A Walk through a Japanese Garden

 

Pine Point in the Japanese Garden at Chicago Botanic Gardens

Pine Point in the Japanese Garden at Chicago Botanic Gardens ©2013 Bo Mackison

“The many great gardens of the world, of literature and poetry, of painting and music, of religion and architecture, all make the point as clear as possible: The soul cannot thrive in the absence of a garden.” ~ Thomas Moore

Crossing the Arched Bridge

Crossing the Arched Bridge to the Japanese Garden ©2013 Bo Mackison

“Japanese gardens ask that you go beyond the garden spiritually, that you look at the garden not merely as an object but also as a path into the realms of spirit.”
— Makoto Ooka in The Temple in the House

Tree Roots

Tree Roots © 2013 Bo Mackison

“The garden reconciles human art and wild nature, hard work and deep pleasure, spiritual practice and the material world. It is a magical place because it is not divided.”
— Thomas Moore

Zigzag Bridge

Zigzag Bridge © 2013 Bo Mackison

“If you want to reach the infinite, then explore every aspect of the finite.”
–  Goethe 

Garden Path

Garden Path © 2013 Bo Mackison

“When a garden is used as a place to pause for thought, that is when a Zen garden comes to life. When you contemplate a garden like this it will form as lasting impression on your heart.”
— Muso Soseki in The Temple in the House

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Bo Mackison is photographer, book-maker, collector of stories, naturalist, curator and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Strolling in a garden – a perfect way to spend an afternoon. Photographs from Japanese Garden, Chicago Botanic Gardens.

Meditation on a Lotus Flower and Change

Water Lotus

Water Lotus ©2013 Bo Mackison

…the best kind of change, is the change that comes from the inside and begins its way out until it emerges on the outside; a change that is born underneath then continues and spreads until it has reached the surface. That’s a true change. A powerful change. ~ C. JoyBelle C.

A few days ago I strolled the Japanese Gardens at the Chicago Botanic Gardens. I rested on a slatted bench in the midst of a garden of water lilies, sat long enough to watch the lotus, fully open, gradually close its petals as the afternoon skies darkened. I contemplated the constant flow of rushing water in the waterfall gardens. It was a cloudy afternoon, not hot though, as a breeze blew in from Lake Michigan. Fishy air is often a part of the Chicago sensory experience. It was somehow comforting, an in-the-moment connection.

I wandered, sat, absorbed, felt surrounded and held: as I centered myself in the gardens; as I strolled, hand-in-hand with my husband of 38 years; as we sent comfort to each other in our language of hand squeezes and quiet glances.

Sherpa and I had spent the morning with his mother. It was a morning fraught with emotion and change, one of those times in life when a major life change — deeply feared — was inevitable. We were there to tell my mother-in-law that independent living was no longer an option, that her medical situation now required a move to an assisted care facility . The move was no longer a plan in the future, it was a necessity.

As I gently told her she had to move, she expressed an array of emotions – disbelief, confusion, anger, frustration, fear, denial. I watched her eyes as we talked, as she realized we couldn’t change the plans. Gradually she realized her children, doctor and the administrator of her current living situation were in agreement – she could no longer live in her apartment.

“What if I refuse?” she asked.

I held her hand and said as kindly as I could, “That’s not a choice.”

I deeply empathized with M, perhaps because I have been in similar situations — times when I grasped that I was struggling, when I needed more care than I could provide for myself, when I refused to give up control but the situation demanded another person make decisions for my care and safety. For me, those occurrences were temporary. But the feelings of knowing that one has lost their basic, decision-making powers is deeply frightening.

I don’t think I understood that this awareness was present while I was speaking to my mother-in-law, but once we left her apartment, I knew I had to find a green space to walk and process all that had transpired.

The Chicago Botanical Garden was not far from our route home, and we stopped.

I stood in the grasses of the gardens and grounded myself, visualized sending an anchor deep within the earth, visualized a calm light surrounding me from above. Re-connection.

I contemplated the lotus, a plant whose beginning are in muddied waters. The plant sends up a stalk much like an umbilical cord, its leaves open upon the water’s surface, and the flower rises above the water, opening into a magnificent blossom high above the waters.

The lotus breaks free of its muddy origins and emerges white and pure, with a brilliantly yellow pod, a tiny sun.

Change. Renewal.

Sitting on a bench and watching the open lotus slowly close as evening approached, I thought about my mother-in-law entering a new phase of her life. It was a small comfort to realize that the closed lotus flower would open again in the morning, and that M would pass through this stage of her life and eventually move into a different stage, and into her own light, in her own way.

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Bo Mackison is photographer, book-maker, collector of stories, naturalist, and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. I am also daughter in law, and I have the deepest respect for my mother-in-law, doing the best that she can in a most difficult time.

(One Too Many) Adventures at the Chicago Botanic Gardens Art Festival

Chicago Botanic Gardens Art Festival

Strolling at the Chicago Botanic Gardens Art Fair

Sherpa and I spent the weekend in Chicago. I exhibited my Seeded Earth Photography at the Chicago Botanic Gardens Art Festival. It was a rather crazy, mixed up weekend.

First we had to keep switching schedules to adapt to work schedules and show timetables. When Sherpa had a conflict on Thursday which was set-up day, my son agreed to drive me, the trailer and the art set up to Chicago on Wednesday evening. That worked out well. We had an entire evening to catch up on a few years worth of conversations.

Thursday set up went well. We set up the booth, strolled a bit through the Botanic Gardens, had a quick lunch, and Jeff was back on his way to Madison by 3 in the afternoon. Sherpa arrived later that evening to take over the assistant’s duties.

Friday again started off well. It was warm and humid, but there was no rain in the forecast until later in the evening so we were looking forward to a dry, uneventful first day of the three-day show – maybe a bit sweaty, but not rainy! The day stayed dry, but not uneventful.

We had a couple of hours of set up to do before the show began. As Sherpa and I were getting the awnings of the booth unrolled, I stepped backwards, tripped over another artist’s gear, and hit my head hard on a ladder laying in the grass. I’ll sum up the next 24 hours quickly–ambulance, ER, CAT scan, hospital admission for 24 hours’ observation for post-concussion syndrome.

Sherpa went back to the festival where employees of Amdur Productions and so many wonderful artists near my booth pitched in and set up my photography display and helped Sherpa when he needed a second pair of hands. When I was discharged from the hospital at noon on Saturday, complication-free, I went to the show and found everything in good shape. And so the rest of the show proceeded smoothly.

I want to note that I started out on this art show path with little idea of how things were going to work out. There were lots of unanswered questions, lots of risk taking, and a few sleepless nights. Sherpa and I are both lucky, because we discovered we love doing art shows. But the best benefit of being on the art fair circuit was one I had not expected.

It was meeting and becoming friends with the amazing artists at the various shows. It was getting to know the people who capably run the shows and handle emergencies in stride.

To all of you, thank you. I am so very proud to be a show circuit artist associated with such fine and caring people.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. This weekend she very briefly considered whether the life of an artist was the life for her. She answered with a resounding YES – what other life could be so fulfilling and meaningful.