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6th Annual Photo Alphabet – Metaphors to Place

December 29, 2013 by Bo Mackison 1 Comment

M is for Metaphors.

https://vbmotorworld.com/cgiteyvpx Much is happening in the coming year. For the past year, I’ve been defining myself and my work, considering who my “perfect people” are – those who most connect with my work – and what I might offer of value.

And so I offer my first online workshop.

https://livingpraying.com/86yahhat4ck Photography and Metaphor: A Springboard into Self-Expression and Exploration will take place in February 2014. https://traffordhistory.org/lookingback/fb733je

https://www.thoughtleaderlife.com/6a8lbjv We will focus on making photographs to use as metaphors. Then we’ll use our “photo metaphors” as creative springboards into contemplative writing and other expressive arts projects.

https://www.thephysicaltherapyadvisor.com/2024/09/18/ftilxk47i6 Details and registration information will be announced in early January.

follow site https://www.modulocapital.com.br/6ndavc3wgz7 ~~~

N is for National Parks.

I have a deep and lengthy love affair with the National Parks and Monuments.

https://trevabrandonscharf.com/6rp762in6p1 I visited many National Parks on family vacations in the 1960s. Sherpa and I spent our honeymoon at a national park. When our children were of a long distance traveling age, we assembled our family of five and took three-week long, cross-country trips, exploring and camping at National Parks and Monuments whenever we could. Sherpa and I still travel to National Park destinations. And when I travel alone, once again, I map my travels so I can visit the National Parks.

https://www.parolacce.org/2024/09/18/7j84vq424rd At the end of each year, I note the parks I’ve visited in the past 12 months. They are easy to recall, because I record each visit in a National Park Passport. Whenever I visit a park, I stamp my book. It’s a ritual I’ve been doing since 1997, and I’m currently stamping my third passport book.

Parks I visited in 2013.

On day trips or weekend camping trips in Arizona:

https://www.drcarolineedwards.com/2024/09/18/7e92wwh Saguaro NP, Organ Pipe Cactus NM, Chiricahua NM, Coronado NM, and Tumacacori NHP.

While traveling on my Circle Tour of Arizona in April, long distance practice for my solo cross-country trip:

https://everitte.org/fm9d9ii6 Casa Grande Ruins NM, Montezuma Castle NM, Tonto NM, and Tuzigoot NM.

While on my cross-country trek from the Southwest to the Midwest:

go site Petrified Forest NP, Mesa Verde NP, Black Canyon of the Gunnison NP, Scotts Bluff NM, Agate Fossil Beds NM, Mount Rushmore NM, Wind Cave NP, Jewel Cave NM, Badlands NP. No wonder it took me so long to get home, zigzagging to visit out-of-the-way parks!

When traveling with family:

go Lassen Volcanic NP, Redwoods NP (California)

Twenty in all. Wow!

here go to site ~~~

O is for Oceans.

go site Some of my most memorable times of this year I spent standing on ocean shores, mesmerized with the infinite waves. I never tired of studying the constant, yet ever-changing waves.

Staring out into the ocean triggers my imagination.

https://vbmotorworld.com/6wn2v7g There is nothing but the relentless pounding surf, and yet an entire world exists in its depths. Even though my feet are solidly upon the sandy or rocky shore, I feel a resonance with the deep beyond, a connection I can only imagine.

Relentless. Changing. Hidden depth. And a connection, strong and intangible.

https://trevabrandonscharf.com/8ffqdz3 click ~~~

P is for Place.

I am intensely devoted to place.

https://www.thoughtleaderlife.com/hss3s2id2 Place is the setting I settle into, deeply, with reverence, with attention. A place of nature, history, culture. Urban, rural, wilderness. A visit in solitude, with a friend, or be one in a crowd of people.

I see the sacred in all places.

https://boxfanexpo.com/bqc3bzc There are rare times when I want only to be one with the place, experience it with only with my senses, unencumbered by camera or journal. But I feel most in synch with place when, after I have absorbed the space in quiet, I then reinforce my memory with my photography or journal practice.

https://technocretetrading.com/j11tfm94

One of my joys, when I contemplate a place, is to take a set of deliberate photographs.

https://www.modulocapital.com.br/zlnks26dqgo This may seem at odds with taking inspired, intuitive, capture-the-moment shots. I don’t believe so. I take those kinds of instinctive photographs also. My deliberate photographs of place purposely expose a larger view of place, capturing it in different moods.

source To collect a set of place photos, I take photographs that may include: a panoramic view, a landscape, perhaps a portrait or an intimate landscape (a photo of a subject in the context of the landscape), and a close up photo.

enter Place photos can capture moods — such as the first photo of layers of leaves captured in sunlight. They can capture the feel of a place in its architecture and surrounding details.

