The Journey Between Two Homes – A Poem

April 13, 2016 by Leave a Comment

Book Making in the Sonoran Desert - Flying Across the Sky

Dichotomy

Flying. I request a next-to-the-window seat. Always.
So I can stare into the sky, lose myself in thick cloud cover, or watch the country far below,
farmland platted in tiny squares, river snakes,
mountains erupting from plains, sunlight slides across the face of the earth, disappears.

I watch cities and towns morph into bullets of lights.

Each time I board a plane, I haul my soul into the heavens
breathe with calm intention until I reconnect with land, my return,
my soul again searches for desert red. And settles.

Book Making in the Sonoran Desert - Flying Across the Sky

There are no guarantees.
I came to the desert Southwest for its sunshine years ago,
sunlight that promised to flip a switch in my brain, drench it in
neurotransmitters, make smiling easier than weeping.

I come still.

For that sunlight boost, yes, but just as much
I come for the tree cholla with golden auras
gleaming in the waning sun, beyond breathtaking.
Reflection of sunlight burrows deep into my being.

Saguaro with a freakish coat of snow are as mystical.
Desert mountains – green riparian corridors,
yellow in a blaze of autumn sycamore leaves,
or black in the desert night –  all are my magical potion.

Book Making in the Sonoran Desert - Flying Across the Sky

I talk to trees. Tree connection is energy.
I rest my hands upon their bark, lay my cheek against their rough grain.

I have leaned the art of calming under the influence of this land –
sky islands stretch – from Sonoran Desert habitat, saguaros and mesquite,
to near alpine conditions, bald rock above the treeline of firs.
Like traveling from northern Mexico to southern Canada.

But always. Always.
I yearn to return to the desert floor, to the spaciousness
and solitude that warm my spirit.

Book Making in the Sonoran Desert - Flying Across the Sky

Moments measure time; maps measure travel.
As desert spring blasts its way into desert summer,
comes my time to leave the desert.
Each moment becomes more precious as I cross off the remaining days.

I spread maps upon my desk and ponder routes,
choose the blue roads, the dotted roads,
roads with mountain passes that may or may not be snow-packed.

I’ll take that risk. I travel the small towns and villages,
stay in court motels, feast at diners where conversation never stops.

This is the way of easing into my return.

Book Making in the Sonoran Desert - Flying Across the Sky

The journey. I anticipate it even as I mourn my leaving.
Anticipation and loss held simultaneously.
I’ll hold the days of travel in my memory,
scribble in my journal as I cross the country.

Place notes. A town and its motto, the population,
a story-telling hand painted poster in a shop window

The washes and dry river beds I cross.
Dead Wash. Red Wash. Car Wash. Dirty Laundry River.
Humor found in geographical monikers.

Washes disappear, meandering creeks appear,
then singing streams, raging flood-stage rivers.

As I travel, mapping the earth,
there is joyful, bittersweet.
Palpable. My heart pounds with unexpected sights.

I am exultant and saddened, hesitant and expectant.
I want to slow and speed time concurrently.
There is much to practice, this being in the moment of traveling.

