practices for me is the practice of not getting attached to any particular part of a process. Dealing with chronic health stuff means confronting this on a regular basis. One day, things go swimmingly and ooooooh it feels great. Energy levels stay with me. Stuff gets done. It seems relatively easy to be engaged with other humans and creatures. But as with any</atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/05/a-mass-of-sleep-eyes-and-moving-slowly.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-U9SVP95nXPQ/VyeC4KathLI/AAAAAAAATIQ/P6k_aLCLBjk/s72-c/PicsArt_05-01-06.02.45.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-7944400571233696614</guid><pubDate>Sat, 30 Apr 2016 17:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-04-30T11:45:47.006-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Coaching</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Exploration</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Social Justice</category><title>Missed-takes. Cut. Don&#39;t print. Do that again!</title><atom:summary type="text">
   

There are days when I cannot escape my head. Big philosophical thoughts take over and rule the roost. There are days when people I&#39;m working with in terms of creative grief experiences or education or exploration cannot escape their heads. The trying to think it through. The trying to understand, make sense of it, figure out the &quot;right&quot; thing(s) to do. 



Thing is though, we all make </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/04/missed-takes-cut-dont-print-do-that.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-CxhXWHRUZ18/VyTiFd4vD8I/AAAAAAAATH8/HQkkUhhcXxM/s72-c/PicsArt_04-30-09.48.42.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-1987839166392178865</guid><pubDate>Fri, 29 Apr 2016 16:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-04-29T09:45:53.260-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Book New Jim Crow</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Prompt Scanner</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Social Justice</category><title>Deconstruction of being human</title><atom:summary type="text">
   