When I combine photographs with a few words, I create a photo-journal of place – a contemplative portrait documented in my art.

https://traffordhistory.org/lookingback/ifso8k5i4v3 https://luisfernandocastro.com/h9wpozd5v ~~~

Prior post: Invitation to Labyrinth

Next post: Quilt to Trees

Filed Under: Photography, Travel, Writing Practices Tagged With: alphabet, annual alphabet, annual photography alphabet, Architecture, metaphors, National Parks, oceans, Pacific Ocean, photography as metaphor workshop, place, waves

6th Annual Photo Alphabet – An Exploration of 2013 – Arizona to Dreams

December 26, 2013 by Bo Mackison 14 Comments

Welcome to my Holiday Tradition – my Annual Photo Alphabet.

Today I begin posting my photo alphabet in six parts, culminating on December 31st — just in time to welcome the New Year 2014!

Please join me during the next 6 days as I explore adventures, travel, learning, and change in 2013.

~~~

A is for Arizona and Arroyos.

Hello, Arizona. My adopted state.

When I first visited Arizona, I stayed a week. It only took seven days for me to fall madly in love with the desert. The second year I rented a condo for 8 weeks — my “Bo goes Solo” experience — the first time I’d lived on my own since my college days. The third year I joined the Snowbird Migration, and Sherpa and I made Quail Condo our very own.

There are dozens of reasons I love our casita in Arizona.

The sunshine is a major factor. I have Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) and now I enjoy the winter months instead of braving my way through cloudy winters and even cloudier moods. I love the arroyo in my backyard – wild and thick with cacti, mesquite, and acacias.

There are always birds in the trees and at the feeders – several kinds of hummingbirds, orioles, tanagers, vermillion flycatchers, woodpeckers. Gambel’s quails scramble on the ground, rushing from one bit of cover to the next. Occasionally a road runner struts past.

Coyote and bobcats prowl in the early morning hours. I’ve even had a javelina – a kind of wild pig – poke its nose onto my porch, sniffing for a handout, although I let him know he was not invited to dinner!

And most of all, I love hiking in the nearby Sonoran Desert, camera and journal in hand. Exploring, Listening. Connecting.

~~~

B is for Bridge.

Bridges are connections.

Some days they are shrouded in fog. The iron trusses may be slick with ice. Some of the wooden planks may be missing, or weakened. But when the goal you want to reach is on the opposite shore, it’s time to assess the risk associated with crossing the bridge.

Life stories are bridges, too.

They connect the past with the present and affect the future. I can choose to let my past affect my choices, the risks I am willing to take, the work I accept. Or I can test the bridge, take each step with caution, but maintain forward movement.

My favorite message from this particular bridge photograph is this — even if you can see land on other side, there are no guarantees that what you think you see is what you see. The fog is a reminder that, clear or foggy, we travel across many bridges, and life does not adhere to rigid plans, no matter how well scheduled or executed.

Surprises – such as fog on the bridge – add an element of wonder, challenge, and plenty of opportunity for serendipity!

~~~

C is for Changes, Choices, and Celebration

Don’t you love this vintage seismograph station?

It is located in the heart of Lassen Volcanic National Park in northern California. Although this 90-year-old station has been replaced by a more modern facility, the building stands, testimony to those who monitored the volcanic activity in the park around the clock.

The building is tiny, only space enough for the delicate equipment that measured tiny changes in the movement of the earth.

I once had my own internal seismograph equipment.

It was very sensitive, able to detect change in a millisecond. My change detector was a warning system for me. Change! Alarm! Beware!

But change is a constant – there is always change. I now make a conscious choice to embrace change.

I no longer need my own seismograph recorder.

And that is something to celebrate.

Celebrate the present while looking forward to the possibilities of tomorrow. This photo, a close up of autumn’s orange sumac leaves, reminds me of prayer flags, gently waving in the breeze, celebrating the changing of the season.

~~~

D is for Dreams, Details, and Decisions.

I dream in technicolor.

Dreaming is one of my favorite activities, be it night dreaming, lucid dreaming, or day dreaming. Dreaming lets me explore many options, turn them over in my mind, fiddle with the details. Visualize.

When autumn arrives in Wisconsin, it adds new colors to the gardens. I spend mornings walking garden paths, admiring the yellows and oranges. As an added bonus, I always delight in seeing the movable garden art.

I work in the garden surrounded by art and nature.

How inspiring to sit on one of the benches tucked in a quiet space, and journal or photograph the botanicals in the changing season.

I work in the desert surrounded by art and nature, too.

The colors may be different. The desert’s greens and browns still inspire. And often I bring my work and settle in one of the covered shelters scattered throughout Saguaro National Park. These remarkable buildings, built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps (CCC), provide a shady place for me to set up a temporary desert office.

