A Tree, a Nest, a Dream

Tree of Life ©2013 Bo Mackison

Animal Kingdom’s Tree of Life © 2013 Bo Mackison

“Without leaps of imagination or dreaming, we lose the excitement of possibilities. Dreaming, after all is a form of planning.”   ~ Gloria Steinem

It was only a few weeks ago that I spent time at Disney World with my two daughters. While there, I visited Animal Kingdom for the first time, and I saw the centerpiece of the park, a re-creation of a huge Baobab tree. The tree has over 350 animal had sculpted in its concrete bark. The leaves were individually crafted in five colors, all 103,000 of them. It was quite the tree, even if it was born of a man’s creative vision.

We didn’t spend time near the tree, and though I admired it from afar, it wasn’t until I returned to Wisconsin that my interest in this unusual Baobab heightened. I researched the history of the tree, and discovered that this particular tree is called the “Tree of Life”.

I was curious, because this tree, or actually a variation of it, appeared in a recent dream. It was one of those infrequent dreams for which I had complete recall (or so I believe) and I wrote it in detail in my journal. Now I find myself frequently replaying the dream sequence in my mind. I think it’s an interesting dream, and important, too.

And so I’m sharing…

Tree of Life - with Animal Carvings

Tree of Life – with Animal Carvings © 2013 Bo Mackison

This is my dream: I am in a nest at the top of a tree similar to the Tree of Life, so high that my nest — large and very comfy, and woven out of a soft, gauzy material resembling bubble wrap — seems to barely touch the leaves. At first I am able to lean over the nest — it is about waist-high — and see the carved animals on the tree. The animals are alive and friendly, and communicate through facial movements and eye contact. I most remember speaking to a hawk that is very near the nest.

It is a sunny day. I can see an infinite ocean from one side of the nest; the other side overlooks a deep forest, far below, just the tree tops are visible. I am alone, except for one visitor — a very large, very dark raven that has intense, emerald-green eyes.

The raven keeps coming to the nest. He circles the nest, darting about, then pecks at my head while I try to protect myself with my arms. Finally he snatches a single hair from my head and flies away. He does this repeatedly. I am fearful when the raven pecks at me and pulls my hair, but after he disappears from sight, I feel very alone and wonder if he will return.

This happens a dozen times or so. All the while, the skies gradually darken as evening approaches. Then I notice several things. The nest shape shifts and it is now very deep. I can no longer see over the sides nor communicate with the animals on the tree. I can’t see the ocean or the forest. I can only see the darkening sky. A few stars appear, and then the night sky flickers above me. I am in complete darkness except for the far away stars.

Tree of Life - with Animal Carvings

Animal Carvings © 2013 Bo Mackison

Then the raven returns. This time, he flies towards the nest from high above me, soaring in circles, drawing closer and closer. He carries a light. When he is very near, I notice his claws have turned into the hands of a human. In his hands he carries a crystal globe about the size of a large softball. The raven hovers over my nest and gently places the crystal ball into my open hands. Then he soars away.

I hold the globe – it is perfectly spherical and glowing brightly. When I look into the globe, I see a sun as it brightly illuminates the nest, my surroundings, and me.

—————–

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.  She explores wherever she travels. And occasionally her travel experiences follow her home and appear in her dreams. She still marvels at the idea of holding a crystal ball filled with sunlight.

Beyond, The World – Barrier # 9

Defaced Wall II

Beyond, The World © 2012 Bo Mackison

“Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.” ~ Hermann Hesse

(This post is the ninth in a series of my story of art and healing. See the introduction and complete series at My Healing Journey.)

When I embarked on what is now my photography business, I discovered a way to make my life meaningful. Initially, photography gave me a reason for getting up in the morning, getting out of the house, looking at my world, and finally creating something that I loved and was proud of. The healing process of creative photography. It was several years later when I discovered how to work with my photographs on a deeper level.

When I photographed this wall, I was shooting an old mission and its grounds. I came upon this wall, discovered its defaced surface, then framed a shot so I could focus on the wall and the grove of trees in the distance. Months later, as I was going through photo catalogs on my computer, I saw this particular photo and it took on a new meaning.

For me, certain photographs are like other people’s dreams. They provide symbols, metaphors, and hints of meaning. They are open for interpretation, not on a literal base, but intuitively.