It is amazing how connected yet disconnected my mind is from my body. The body can fall into bed, beyond exhausted, aching for nothing but surrender to sleep&#39;s oblivion, but it is like the mind is clueless. The mind begins to spin beautiful blog posts on topics that my heart so wants to speak to, and the mind will continue until the ache has turned to pain and the body just shuts down. Upon</atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/04/deconstruction-of-being-human.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-8K5AtT_PrSA/VyN9sWtf0jI/AAAAAAAATHo/dBEm-bIRIsE/s72-c/PicsArt_04-29-08.28.17.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-4479400278790486022</guid><pubDate>Tue, 26 Apr 2016 16:20:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-04-26T09:20:36.225-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Films</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Prompt Music</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Films To Inspire</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><title>The bones of my body have been silkscreened.</title><atom:summary type="text">Bey&#39;s Lemonade looks unflinchingly at grief. Of all kinds. Not a day goes by that I don&#39;t think of my dead kids. And though you may not believe me, not a day goes by that I don&#39;t think of Tamir&#39;s mother, Trayvon&#39;s mother, Sandra&#39;s mother. Though you may say Bey&#39;s work is not for a white woman like me, she still has my whole entire heart for giving grief and love visible space. 
When Charles Blow </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/04/the-bones-of-my-body-have-been.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-HXJ2mPvo2-0/Vx-VUuQX2UI/AAAAAAAATG4/y--GjG29xQQ/s72-c/PicsArt_04-26-10.49.33.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-6090477264363625596</guid><pubDate>Mon, 25 Apr 2016 13:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-04-25T06:12:21.665-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Self Talk</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><title>Sparklies and Streaks</title><atom:summary type="text">Process process process, Loves. Please don&#39;t forget that being alive is all about process. Really pause and question what is happening when you hear in your own head or when others ask, &quot;What do you do?&quot; or &quot;Should I be doing more?&quot; or &quot;better?&quot;  or &quot;different?&quot; Etc. Just consider these spaces long enough to discover if they are being asked violently or non-violently. It is one thing to feel </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/04/sparklies-and-streaks.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-kLzpc1mzVlc/Vx4XtCdjB3I/AAAAAAAATGg/xBHkDOr0_RI/s72-c/PicsArt_04-25-08.43.44.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-2667865887792256644</guid><pubDate>Sun, 24 Apr 2016 12:13:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-04-24T05:13:09.493-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Grief Studio</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><title>Slow wake: one eyeball at a time...</title><atom:summary type="text">You know those long summer days where you had so much fun that you didn&#39;t notice til the next day that you are sorta water-logged and crispy at the edges of your eyes from too much sun -- but it was worth it coz the day was incredible? Yeah, that&#39;s me today. The Creative Grief Studio reTREAT group held huge transformative space all day yesterday for each other, and the creativity of heART shared </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/04/slow-wake-one-eyeball-at-time.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-tj6ytvkR2Tw/Vxy4VICLlrI/AAAAAAAATGA/cIdxo3qzGSY/s72-c/PicsArt_04-24-07.40.00.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-3620670340179298457</guid><pubDate>Sat, 23 Apr 2016 12:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-04-23T05:15:22.929-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Grief Studio</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Education</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Workshops</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><title>Don&#39;t steal the pillows</title><atom:summary type="text">Today&#39;s the day a group of us are meeting here in the Burgh to explore ideas about tending self and heARTwork as a process of personal and professional development. As usual, I&#39;m kind of a weird one and really dislike sitting in a conference room chair all day. So the space is set in a circle for all of us to have chair if we like, but also I&#39;ll be taking a few pillows from my hotel room down to </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/04/don-steal-pillows.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-guc2nQrWMJ4/VxtnWEazYOI/AAAAAAAATFs/-6RGaqU1vLo/s72-c/PicsArt_04-23-07.51.54.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-2714304582919265646</guid><pubDate>Fri, 22 Apr 2016 14:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-04-22T11:49:02.018-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Exploration</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Memorial</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><title>Side step of a swift life</title><atom:summary type="text">It all happens so fast, doesn&#39;t it? Life. That fun thing you were looking forward to doing. Even the stuff you dreaded doing or dreading while doing it. It all just keeps on moving.
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It was very difficult to understand, the week after our Kota died, that the world just goes on regardless. Watching as my feeds turn purple today, thoughtful posts shared, meaning making everywhere, and even </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/04/side-step-of-swift-life.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hmH28Vx5pes/Vxo26SHBJlI/AAAAAAAATFY/Qv35g9Z5v6s/s72-c/PicsArt_04-22-08.19.24.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-3005775933979205862</guid><pubDate>Thu, 21 Apr 2016 14:12:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-04-21T07:12:57.661-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><title>The practice of oscillation: remembering love and non-violence</title><atom:summary type="text">Not sure why it is difficult for me to remember that everything is an oscillation, but I do forget. Often. When abundances of things are unfolding and my energy is snap snap snapping, I start to want it to continue forever. And then as my energy wanes because I need to shift to slower pace to integrate all that&#39;s unfolded, I dread suddenly &quot;not being good enough&quot; to maintain the energy levels. </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/04/the-practice-of-oscillation-remembering.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4DbFQhZPVQI/Vxjf5r_9bqI/AAAAAAAATE4/INs3GSlUTeM/s72-c/PicsArt_04-21-09.03.36.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1092551819707957075.post-3342958493640262249</guid><pubDate>Wed, 20 Apr 2016 13:21:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2016-04-20T06:26:05.888-07:00</atom:updated><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Activism</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Art Photography</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Creative Prompt Selfie Compassion</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Grief Exploration</category><category domain="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#">Travel</category><title>When you SEE...</title><atom:summary type="text">It is an interesting thing to consciously enter down a road where you begin to take more than just a surface look at things. Including yourself. There was a drawing of a youngish white woman with some lettering and arrows indicating her body that declared her body is her own, not a democracy, but entirely her own. Very much yes. Though that was not aimed at me because I am not young, I still </atom:summary><link>http://motherhenna.blogspot.com/2016/04/when-you-see.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Kara Chipoletti Jones)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ikoyrDDbdF4/VxeCVKA33kI/AAAAAAAATEk/5ezlQqzz1Tk/s72-c/PicsArt_04-19-05.12.59.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item></channel></rss>