To Walk in Silence

September 7, 2012 by 9 Comments
Walking Down Old Baldy

Walking Old Baldy ©2010 Bo Mackison

The more zigzag the way, the deeper the scenery.
The winding path approaches the secluded and peaceful place.
~ Huáng Bīnhóng

The theme at Abbey of the Arts for September is silence. An invitation was extended to visually reflect on what silence looks like. I pondered what my photographs of silence might look like, and then went wandering (apt word) through a few of my photo catalogs. I immediately felt drawn to the many photos I have of paths or trails leading into wilderness areas, paths I walked alone and in silence. Meditative walking.

Whether I am walking along a sand dune, part worn boardwalk and part shifting sand . . . or through a green forest, thick with green vegetation, towering leafy trees, wildflowers sprinkling pastel colors amidst my feet . . . or tramping on a desert trail, worn deeply into the side of a mountain, stretching through stands of cactus, climbing over piles of tumbled rock . . . or strolling on the smooth pavement in a tended garden, walking further and further away from the crowds, deep into the recesses where few wander, but much joy is found . . . or hiking along a snaking path through the wilderness of badlands, a barren maze of eroded land, ridges, peaks, and mesas — all of these I walk in silence.

In listening to the silence, for silence has a sound, I find answers to my questions, and more questions seeking answers. I find my way through the wilderness and then I am home.

Forest Path

Forest Path ©2011 Bo Mackison

“People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle.
But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air,
but to walk on earth.
Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize:
a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black,
curious eyes of a child — our own two eyes.
All is a miracle.”
~ Thich Nhat Hanh

Cactus, Rock and the Trail

Cactus, Rock, Trail ©2012 Bo Mackison

“Walking is the great adventure,
the first meditation,
a practice of heartiness and soul primary to humankind.
Walking is the exact balance between spirit and humility.”
~ Gary Snyder, The Practice of the Wild

There Was a Crooked Path

There Was a Crooked Path © 2011 Bo Mackison

“A fact bobbed up from my memory,
that the ancient Egyptians prescribed walking through a garden
as a cure for the mad.
It was a mind-altering drug we took daily.”
~ Paul Fleischman, in Seedfolks

Storm Approaching

Organ Pipe Path ©2012 Bo Mackison

Our way is not soft grass,
it’s a mountain path with lots of rocks.
But it goes upward, forward,
towards the hidden sun.
~ Ruth Westheimer

Badlands-Two Trees

Two Trees in the Badlands © 2011 Bo Mackison

That’s the best thing about walking, the journey itself.
It doesn’t matter much whether you get where you’re going or not.
You’ll get there anyway.
Every good hike brings you eventually back home. ~ Edward Abbey

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Walking is her daily pleasure, her daily meditation.

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Abandoned, Like an Empty House

July 14, 2012 by 4 Comments
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?

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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.

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Trees are Sanctuaries

March 27, 2012 by 6 Comments
Looking at the Past

Trees are Sanctuaries © 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. ~ Herman Hesse

Trees Are Sanctuaries

1806, The People Build the Church

They make the brick, kiln the lime, raise the walls, lay the roof,
paint murals and sacristy ornamentation, build niches for the statues of the Saints.
They clear the land, build the fences, plant corn and wheat,
and from the priests’ cache of pods and seeds, they plant and then tend
fruit orchards, nut trees, and olive trees.
They learn the ways of the missionaries,
they marry, raise children, care for their sick, weep for their dying, bury their dead.

1827, Weary, Ill, and Wary of Raiding Enemies

Many of the People wrap the statuary in leathery strips of yucca,
the bundled saints cradled like newborn babes
protected from summer’s heat, shifting winds, monsoon thunderstorms,
from damage to their wooden limbs or chipped painted robes or eyes of porcelain marbles.
They walk north, leave the Tumacacori Mountains,
settle in another valley with another priest and another church.

1848, Tumacacori Mission, Deserted in the Desert.

No missionary priest leads his people, crucifix in hand,
his carved cross held high, a silhouette in the blue bowl of sky.
No one gives signal to the last few of the Desert People
who now abandon their homes, possessions, crops;
abandon their church, stacked bricks of adobe, and
precious, the limestone wash, white like angels’ wings;
now the church is an apparition towering amidst the desert grasses, agave, mesquite,
standing in the foreground of the mountains.

2012, A View through the Window

Open to the cool desert nights,
no roof for protection, no doors.
Only the ruins remain,  maintained as ruins.
But the window opening frames the cottonwoods, green and tall,
lining the Santa Cruz River, growing.
They hold my fascination. When I walk to the river,
they form the arched roof over my head,
provide a spongy carpet of decaying leaves under my feet.
Wisps of white cottony fluff, seeds for the future, drift on the southwest breeze.

