Abandoned Door – A Metaphor for Transition

Abandoned

Someone, and no matter who, inhabits my head like it’s an empty house, he enters, he leaves, he bangs each door behind him, powerless I put up with this ruckus.
Someone, and maybe it’s me, palms my most private thoughts, he crumples them, returns them to dust.
Someone, and it’s much later now, slowly walks across the room and, not seeing me, stops to contemplate the havoc.
Someone, and no matter where, collects the pieces of my shadow.
~ Claude Estaban, translated by Joanie Mackowski

Many photographers have an affinity and passion for capturing doors as a subject in their art.

Doors are a popular subject, their metaphorical power captures our imagination, wonder, and sense of questioning, too.

Locked? Unlocked? Barred? Ajar? Abandoned?

So many questions. Doors symbolize a transition, a passage, entering from light into dark, or the opposite, leaving by way of a door, and entering into light from a dark interior. The bride once was carried across the threshold of her new home by her new husband. There are doors guarded by fierce creatures – temples come to mind, but I have seen many a library graced with twin, growling lions, or even scarier creatures.

I photographed this door on an abandoned farmstead in eastern Pennsylvania a few years ago.

I cataloged and labeled it, but only recently pulled it out for a serious look. I fell in love with the greens and reds, with the combination of the parallel slats and the vertical panels on the door. And I liked the way nature was gradually taking over the man-made structure, adding to the abandoned feeling.

Do you photograph doors, or notice doors, or use doors in your art or writing?

Do you ever focus on other passages or transitions — gates, windows, tunnels, stairways?  Places that lead to other spaces?

Courage – A Desert Wisdom Card

Mission San Cayetano de Calabazas

Crossing the Threshold © 2013 Bo Mackison

We gain strength, and courage, and confidence by each experience in which we really stop to look fear in the face . . . we must do that which we think we cannot. ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

When experiencing disappointment or loss, it is natural to seek a counterbalance, a positive action to balance the negative.

The counterbalance of fear is courage. Crossing a threshold into a dark unknown space can evoke fears. But even in the darkest of spaces, we have an ability no one can take away. The choice of how we react, what we think, what we choose to say.

The courage to imagine the otherwise is our greatest resource. . . ~Daniel J Boorstin

Even in the darkest of spaces, we can imagine a star-filled universe, the constancy of waves sweeping a sandy beach, a window with a view of a fruit-filled orchard. We can appreciate the light because we have an understanding of the dark.

Courage and perseverance have a magical talisman, before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish into air. ~ John Quincy Adams

COURAGE offers questions/reflections for journal, art prompts, and calls to action:

  • Crossing a significant life threshold takes courage. When the choice is happily anticipated, enthusiasm for the change lessens, though doesn’t alleviate, fear of the unknown. When crossing a threshold brings about unwanted or unplanned changes, courage and determination help balance our fears. Consider thresholds you have crossed – a job change, new responsibilities, a birth, a death, a move. How do you respond to changes in your life?
  • Once fear is identified as a limiting factor, action can defuse this emotion. Courage is answering the questions: “Why am I afraid?” “What can I do to face my fear?”
  • Though John Quincy Adam’s refers to the invisible “magical talisman” of courage and perseverance, it is often helpful to have a physical object as a reminder. One of the simplest talismans to create is a small rock inscribed with a message. Examine your environment for small rocks until you find a rock that feels right. Paint it a bright color or leave it natural. Use a permanent marker to inscribe the word COURAGE on its surface. Carry it in your pocket or place in your work area or bed side table as a reminder.
  • Practice courage in small doses by doing an activity that is not routine. Take a different route to work or the store. Shop in a local market rather than your nearby mega-grocery store. Eat a sack lunch on a park bench instead of eating from a fast food drive-through. Say hello to strangers, meet them eye-to-eye, and smile. These small acts may not seem courageous, but by moving out of your comfort zone, you will stretch the muscles that feed your courage.

————–

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.  Bo is creating a deck of Desert Wisdom Cards for self-exploration and discovery using her photography and the Sonoran Desert theme – its myths and stories, cultures and history, and the desert’s remarkable natural beauty and resources.

 

Unlock the Art – Barrier Series # 6

Bisbee Arizona

Art Lives © 2012 Bo Mackison

 This post is the sixth in a series of my story, an intimate exploration of art and healing. See the introduction and complete series at My Healing Journey

“Art teaches nothing, except the significance of life.” ~ Henry Miller

After I’d stabilized and no longer needed the quiet and non-stimulation of the Quiet Room environment, my doctor transferred me to a regular room on a locked unit. This unit, designed for protection of the patients, did so with a minimalist approach. Anything deemed dangerous was contraband. A good rule of thumb – if an item could have posed a danger to a curious, unsupervised two-year old, it was off-limits.

A locked unit in a psychiatric unit, especially one on the sixth floor of a multi-story facility with no access to the outside was a stark existence. Boredom was rampant. Angry outbursts from patients, or the television set or perhaps angry patients fighting over the television set were standard fare. It was the way of the system.

The locked unit was a transition phase prior to transfer to the treatment unit which offered occupational therapy, art therapy, music therapy, and a variety of classes that helped patients transfer to out-patient programs.