Journey between two homes.

~~~~~~

Flying Across the Sky

Flying Across the Sky © 2014 Bo Mackison

There was an afternoon when the desert floor was still and heat rose like fire. I went to a nearby sky island to write and create…and to explore my desire to be in two places at once – to be in the desert where I feel a deep, soul connection and be with my loved ones in Wisconsin.

A book and poem were born.

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The Story of My Healing Journey and The Restorative Power of Art – “The Barrier Series”

July 16, 2014 by 2 Comments
healing-journey

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 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 strategies 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’ve 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.

It took many years for me to understand that letting go of behaviors that mark even a functioning mental illness would grace me with the freedom I yearned for, 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 life who suddenly crashed head-long into reality and suffered through 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” provided 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 harbored deep in my subconscious that occasionally breaks through. It questions my actions, my motives, my plans, my challenges, my courage, my decisions, my art, my life. It questions my EVERYTHING.

Then, once again, I must re-affirm my strength, stand firm, 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 learned.
  • This is no excuse living.

It was hard, excruciatingly so at times. It was necessary. It was the only way. And it remains so.

Because as long as I blame the past for mistakes I make in the present, as long as I don’t acknowledge mistakes and accept them as the learning experiences they are, I do not learn the lessons. I have an excuse to push away change and healing.

power-of-art

Art Heals! © 2013 Bo Mackison

Why am I writing about this?

Because while I created photographs for public presentations, photographs for art shows and festivals, photographs for art centers and museum shows, I also created photography, did art as a healing practice, and spent much time reconnecting with the natural world. This continues as my daily practice.

Creative activities are healing.

I believe nature offers opportunities for connection, the arts offer opportunities for self-expression, and life offers continued opportunities for growth and self-discovery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next weeks, I’ll be re-posting an 11-part series I first ran in January, 2013 on art and healing. Feeling somewhat vulnerable doing this once again, but this message is too important to keep buried in the bowels of my blog. It is my hope that my journey will also inspire others. We are all on a journey of one kind or another. We are all pilgrims following our path.

Filed Under: Art of Healing, Photography Tagged With: , , , , ,

Bookmaking in the Sonoran Desert – Featuring Journey and Discovery

April 17, 2014 by 1 Comment
Flying Across the Sky

Flying Across the Sky © 2014 Bo Mackison

“Real travel is not about the highlights with which you dazzle your friends once you’re home. It’s about the loneliness, the solitude, the evenings spent by yourself, pining to be somewhere else. Those are the moments of true value. You feel half proud of them and half ashamed and you hold them to your heart.” ~ Tahir Shah

There was an afternoon when the desert floor was still and heat rose like fire.

I packed a bag with supplies and traveled to Madera Canyon, found an isolated site high in the Santa Rita Mountains, with the summit of Mt Wrightson in view, and there I spread out paper and magazines, scissors and glue. And readied to create.

I typically work quickly, intuitively.

But on this April afternoon I had a dear companion with me, and she is more meticulous, more exact in her creative pursuits. And so I slowed my pace and we worked companionably together.

My tiny accordion book, set into a pair of four-inch square canvas boards, started out simple. As I worked the layers became more complicated. I hid parts I wanted to let disappear into the past, and added features I wanted to remember.

The little book eventually told a part of my story, my Arizona-Wisconsin dichotomy.

I explored my desire to be in two places at the same time – to remain in the desert where I feel a deep, soul connection,  yet also to be with my loved ones in Wisconsin.

Impossible in life, but not impossible in my art.

Book Making in the Sonoran Desert - Flying Across the Sky

Flying Across the Sky © 2014 Bo Mackison

“…flying is like throwing your soul into the heavens and racing to catch it as it falls.” ~ Linda Howard

Dichotomy

Flying. I request a next-to-the-window seat. Always.
So I can stare into the sky, lose myself in thick cloud cover, or watch the country far below,
farmland platted in tiny squares, river snakes,
mountains rise from plains, sunlight slides across the face of the earth, then disappears.

I watch cities and towns morph into dots of lights.
Each time I board a plane, it’s as if I toss my soul towards the heavens,
then breathe with calm intention ’til I reconnect with land
and my soul again searches for desert red. And settles.

