Desert Tax Shelter

Bob's Tax Shelter - View 1

Sherpa’s Tax Shelter

“The Tax Shelter represents the existential struggle between the spirits. The Face is the powerful Sherpa Talisman (protector) . . . “

Bob's Tax Shelter - View 2

Sherpa’s Tax Shelter

“. . . and the rocks on the tether represent the vagaries of the tax rules – swinging forth and back.”
~Sherpa

In the last post, I wrote about a workshop — Figures from Natural Materials — offered on January 28 at Boyce Thompson Arboretum State Park. Sherpa was visiting for an extended weekend, and we had already planned to take a day trip on his last day in Arizona. He agreed to take the workshop with me, even though he claims he’s never created a piece of original art. (He’s a numbers guy – accounting and tax stuff — and says he uses his creativity decoding the tax code. And I believe him — that would require a great deal of creativity.)

We had plenty of time to discuss the details of the workshop on the two-drive drive from Tucson to Superior. He grimaced a bit at the idea of making a “doll” from natural materials of the desert, but when I suggested he might want to make a structure or a shelter of some sort, he brightened considerably. Actually became excited.

“A shelter? I could make a TAX shelter!” he said, beaming at the idea.

And so he did.

Truly, he was one of the stars of the class. Ruth Ipsan-Brown, the workshop instructor, gave basic instructions and let us each create on our own. Sherpa did a fine job exploring the vagaries of glue guns, seed pods, and tax rules as he constructed his Tax Shelter. And he even sent me an explanation of his art, so that all could appreciate the meaning of his sculpture.

Thanks, Sherpa. It was a great afternoon – creating art, walking the arboretum, and making memories!

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She takes time away from photography to explore other creative arts and create great memories, too.

Doll of the Desert

Desert Guardian

Doll of the Desert © 2013 Bo Mackison

It is in the knowledge of the genuine conditions of our lives that we must draw our strength to live and our reasons for living. ~ Simone de Beauvoir

Laying the Groundwork

I am exploring a variety of arts in the solitude of the desert — art that offers me a connection with my inner space, with my spirituality, with the roots of authentic living. I am searching. I am listening. I am creating.

During a conversation with a wise woman guide, we talked about the many ways of using the creative arts to explore the journey of living a full life. We discussed journal writing, art journaling, dream journaling, book-making, collage, weaving — all of which I’ve experienced, some more than others. As we were discussing a dream I’d had involving a doll house and a collection of dolls and accessories, she questioned if I might be interested in making a doll. Or several. I wasn’t sure, I replied. Sewing has never been a favorite activity of mine.

When the Student is Ready, the Teacher Appears

Serendipity intervened. A day later I was researching visiting hours for a regional arboretum and their site had a photograph of a small figure created from the natural materials of the desert. My curiosity was piqued. After contacting Boyce Thompson Arboretum State Park, I learned about a just-scheduled workshop – Figures from Natural Materials. I registered on the spot. (Sherpa was visiting and I claimed a second space in the workshop for him. More on his experience in the next post — it’s an another amazing story, and too good to keep to myself!)

The workshop was taught by Ruth Ipsan-Brown. What a creative and kind dynamo! Ruth spends half her days scrounging arroyos, open desert, parking lot perimeters, and back lots of arboretums (with permission) for sticks, twigs, seed pods, cactus skeletons, rocks and minerals, dried flowers and other such stuff. When not out in nature, she keeps a look out in thrift stores (grape-vine wreaths for dismantling), gem shows (tiny crystals and beads to augment her collection) and other such places.

Ruth then creates small figures from her collection of natural and found materials. The arboretum saw her marvelous constructions, asked if she would teach a workshop, and so it happened.

We arrived early at Boyce Thompson, allowing us time to stroll the almost deserted gardens. It had rained and everything was freshly bathed, the smell was heavenly. We arrived at the workshop studio at noon and met Ruth. She gave us a few instructions – some advice on using glue guns and drilling holes with Dremls, a quick lesson on painting tiny faces on flat rocks or bone. Then the fun began.

I looked over Ruth’s collection of desert finds, picking a few things that seemed to call to me. I’d bring a handful of nature bits to my workspace, add a piece to my figure, return the unused items. Repeat. Eventually, this tiny doll sculpture emerged. I created her without a lot of planning or thought.

A Doll of Metaphors

It was not until later that evening, when I was studying my creation, that I realized the desert doll was quite metaphorical. I identified some of the plants that made up the doll figure and looked up some of their symbolic meanings..

She has a piece of the Ironwood’s trunk for the base. According to a forest lore site, Grotto Radio, this tree “will teach that you can resurrect from tragedy”. The site also says the Ironwood tree spirit is “slow and grounded. One that sees its own feet walking the path rather than looking up to see the sun. It is not about speed or result but the effort put in the moment.”

My doll-figure’s spine is a spine from a cholla cactus, a relic from the desert that could be nearly 2oo years old. It is a symbol of endurance, survival in hardship, and to the  Tohono O’odham people, “the plant is a sacred being, capable of sustaining life.” What better choice for the spine of my desert doll?