The trees are the sanctuaries.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona. There are also days Bo wanders through Mission ruins, thinks of days long past, and writes poetry.

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Organ Pipe Cactus

March 1, 2012 by 5 Comments
Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument
Organ Pipe Cactus © 2012 Bo Mackison

Transparent and intangible as sunlight, yet always and everywhere present, [the desert] lures a man on and on, from the red-walled canyons to the smoke-blue ranges beyond, in a futile but fascinating quest for the great, unimaginable treasure which the desert seems to promise. Once caught by this golden lure you become a prospector for life. ~ Edward Abbey

The organ pipe cactus shares this mountainside with saguaros, mesquite, and blooming brittlebush. The organ pipe has many arms which appear to come from a low-to-the-ground center and resembles a pipe organ, its namesake. Some of the largest specimens grow to twenty-five feet, but most of the cacti I saw at Organ Pipe National Monument were in the twelve to eighteen feet range.

Organ Pipe Cactus and Desert Marigold

Organ Pipe Cactus © 2012 Bo Mackison

Although the lucky organ pipes that make it through their first years become giants in the Sonoran Desert, they are a bit on the slow side when they are getting started. In the wild, an organ pipe is only four inches high when it celebrates its eighth birthday. A three foot tall cactus will be about twenty years old, and it will finally reach an adult height of twenty feet when it is forty five or fifty years old.

Organ Pipe Cactus grow in Sonora, Mexico and a few are seen in the Tucson area, but the majority of Organ Pipe Cacti that grow in the United States are in or very near the monument. These cacti are afforded little protection in Mexico, so it is vital that we remain committed to maintaining this region for the protection of this unique cactus.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Love the organ pipe cactus and Organ Pipe Cactus National Monument. What an amazing place!

Filed Under: Photography, Travel Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Vintage Golden Poppy

February 26, 2012 by 5 Comments
Vintage Poppy

Vintage Poppy © 2012 Bo Mackison

There are times in our lives when too many voices seem to be pulling us this way and that. We can seek silence and order within. Then we will hear the truth.   ~ Osho

I’ve been in a wild and whirling space the past few days. So much to do, not enough time. Too many shoulds listed on my to do list, and I am ignoring them. The script rushing through my mind sounds like it was written by a convention of gremlins, intent on keeping me on the practical path. Except I am not one who appreciates the practical as much as I appreciate the spur of the moment, the adventure, the explore, but on my terms. I love the adventure but I like to have my feet firmly on the ground, adventuring in safety perhaps. Are those two incongruous? Adventure and safety?

I don’t think so. I like to have a little planning in my explores. Maybe I head west not knowing exactly where it is I am going, but I have a list of three or four places that are possible destinations. I am not one to travel the open road without some idea of where I am. But I also like to leave my schedule open enough to accommodate the serendipitous meeting, the landscape I just have to get to know more intimately, a town that demands more than a cursory visit.

I have been having many conversations with myself. These talks invariably consist of what should I be doing. Now? A month from now? A year? What plans do I have for exhibiting my photography? Where am I going with my art? What path should I follow? As a wise person once told me, “You can’t just sit in an arroyo and watch the poppies bloom.”

Currently I have two of my photographs in an art exhibit at University Hospitals in Madison, Wisconsin. I have another photograph accepted for an  exhibit in March and April, an exhibit called Beyond the Lens at the Tubac Center for the Arts in Tubac, Arizona. I do freelance photography, shooting interiors and exteriors of living spaces. My art fair and festival schedule is slowly taking shape. I’ll be at Tucson’s Fourth Avenue Street Fair in March and I have Midwest art festivals on my calendar from May through September, and adding more each week as the notifications come in. And I photograph and work on my photographs – editing, post-processing, printing, matting, framing – 50+ hours a week.

The conference of my gremlins settled on a conclusion – they want me to expand my photographic repertoire. Actually, in plain-speak, my gremlins want me to become financially solvent. And then save for retirement. Save for a rainy day. Save for their retirement. All excellent suggestions.

And here I am, feeling quite the contrarian, wanting to return to the lovely arroyo to see the poppies again. Maybe I can go sit there and re-think my business plan WHILE watching the poppies grow.

A compromise?

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. If you need to find Bo today, she’s sitting on a rock in an arroyo in the Tucson Mountains, and talking to the poppies about life goals.

Filed Under: Photography, Travel Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
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