Barbed Wire – Barrier Series, The Beginning

This post is the first in my photo/story series on my journey of healing and recovery. See the introduction and complete series at  My Healing Journey.

Barbed Wire

Barbed Wire Barrier  © 2012 Bo Mackison

“Your life with its immensity and fear . . . is alternately stone in you and star.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke, from the poem Evening

Before there was a beginning, before the crisis and a diagnosis, there was a dream.

I see the world. It is there. When I reach up, I reach into the cool air. When I look up, I see a bright blue, cloud scattered skies. Yet the world is beyond my reach. In this dream I have repeatedly, I’m trapped in a tiny enclosure, an enclosure tall on four sides, but open to the sky. I struggle to  unlock the gate. When I try to move forward, I’m blocked by a cold steel fence and chain-link wire. Barbed wire adds an extra degree of isolation.

Barbed wire – a common fence, a stereo-typical barrier.

And then I am no longer dreaming. I am living my life in slow-motion, denying there is a problem.

I know I am in a separate place. I cannot reach out to my family and friends, I cannot communicate with them. They are on the other side of the barrier, and even if I managed a whisper, no one can hear me.

I am cast in fear, held down by a weighted stone. My only relief is a connection, however slight, to the natural world. When I look out the window, it is snowy and cold, but I do look up at the sky. I can always see the sky.

The human spirit focuses on that which is beyond vision.

         — based on journal entries, October 1990.

Part 2: Boarded Window.

Heading in a New Direction

23 Lizard in Bisbee Arizona

Threatened © 2011 Bo Mackison

Let go of the need for perfection – perfection bought at a high cost. Embrace imperfection, acknowledge mistakes, claim the lessons they provide. Embrace change.   ~ Bo Mackison

I’ve had an on and off affair with the label “mental illness” — a label that defined me for many years.

I hated it; I needed it.
I pushed it away; I pulled it close.

That label deprived me of the basic experiences of choosing life and living it fully; it also allowed me to abdicate taking full responsibility for my life and the choices I made.

Behaviors, lived over years, became habits. They settled deep within me:

  • as a child when I developed highly creative but pathological methods for body, mind, and soul survival
  • as an adult while I was in the throes of deep depressions and slow recoveries,
  • while I was fighting demons from my childhood,  searching musty rooms in my mind with a dimly flickering match light.

Defenses and behaviors I erected as walls of protection were no longer functional, viable, needed, wanted. Yet, it was what I understood.

I had to let go so I could grab onto a better way. Caught in the pause between the two trapeze bars, I was  dangling in a mighty discomfiting place.

Eventually I understood that letting go of the behaviors that mark even a functional mental illness would grace me with freedoms I wanted, but hadn’t fully experienced:

  • not as a child in a puzzling environment
  • not as an adolescent who carried demons in her hand luggage wherever she wandered
  • not as an adult trying to function in the challenging world of careers and marriage-with-children, while burying the past and eventually losing the ability to even acknowledge it
  • not as a woman in the prime-time of her life who suddenly crashed head-long into reality, suffered a total collapse, and a crushing breakdown.

I worked for years to repair my body and mind; I worked even harder to repair my spirit.

Living under the shadow of the statement “I had a mental breakdown” provides a certain cover. Even after the initial stages, after in depth therapy spanning two decades, and after reclaiming a life of wholeness, doubt lingers and unwelcome questions pop up.

There is the voice that harbors deep in my sub-conscience, occasionally breaking through to my awareness. It questions my actions, my motives, my plans, my challenges, my courage, my decisions, my art, my life. It questions my EVERYTHING.

I must then re-affirm my strength, stand on firm ground, and repeat:

  • I am responsible for my thoughts, my words, my actions.
  • There is no one else to blame for my failures, short-comings, errors in judgement.
  • I take full ownership of my mistakes and claim them,  but I also claim the lessons these mistakes teach.
  • This is no excuse living.

It is hard, excruciatingly so as times. It is necessary. It is the only way.

Because as long as I blamed the past for mistakes I made in the present, as long as I didn’t acknowledge the mistakes and accept them for what they were, I did not learn the lessons. I had an excuse to push away change and healing.

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Why am I writing about this? Because during the years I focused on creating photography for public display, photographs for art shows and festivals, photographs for art centers and museum shows. I also created photography and other art as a process for healing.

Creative activities are healing. I use art and nature as components of my healing practice. I want to share my art and my story with you, my dear readers.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.  This is the first photograph in a series of twelve.

Return to the Southwest

Sycamore II

Sycamore II © 2012 Bo Mackison

Forest and field, sun and wind and sky, earth and water, all speak the same silent language, reminding the monk that he is here to develop like the things that grow all around him. ~ Thomas Merton

I have returned. Returned to Pima County, a 9,000 square mile partition of the Sonoran Desert that spans two-thirds of the southern part of Arizona.

When I am in Wisconsin, and awaiting the day I return to the Southwest, I always say I miss the desert, that I am ready to return to the desert. But upon deeper reflection, it is not only the desert I miss. I miss the huge diversity that this small part of the country has to offer. The diversity of the southern Arizona habitats.