Behind the saguaro spine is a bit of feathery skeleton from the prickly pear. Merely touching this dried skeleton can cause damage. Is that a cautionary sign to “handle gently” – that everything has its fragile part?

The cactus flower is often called a symbol of maternal love, a symbol of the unconditional love of Mother Earth, even under the most difficult of conditions. Every one would do well to have a symbol of unconditional love nearby.

And one final symbol – the turquoise “hat”. The turquoise gemstone is a symbol of protection and strength.

So, it seems as if my little figure is imbued with much mythological and symbolic meaning. It was a fun exercise – both its creation and the consideration of its symbolism. I think I’ll continue to explore this type of creation.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Sometimes she takes time away from photography to explore other creative outlets, and in doing so she discovers a depth to her world she once only imagined.

Wintry Day on a Sky Island

Winter on a Sky Island

Winter on a Sky Island © 2013 Bo Mackison

In every walk in nature, one receives far more than he seeks. ~ John Muir

Snow in Arizona?

Sure. Arizona has its share of mountain ranges. The state, when viewed from far above, might resemble a piece of brown corrugated cardboard. Mountain ranges alternate with valleys, and those mountains peaks, many which near 10,000 feet in elevation, get plenty of snow.

A couple of days ago the snow moved even further down the mountains, and I headed for the nearest mountain range, the Santa Ritas, and drove towards Madera Canyon. Before I reached the road climbing upwards through the canyon, I saw clumps of wet snow hanging on ironwood trees, acacias, palo verdes. A few cholla had a snowy mitten on every arm. The prickly pear and yucca wore coats of white.

What a sight! it was the first time I’ve seen measurable snow in the foothills, mostly a thornscrub habitat.

Sycamore Snow Fall

Sycamore Snow Fall © 2013 Bo Mackison

In all things of Nature, there is something of the marvelous. ~ Aristotle

As we drove to the higher elevation, several inches of heavy snow covered everything. The wind was breezy and it seemed wherever I walked, the sycamore trees were throwing the snow off their leaves and branches and aiming for me.

Sycamore Leaf Creek?

Trail of Sycamore Leaves in Madera Creek © 2013 Bo Mackison

The sound of water says what I think. ~ Chuang Tze (c. 360 BC)

When we reached an access area for Madera Creek, I hiked along the creek. Water was flowing amidst a bed of red sycamore leaves. Surrounded by the whitest of snow, the creek seemed more sycamore leaf than tumbling water.

I enjoyed my brief foray into the wintry weather, especially while standing in the rays of the warming sunshine.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Yesterday she traveled to a wintry sky island in southern Arizona to play in the snow. Nature is truly a wonder!

Beyond, The World – Barrier # 9

Defaced Wall II

Beyond, The World © 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.” ~ Hermann Hesse

(This post is the ninth in a series of my story of art and healing. See the introduction and complete series at My Healing Journey.)

When I embarked on what is now my photography business, I discovered a way to make my life meaningful. Initially, photography gave me a reason for getting up in the morning, getting out of the house, looking at my world, and finally creating something that I loved and was proud of. The healing process of creative photography. It was several years later when I discovered how to work with my photographs on a deeper level.

When I photographed this wall, I was shooting an old mission and its grounds. I came upon this wall, discovered its defaced surface, then framed a shot so I could focus on the wall and the grove of trees in the distance. Months later, as I was going through photo catalogs on my computer, I saw this particular photo and it took on a new meaning.

For me, certain photographs are like other people’s dreams. They provide symbols, metaphors, and hints of meaning. They are open for interpretation, not on a literal base, but intuitively.

In this photo, I visualized the wall as a barrier in my life. The wall prevented me from entering a lovely grove of trees, a place I longed to visit for sustenance and revival. Beyond the wall, the world opened into a sacred space of color and life, a place where nature could heal and provide strength for body, mind and spirit. I wanted to be in that grove of trees.

I visualized different scenarios in response to my quest. How could I reach that sacred space? How could I get over the wall?

  • I could scrounge for scrub wood and strong grasses, build a make-shift ladder, and climb up and over the wall.
  • I could walk along the wall until I came upon a gate or doorway, a portal into the world of greens and blues.
  • Or…I could I look at the height and thickness of the wall, and walk away, accepting defeat before I even began.

The process of visualizing my options provided much food for thought.

I now have created a set of Desert Wisdom Cards, 24 cards in all, each with a photograph and a word. I use the cards during my morning practice, focusing on the photograph and using it for inspiration and speaking to my muse. I also use the photo and the cards as prompts for journal writing, or a springboard for an art or nature project.

I discovered in the process a vehicle that provided not only a way for me to use my art for healing, but a system that also promoted problem solving and goal setting. These cards provide me with a framework in which to consider choices, make plans, and instigate changes in my life — the self discovery and healing process of in-depth creative photography.

Next: Gazing Upwards

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.