Book Making in the Sonoran Desert - Flying Across the Sky

Tree Cholla, Snowy Saguaro, Monument Valley © 2014 Bo Mackison

“Over the years, one comes to measure a place, too, not just for the beauty it may give, the balminess of its breezes, the insouciance and relaxation it encourages, the sublime pleasures it offers, but for what it teaches. The way in which it alters our perception of the human. It is not so much that you want to return to indifferent or difficult places, but that you want to not forget.” ~ Barry Lopez

There are no guarantees.
I’ll readily admit, I came to the desert Southwest for its healing sunshine,
sunlight that could flip a switch in my brain, drench it in
neurotransmitters to make smiling easier than weeping.

I continue to come for that boost, and yes, tree cholla with
golden auras gleaming in the waning sun are also beyond breathtaking.
Reflecting sunlight burrows deep into my being.

Saguaro with a freakish coat of snow are equally mystical.
Desert mountains – green with riparian water, yellow in a blaze of autumn sycamore leaves,
or black in the desert night – they are all magical.

Book Making in the Sonoran Desert - Flying Across the Sky

Calming, Influence, Aspen Smile © 2014 Bo Mackison

“To be at peace, does not mean that you are amiss of every storm, it only means that you can find a calm within the storm.”
~ Tania Elizabeth

I talk to trees. The connection is energy,
I rest my hands upon their bark, lay my cheek against their rough grain.

I have leaned the art of calming under the influence of this land –
sky islands stretch – from Lower Sonoran Desert habitat dotted with saguaros
to near alpine conditions, bald rock dotted with firs.
Akin to traveling from Northern Mexico to southern Canada.

But always. Always.
I yearn to return to the desert floor, to the spaciousness and solitude that warm my spirit.

Book Making in the Sonoran Desert - Flying Across the Sky

Map, Yellow Car, Arizona Plates © 2014 Bo Mackison

“A map does not just chart, it unlocks and formulates meaning; it forms bridges between here and there, between disparate ideas that we did not know were previously connected.” ~ Reif Larsen

Moments measure time; maps measure travel.
As desert spring blasts its way into desert summer,
my time to leave the desert approaches.
Each moment becomes more precious as I cross off the remaining days.

I spread maps upon my desk and ponder routes,
choose the blue roads, the dotted roads, roads that may or may not be passable.
I’ll take that risk. Travel the small towns and villages,
stay in court motels, feast at diners with the locals.

It is my way of easing into my return.

Book Making in the Sonoran Desert - Flying Across the Sky

Journey, the Journal © 2014 Bo Mackison

“…where paths that have an affinity for each other intersect, the whole world looks like home, for a time.” ~ Hermann Hesse

The journey, I anticipate it even as I mourn my leaving.
Anticipation and loss held simultaneously.
I’ll hold the days of travel in my memory, scribble in my journal as the miles accumulate.
Nearly illegible, though, since I keep my focus on the road as I scrawl my notes.

These are brief notes, triggers for later transcription –
a name of a town, the population, a hand painted sign that tells a story.

The washes and dry river beds I cross.
Dead Wash. Red Wash. Car Wash. Dirty Laundry River.
Humor abounds in geographical monikers.

Washes gradually turn into meandering creeks,
then into singing streams and raging rivers.

As I travel, mapping the earth,
it is joyful, yet bittersweet.
Palpable. My heart pounds with the unexpected sights.

I am exultant and saddened, hesitant and expectant.
I want to slow and speed time concurrently.
There is much to practice, this being in the moment of traveling.

That is my journey.

Filed Under: Art of Healing, Book Arts, Writing Practices Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , ,

6th Annual Photo Alphabet – The Finale – Universe to Zip A Dee Doo Dah

December 31, 2013 by 5 Comments

U is for the Universe.

Kitt Peak

See the Universe @ 2013 Bo Mackison

No place better to view the distant Universe than an observatory on the peak of a dark mountain.

We arrived at the Kitt Peak National Observatories in southern Arizona in mid afternoon, and stood amidst the dozens of observatories, home to a variety of telescopes. Scientists from all over the globe come here to study the Universe and beyond. My daughter, who was visiting from Wisconsin, and I were eager to participate in the Night Observing Program.

Huddled together in the dark confines of a small observatory, our group of fifteen took turns peering into a powerful telescope. We viewed Jupiter and her moons, double stars, the rings of Saturn. It was a thrilling experience, especially the realization that we could see the rings of Saturn with our eyes, using only optical instruments.

It was an amazing visual connection.

It was a cold night on top of the 10,000+ foot peak in February. We didn’t linger outside, rather we settled in a warm classroom and listened to a short program by a visiting astronomer. I still haven’t forgotten his closing words. After describing the evolution of the solar system and showing us stunning photographs of the heavens, he simply said:

“You are all stardust. You are all bits of star light.”