What a dream come true – taking photographs, writing, and working in the desert.

~~~

Tomorrow’s post: Elephants to Highways.

Filed Under: Creativity, Photography, Writing Practices Tagged With: annual photography alphabet, Arizona, arroyo, bridge, casita, CCC, celebration, change, details, dreams, making decisions, metaphors, Olbrich Gardens, Saguaro National Park

Exploring — My Lawn as a Metaphor

September 28, 2012 by Bo Mackison 6 Comments

“Think of your free time, and how you spend it. Are you fighting your inner geography and planting a lawn? Are you going with the ambient climate and keeping it simple? Do you want to do work that is intense and may not fit the popular climate, or do you want to go with the flow and keep your work suited to an easy schedule? Or, do you want to create an environment that’s exotic for you or do you want to explore your nature as it is?” – Quinn McDonald

There are just so many options for spending my free time, and I always pack more ideas into my brain than one woman could do in a lifetime.

But that doesn’t stop me from adding to the list constantly. When I factor in my penchant for change, I need to consider several options for my front lawn if it is to be a metaphor for my free time.

At first thought, I liked the idea of a tall sunflower field.

I would be surrounded by eight foot high plants, all topped with giant yellow sunflower heads. Hidden in the glory of all those waving flowers, spending my free time wandering without being seen. But when I thought about the upkeep and the crispy brown remains of sunflower stalks once autumn’s frost paid a visit, those glorious sunflowers lost their appeal. Maybe I would get tired of being surrounded by a jungle of bright yellow flower heads the size of dinner plates. Too much intense color, over a long period of time, it might be too bright. Or too lonely, hidden away in the flowers.

What about a mass of low growing, take-care-of-themselves-flowers?

And while I’m imagining what I’d really like my free time to look like, in lawn form, I’d like a black and white flower yard where I can change its colors on my whim – like the original movie version of The Wizard of Oz which begins in black and white, and then magically transforms into resplendent color. That would satisfy my preference for quick change – white to match a pristine day, red for a passionate mood, multicolored when I’m feeling festive.

Of course, I’d need a magic wand to keep the flowers in tip-top shape, growing lush while remaining an easily tended ground cover.

And the magic wand would come in handy when it was time for a color change, too. My flower lawn requires a bit of magic – is that because I don’t want to do all of the work that fun sometimes requires (such as the wild rush that comes before and after a planned vacation.)

Perhaps I’d like a magic wand because I’m not the quick change artist I wish I could be in real life.

One day I yearn to be a landscape photographer tramping through the wilds of red rock country or the Southwest desert; another day I’m the artist curating her photographs for a museum or gallery show.

One day I am a photographer who is demonstrating the simple workings of a pinhole camera to a group of excited children; another day I’m an urban photographer documenting form and shape in the architectural details of abandoned buildings.

Maybe I’d even be in the mood for some meticulous, creative work. I spend much of my free time doing just that when I am in front of the magical computer screen processing my photographs.

What a changeable yard…um, photographer…

Filed Under: Art of Healing, Photography, Writing Practices Tagged With: asters, flowers, Madison, metaphors, nature, Photography, prairie flowers, Wisconsin, writing prompt

The Sidewalk Heart

June 12, 2012 by Bo Mackison 6 Comments

What a happy and holy fashion it is that those who love one another should rest on the same pillow. ~ Nathaniel Hawthorne

This is a photograph of a metaphor for marriage.

See the pretty heart? It was carved out of a part of the pavement on a city sidewalk in Chicago. That seems appropriate. Sherpa and I met on a city street, in Chicago, almost 39 years ago. A stylized heart, such as this one, is a symbol of love, though I always wondered how this shape came to be.

See how the heart is roughly carved? A few hacks and rough spots. Some gouges and uneven outlines. Sounds like most marriages I know. Yes, even the ones that last and last and last. There are gouges and rough spots, but there are a lot more smoothed areas.

See how some dirt has collected in the creases, in a few of the gouges? How there is a smattering of grit and grime around the heart? Well, even in a good marriage, there is great deal of day-to-day clean-up that is required. Most of the grit gets swept away, a bit remains. That’s OK. Marriage is a committed relationship between two imperfect people. No marriage is perfect. But this particular marriage I am writing about has had some perfect moments, some great, and a lot of good enough.

See the maple seed? It’s a bit bedraggled, a bit dirtied by street traffic, but it’s all in one piece. If you planted the twirly seed, there’s a good chance it would grow into a little tree. And the seed has two parts connected, but still each wing has its own seed. In a lasting marriage, there are together times and separate times. Good recipe for keeping a marriage alive.

So maybe I am stretching the maple seed metaphor a bit. But that’s OK, too. When I saw the heart and the seed on the sidewalk a couple of weeks ago, I immediately took a photograph with the intention of writing about it and posting it today, June 12th, 2012, in honor of the 36th anniversary of the wedding of Sherpa and Bo.

Happy Anniversary, Sherpa.

(It ain’t just anyone who gets a bedraggled maple seed in a sidewalk heart photograph for their anniversary!)

————–

Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She is taking tonight off – no camera! – and celebrating. Dinner for two in NYC!

Filed Under: Art of Healing, Photography Tagged With: anniversary, Bo Mackison photographer, Canon EOS 5D Mark II, Chicago, heart, maple seed, metaphors, nature, pavement, Seeded Earth Photography