Enter my guardian angel in the person of an Occupational Therapist, a woman named El. She looked beyond the angry, confused person that was me, and saw the glimmer of potential. El took me under her wing, and quickly assessed that the best to connect with me in my fragile state of anger and despondency was with massive doses of all kinds of art and writing.

She was right.

“Art is not a part of life, it is not an addition to life, it is the essence of those pieces of us that make us fulfilled. That give us hope. That give us dreams…” ~ Hasan Davis

We began with the simplest of media – paper and glue. Until I earned off-unit privileges, I did projects in the patients’ lounge or in my room. El brought in a stack of magazines, a large piece of paper, and a glue stick. I began with collages – torn pictures and words were a great match for my state of mind. At first, the mere act of tearing the magazine pages into hundreds of strips provided an energy outlet. Gradually I worked to combine pictures and words which provided an outlet for my emotions.

El explained what I needed to do so that I could accompany her to the off unit therapy room – a room offering art of all sorts. I was eager to expand my art opportunities and my privileges to be off unit.

It would prove to be a pivotal experience, one that opened my eyes to the miracle of creating and set me on the road of healing.

– these experiences are based on journal entries, 1990-91

Next: A Riot of Art

Sunday Series – Historic Log Church

Praire Land on Hauge Log Church Property, Church Visible on Hilltop

Hauge Log Church above the Prairie © 2012 Bo Mackison

I am trying to teach my mind
To bear the long slow growth
of the fields, and to sing
of its passing while it waits…
~ Wendell Berry

Hauge Log Church - Exterior and Door

The Door of the Hauge Log Church  © 2012 Bo Mackison

Everyone needs beauty as well as bread,
places to play in and pray in,
where nature may heal and give strength
to body and soul alike.  ~ John Muir

Hauge Log Church - Exterior

Hauge Log Church – Church on a Hill Overlooking the Prairie © 2012 Bo Mackison

Be faithful to that which exists within yourself. ~ Andre Gide

Gray-headed Coneflower

Gray-headed Coneflower in the Hauge Log Church’s Prairie  © 2012 Bo Mackison

Notice how present a flower is, how surrendered to life it is. ~ Eckhardt Tolle

Hauge Log Church - Main Floor Interior and Pulpit, Photographed from Rear of Church

Hauge Log Church – Simple Interior © 2012 Bo Mackison.

A moment of self-compassion can change your entire day. A string of such moments can change the course of your entire life.  ~ Christopher K. Germer

Hauge Log Church - Front Window and Pulpit

Hauge Log Church’s Pulpit © 2012 Bo Mackison

Read not to contradict and confute, not to believe and take for granted, not to find talk and discourse, but to weigh and consider.  ~  Sir Francis Bacon

Hauge Log Church - Rear Balcony with Window and Four Rows of Pews

Balcony of the Hauge Log Church with Window and Pews © 2012 Bo Mackison

In wisdom gathered over time I have found that every experience is a form of exploration. ~ Ansel Adams

Hauge Log Church - Outside Grounds, Swing and Cemetery

Swing and Cemetery at the Hauge Log Church © 2012 Bo Mackison

You don’t get to choose how you die or when, you can only decide how you are going to live. ~ Joan Baez

———————-

Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. On Sundays, Bo shares a series of photographs and quotes she finds meaningful. This photo series is of the Historic Hauge Log Church and its adjacent lands. The church was built in Dane County, Wisconsin in 1852. It is on the National Register of Historic Places and its upkeep is provided by a group of dedicated volunteers.

Abandoned, Like an Empty House

Abandoned

Abandoned © 2012 Bo Mackison

Someone, and no matter who, inhabits my head like it’s an empty house, he enters, he leaves, he bangs each door behind him, powerless I put up with this ruckus.
Someone, and maybe it’s me, palms my most private thoughts, he crumples them, returns them to dust.
Someone, and it’s much later now, slowly walks across the room and, not seeing me, stops to contemplate the havoc.
Someone, and no matter where, collects the pieces of my shadow.

~ Claude Estaban, translated from the French by Joanie Mackowski

I am not in a minority when it comes to photographers, and perhaps other 2D artists as well, who have an affinity and passion for capturing doors as the main subject in some of their art. Doors are a popular subject, their metaphorical power captures our imagination and sense of discovery, too.

“What is behind that door? Why was it abandoned? Is it locked?” So many questions starts the imagination engines churning in the mind.

And the symbolism. I think in almost every culture, there is meaning in doors. As a transition, as a passage, entering from light into dark, or the opposite, leaving by way of a door, and entering into light from a dark interior. The bride once was carried across the threshold of her new home by her new husband. There are doors guarded by fierce creatures – temples come to mind, but I have seen many a library graced with twin, growling lions, or even scarier creatures.

I found this door on an abandoned farmstead in eastern Pennsylvania a few years ago. I catalogued and labeled it, but only recently pulled it out for a serious look. I immediately feel in love with the greens and reds, with the combination of the parallel slats and the vertical panels on the door. And I liked the way nature is gradually taking over the man-made structure, and adding to its abandoned feeling. Even in a color-coordinated way!

Do you photograph doors, or notice doors, or use doors in your art? Do you focus on other passages or transition architecture — gates, windows, tunnels, stairs?

———–

Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She loves photographing doors, windows, stairways, gates, and other places that lead to other spaces.