~~~~~

V is for Vines.

Rusty Red

The View @ 2008 Bo Mackison

This photograph of a rusty barn, covered with bare climbing vines, was one of my early favorites.

It was also my first published photograph, printed in an award-winning magazine, Wisconsin People and Ideas. It was my first inkling that others found my photographs interesting.

The composition and subject were simple – an open window, the view partially obscured by a tangle of vines, a tin roof with rusty patina, a hint of shingles and red paint, a lightning rod to ward off danger, the bare winter branches.

A study of lines and mood, a feel of wabi-sabi. A hint of things to come, the hallmark of many of my later photographs.

It remains one of my favorites, still.

~~~~~

W is for Words and Wisdom Cards.

IMG_4512-Edit

Words © 2013 Bo Mackison

In March of this year, I created my first Desert Wisdom Card.

The card’s theme was PLAY and I included a photo of a bunch of pottery jackrabbits playing musical instruments. Every time I looked this photograph, I smiled, it was that kind of photo. I wanted to share that feeling, so I posted the photo and musings about play on my blog.

By the end of June, my first Desert Wisdom Card Set, 24 cards in all, was complete.

During the summer, I experimented with many ways to create an art edition of the Desert Cards. At a friend’s invitation, I attended a book structures workshop taught by Jackie Hefty at her Whispering Woodlands Studio, just west of Madison. I was enchanted by Jackie’s hand-crafted books, many composed with letterpress printing.

When we toured her studio, I discovered her letterpress printer — it was love at first sight!

IMG_4517-Edit

Imagination – Perseverance ©2013 Bo Mackison

When I told Jackie I wanted to print my wisdom cards, she offered to mentor me in the ways of the letterpress. I learned to set type on a composing stick, tie type, set type on the letterpress bed, and clean and work a letterpress. I printed the first set of cards, one page at a time. It was a  Zen experience. Simple yet precise, rhythmic, slow art.

I took photos to document the process, and photographed two lines of type which I had tied together. (When I set the words on the press, I separated the words and printed two words on a single sheet of paper.

Unintentionally, I had bundled the words “imagination” and “perseverance” together.

I loved the serendipity of that combination, reflecting on the journey of the Wisdom Cards — from a vision in my imagination to their physical creation, a path which required a lot of perseverance along the way.

Since publication, I’ve been honored to send 20 of the 26 sets of the hand created cards to new owners.

Recently, I printed a second series of Desert Cards.

This set of 16 cards, all new words, new photographs, can be used as companion cards to the original set, or as a set on their own. They will be available in early 2014.

The Wisdom Cards set me in motion a new path.

Inspired by the desert and her wisdom, I am currently planning new ways of combining those passions with my love of photography and wordsmithing. Complete details coming in January. (It’s going to be a very busy time in the desert.)

~~~~~

X is for eXploration.

Creative Cairn

Explore @ 2012 Bo Mackison

“The seeker embarks on a journey to find what he wants and discovers, along the way, what he needs.”
~ Wally Lamb

It was all about my constant yearning to explore.

My desire to walk the crooked path, inch along the mountain ledge, cross the desert arroyo, discover the hidden in the foggy forest, has led me to many places of discovery. Places that I fall in love with, places that continue to teach me valuable lessons, places that open my mind, my heart, my spirit.

~~~

Y is for Yucca.

Yucca

Yucca Shadow @ 2013 Bo Mackison

“It is … through the world of the imagination which takes us beyond the restrictions of provable fact, that we touch the hem of truth.”
~ Madeleine L’Engle

Yucca is my reminder.

There are sharp points along the way. There are shadows mingled with sunlight. There is beauty in the common. There is life in the desert.

~~~

Z is for Zip A Dee Doo Dah.

Canopy Hike - Swinging

Zip Line @ 2011 Bo Mackison

There are times to honor with celebration – celebrate with a song and a leap and a zip a dee doo dah!

Celebrate changes. Celebrate who I am today.

How have I changed from the person I was a year ago?

Am I more courageous? Am I open to new and exciting opportunities?  Yes, I am.

Did I learn how to gently grow my business while keeping it within my comfort zone, within my do-ablility?  Yes, I did.