In this photo, I visualized the wall as a barrier in my life. The wall prevented me from entering a lovely grove of trees, a place I longed to visit for sustenance and revival. Beyond the wall, the world opened into a sacred space of color and life, a place where nature could heal and provide strength for body, mind and spirit. I wanted to be in that grove of trees.

I visualized different scenarios in response to my quest. How could I reach that sacred space? How could I get over the wall?

  • I could scrounge for scrub wood and strong grasses, build a make-shift ladder, and climb up and over the wall.
  • I could walk along the wall until I came upon a gate or doorway, a portal into the world of greens and blues.
  • Or…I could I look at the height and thickness of the wall, and walk away, accepting defeat before I even began.

The process of visualizing my options provided much food for thought.

I now have created a set of Desert Wisdom Cards, 24 cards in all, each with a photograph and a word. I use the cards during my morning practice, focusing on the photograph and using it for inspiration and speaking to my muse. I also use the photo and the cards as prompts for journal writing, or a springboard for an art or nature project.

I discovered in the process a vehicle that provided not only a way for me to use my art for healing, but a system that also promoted problem solving and goal setting. These cards provide me with a framework in which to consider choices, make plans, and instigate changes in my life — the self discovery and healing process of in-depth creative photography.

Next: Gazing Upwards

Lemonade and Izze – Living in the Moment

Lemonade and Izze

Lemonade and Izze © 2012 Bo Mackison

A glass of lemonade and a cold bottle of Pomegranate Izze. Living in the moment — ahhh!

So this photograph of two beverages is the perfect reminder to live in the moment. It’s not every day I get to spend a couple of hours with my younger daughter – the youngest of my three kids – sitting in an outdoor cafe in Bisbee, Arizona, sipping freshly squeezed lemonade – the puckery kind – and a Pomegranate Izze. Munching on chorizo and cabbage burritos. Laughing and telling snippets of life stories – some recent, some a decade old, some two decades old. Walking along the up and down sidewalks of Bisbee Arizona, peering at the window displays of the shops and galleries, occasionally wandering through a gallery, oohing and aahing over a painting or a sculpture. So much talent! Admiring the many buildings – schools, homes, businesses – many perched in precarious positions against the mountains.

At one point our conversation drifted to Manda’s propensity for conversation when she was a toddler and preschooler. She loved nothing more than to carry on a  lengthy conversation about any topic. She was, and still is, one of the most inquisitive people I know. We played a game for several years, one I devised so that I could get some work done while still entertaining my young conversationalist. When we were talking about it the other day, we both wondered how much this game influenced Manda’s education and the way she thinks and comes up with answers.

We played our game throughout the day. It would start simply enough.

I would make an observation. “Look, the first robin of the season. The robins are back.”

My then three-year-old would say, “Where do they come back from?”

I would offer a simple explanation. “They don’t like the cold weather and snow, so they go to a warmer place during winter.”

Manda would look at me as if I had just told her the biggest whopper ever heard by a three-year old.

So I would counter offer. “Well, what do you think happens to the robins?”

And this is where the fun would begin. Looking back, I wish I had written more of her answers in my journal. Only a few were documented.  Some of her conclusions were hysterical, some were thoughtful, some were fanciful, but they all displayed a certain ability to think and be creative. What an amazing thing, yes?

Here are a few lines I once wrote about the return of the robins. After I gave her the straight answer, I would ask Manda is she could think of any other answers. She would give me one and then another, and another. The game continued until she ran out of answers or lost interest.All answers were acceptable.

“The robins go down in the holes with the rabbits.”

‘The robins fly to Grandma’s ( 300 miles south and considerably warmer) and live in her attic.”

“The robins sleep under my bed and they are very, very quiet. I only hear them when they fight.”

“The robins play hide and seek and you don’t see them. I know where they hide.”

And on and on.

Then she would go off and play. That is, until we began the next question and answer game.

——————–

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona. Visits from her family are always appreciated. 🙂

Autumn Reflections

pa182206.jpg

Reflection in Indian Lake © 2007

“Beauty is a primeval phenomenon, which itself never makes its appearance, but the reflection of which is visible in a thousand different utterances of the creative mind, and is as various as nature herself.”  ~ Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

On a calm, misty morning, these autumn colors were reflected in Indian Lake. Photographed at Indian Lake County Park in Dane County, Wisconsin as the sun peeked over the hill. October 20, 2007