If I begin in the far western part of Pima County, perhaps I am visiting Cabeza Prieta National Wildlife Refuge and Organ Pipe National Monument, and I then travel east to Tucson and ascend Mount Lemmon, I have traveled an equivalent distance of more than 2,200 miles in habitat. It is comparable to me traveling from northern Mexico to  southern Canada. And I can travel that in less than a half day’s time.

The part of the Southwest I call my home is part of the Sonoran Desert. Yes. But it is more than sand and cactus and rattlesnakes. It is an example of one of the most diverse ecological spaces on our planet. Not only does the area have over forty sky islands – tall mountain-islands surrounded by desert – but it is borders two diverse communities — the Rocky Mountain community to the north and the Sierra Madres to the south. Diversity abounds.

I can travel a few hours and explore six different communities — desert-scrubland (what most people call the ‘desert’), desert grasslands, oak woodlands, pine-oak woodlands, and coniferous zones, plus the riparian woodlands (seen in the picture above).

What an amazing place to explore with a camera in hand!

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She had landed back in the Southwest and is adapting to the transition between a Midwest winter and a Southwest winter.

Garden View – December’s Photo-Heart Connection

Tumacacori Garden Wall

Tumacacori Garden Wall © 2012 Bo Mackison

Let yourself be silently drawn by the stronger pull of what you really love. ~ Rumi

As I looked through the photographs I took in December in preparation for posting for the monthly photo practice, the  Photo-Heart Connection, I found a huge variety of photos. Part of the month I lived in southern Arizona and part of the month I lived in Wisconsin.

Throughout the month there were Holiday preparations and celebrations, opportunities for photos focusing on family and friends. The week before Christmas a blizzard slammed Madison, prompting a two-day snow holiday while we waited for the plows to clear a path through almost two feet of snow, and turning the city into a white wonderland. I had a lot of snow photos.

It was a telling selection when I passed by the winter scenes and gravitated to the photographs from the desert and arid regions of Arizona. I loved visiting with my family and celebrating Christmas in Wisconsin.

But I realized — I left my heart in Arizona.

 

This photo is my choice for this month’s Photo Heart Connection. I join other photographers at Kat Eye Studio and post a photo taken during the prior month that “connects with my heart” as a monthly photography practice.

I also wrote a guest blog on Kat’s site, A Year of Photo-Heart Connections, which summarizes the lessons I’ve learned while doing this photography practice.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC.

5th Annual Photo Alphabet – The Finale

W is for Wilderness and Wonder.

This is the Trail?

Palo Dura © 2010 Bo Mackison

When I want to do deep thinking, I head for quiet spaces, walk one of the trails through the wilderness. I do some of my most productive thinking here, walking alone. In this deep stillness.

My gratitude for the life I lead is huge. I stand without a movement. I speak to the Universe. I wonder. I fill with a great happiness at the wealth in my world.

As I walk in nature, my world expands. I find my place. I stand upon the Mother Earth, grounded. l connect to a greater plan for the greater good.

If you look for the truth outside yourself,
it gets farther and farther away.
Today, walking alone, I meet it everywhere I step.
It is the same as me, yet I am not it.
Only if you understand it in this way
Will you merge with the way things are.
~ Tung-Shan

X is for eXplore and eXperiment.

Gold Poppies

Poppies in Arizona © 2012 Bo Mackison

There are times when I have a photograph and I just want to play. Explore new techniques. Add and subtract, soften the focus, sharpen the focus. Experiment with colors, saturation, a different crop. It’s similar to coloring outside the lines in a coloring book, then making the sky yellow and the trees turquoise. Usually, when I change a photo extensively, I don’t keep the results. I just enjoy the process.

But once in a while, I like the result. And so I not only have a few hours of play, experimentation, exploration, I also have a fun photograph for my portfolio.

Y is for out Yonder.

Beach Boardwalk

Boardwalk at Sunrise © 2012 Bo Mackison

Sometimes it is enough to look out on a vast body of water and let the senses absorb the space. It is enough to walk along the boardwalk, aware of each step as the walkway shifts under my weight. It is enough to be at the edge of the shore when the sun rises in the East.

Z is for Zen.

Branch in Stricker's Pond

Branch in Pond © 2012 Bo Mackison

Fitting that I end the alphabet, and the year, with a contemplative photograph. I have a folder of photographs I refer to as my Zen photos, photographs I re-visit when I want to focus, settle the voices in my head, and calm my mind. This pond is only a few blocks from my home in Wisconsin. It is the pond I walk around from mid-spring through early winter. I’ve captured the pond in all seasons, in all kinds of weather, and at various times of the day.

I have photographs of the pond when it is home to Canada geese, egrets, herons, and wood ducks. I have photos when half of the pond is a white and green carpet of American lotus in blossom. But this is my favorite photograph from all of my walks – a broken branch in shallow water, shifting in the soft light from a disappearing sun. It is a late summer evening.

I take a few deep breaths, focus my attention on the lines, the colors, the beauty in the simplicity. I am thankful.

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And so ends the annual photo alphabet, and just in time too. After spending several weeks compiling the last posts, I am ever so grateful. Grateful for you, my readers. Grateful for the coming of a new year. And grateful that there are only 26 letters in the English alphabet!

Best Wishes for a Wonder-filled, Happy, and Healthy 2013!

Happy New Year! 

~ Bo