Am I capable, am I strong? Yes. Yes, I am.

Not perfectly. Not without many falters and missteps. But I am calling progress what it is — PROGRESS. I am owning not only my failures, but also my successes.

It is s a time for celebration. As the time approaches to say farewell to 2013, I choose to leap upon the zip line, with a cheer for the new year,

“Zip a Dee Doo Dah!”

~~~

Thus ends my annual photo alphabet for 2013.

Thank you.

I am ever so grateful to have the privilege and gift of time to reflect over the past year, and bring these photographs and words together in an end of the year tribute. Grateful for you, my readers. Grateful for the coming of the New Year.

Farewell, 2013. Welcome, 2014.

May the coming year be one of much wisdom, delight, and blessings for all.


Happy New Year! 

~ Bo

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6th Annnual Photo Alphabet – Invitation to Labyrinth

December 28, 2013 by 2 Comments

I is for Invitation

Central Park, New York City

Invitation to Sit a Spell © 2013 Bo Mackison

When I see a bench in a garden, it’s an invitation for me to slow down and sit for a while.

“Dawdling” my grandfather would have said, but gardens are meant for strolling, sauntering, absorbing, meditating, observing. I always think a garden bench is the fine invitation to stop and sit a spell.

~~~

J is for Journeys.

Pictograh by Native American Artist, Agate Fossil Beds National Monument Visitor Center

Journey Life Map 2013 Bo Mackison

On my cross-country trip last May, I stopped at Agate Fossil Beds National Monument in Nebraska.

The ranger spoke extensively of this replica pictograph created the Lakota Sioux. A single drawing, the most significant of happenings, would summarize a year or a decade or even a hundred years. Over time the Lakota told their story in a spiral of tiny drawings.

Their journey begins with a simple drawing, representing the creation of the world.

Next is a drawing of a mastodon, then the animal’s fossilized bones. Hundreds of drawings make up the pictograph, drawn on animal skin. It is a pictorial map of their history.

Wouldn’t it be an impressive project to capture memories passed down from our ancestors, add our own, and create a spiral map like this.

It would be an illustrated, spiraling journey of a family.

~~~

K is for Kettle.

Marigold Teapot

Kettle © 2012 Bo Mackison

There are times when nothing will do except to put the kettle on and brew a pot of tea.

If I’m in the mood for to settle into a good book, or write a few letters, or perhaps I just want to sit and daydream, a cup of tea is always a welcome addition. And the brewing of the tea itself is one of the best mindfulness practices I know.

A slow practice, a sacred ritual.

~~~

L is for Labyrinth.

Turns on a Labyrinth

Labyrinth © 2013 Bo Mackison

I am a seeker of labyrinths.

I walked a labyrinth on the edge of the Sonoran Desert in early spring. What an extraordinary experience, connecting with the rhythm of the labyrinth pattern. Now I seek other labyrinths to walk. I journal after walking the labyrinth, and then I work my journal writing into poetry. Here is one from earlier this year:

Labyrinth, A Journey

I walk in circles, around and back, around and forth.

There is beginning, middle, end.

Guided by lines of crooked rocks,
an invisible hand on my shoulder,
encourages me, presses me onward.

Take a step,
One more turn,
Approach the center.

And there I stand immobile, my breath fragmented.

The labyrinth’s center, a large pock-marked rock
resting place for mementos and memento mori
small rocks, rings and bracelets, dog tags, holy cards.

Center – the farthest distance from beginning or end.

I move on.
But no longer do I walk a meditative pace.

I am anxious to leave,
ready to bolt, yet
I do not disregard the worn path
the labyrinth’s unspoken boundary.

I stumble to its exit, blinded, my feet guided by the rocky lines,
expelled from its sacred interior
into the other world. My world.

A ghost keeps vigil, its eyes the eyes of the cactus wren
perched on the spire of a tree cholla.
Its whisper, low and moaning, travels the arroyo
carried on swirling winds.

~~~

Want to read Part II? Here it is — Elephants to Highways

Coming tomorrow, Part IV :  Metaphors to Place

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