A Drive through Box Canyon, Sky Island View

Open Space

Open Space © 2012 Bo Mackison

The Box Canyon Road passes through the norhthern part of Madera Canyon from Arizona Highway 83, north of Sonoita, to White House Canyon Road, near the entrance to the Madera Canyon Recreation Area. This road was built in the 1930s by the Civilian Conservation Corps which was also responsible for building some of the original roads in Madera Canyon, and the original campgrounds, bridges and hiking trails.

The road passes through range land for several miles,. Horses are grazing behind secure fencing and cattle are both grazing on the ranch land and wandering on the roads. (Sorry – no pic. I was driving, well, skirting around cows in the middle of the road!)

Sky Island Layers

Sky Island Layers © 2012 Bo Mackison

The road eventually hugs the mountain side and climbs upward, offering views of the layers of sky island habitats. Here, a riparian corridor including sycamores and cottonwoods a leafy green near the river bed, though the river is dry. In the higher elevations, a mixture of evergreen oaks, Alligator junipers and Pinions are in the oak-pine woodland. The furthest peaks are covered with Douglas fir, Gambel oaks, maples in the middle elevations,  white fir and a few aspens at the highest elevations.

Road, Vintage CCC

Road through the Canyon, Vintage CCC © 2012 Bo Mackison

The dirt road clings rather snugly to the rising topography, but the views are beautiful. If you want to get a good look at the scenery and snap a few photos, one either needs to stop frequently — there are a few wide spots, but otherwise the road is lightly traveled and visibility is good. I could always see if cars or trucks were driving towards me or following me, so I often stopped mid-road, but I was VERY careful! Another option, and the one I recommend, is having both a driver and a passenger/photographer so that the roles are well defined.

If you look far in the distance, in the valley between the Santa Ritas, one are looking at Green Vally and Continental , Arizona, small towns south of Tucson, and beyond the towns, on a very clear day, you can make out eh multiple observatories on Kitt Peak, 70 miles away.

Rocky Seat

Rocky Seat, Long View © 2012 Bo Mackison

I love the rippling habitats of the sky islands. I sat on this rock formation for awhile, very comfy, and took a few notes, snoozed a few minutes — it was so warm and I swear the sun sang me a sweet sunny lullabye — and did a few sketches. I am practicing a few plein air techniques with some basic supplies — pencils, colored pencils and watercolors, but they are definitely in the practice stage at this point.

Green Lichen on Rocks

Green Lichen Colony © 2012 Bo Mackison

These rocks, and many of the rocks throughout the sky islands in southern Arizona and northern Sonora, Mexico, are covered with a lime green living crust called lichen. Lichen is a multiorganism, part fungus, part either green algae or blue-green algae. (The fungus is the house; the algae provides the nutrients. Lichen can grow in the most hostile places, including bare rock in cold places.

The amazing thing about lichen is that it is not scientifically classified as either a plant nor an animal. DNA analysis shows lichen is very different from a fungal make-up, which is in the animal kingdom, but it is also very different from the algae make-up which belongs to the Bacteria kingdom.A sort-of combination of animal-bacteria, but not a plant.

I guess lichen has a kingdom all its own.

See the Road Constructed by the CCC?

See the Road Constructed by the CCC? © 2012 Bo Mackison

On the way out of the canyon, I crossed a bridge, and was able to take this photograph of a dry rocky wash which appears to now be the home of lots of prickly pear (more on the edges, not in the middle sandier area.)

Out of the Mountains

Coming Out of the Mountains © 2012 Bo Mackison

And leaving the mountain pass, I came out into another thorn scrub with quite a few prickly pears, yucca, and barrel cacti spread amidst the mesquite. The cattle guards appeared on the road again and I noticed signs for open range. I didn’t see any roaming cattle on the west side of the pass, but they had been on the road earlier in the day.

 

How Many Habitats can you See?

How Many Habitats Can You See? © 2012 Bo Mackison

And finally, I reach the road that leads away from the Santa Ritas. I pulled off on the side of the grasslands, and took one last photograph of the Santa Rita Mountain Range and its highest mountain, Mount Wrightson (9453 feet).

I think it takes me about twice as long to take the shortcut through the mountain pass compared to taking Arizona Highway 83 north to Interstate 10 West, drive through Tucson, and then take Interstate 19 south to Madera Canyon. But the shorter drive, though interesting and with great views at times, just can;t compare to a mountain pass drive through the Santa Rita Wilderness. (And a some ranch lands at the beginning and end — just to add a bit more variety, I suppose…)

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona. There are days the wanderlust bug bites Bo and then she wanders the roads to see what she can see.

Wilderness is not a Luxury

Desert Globe Mallow

Desert Globe Mallow © 2012 Bo Mackison

Wilderness is not a luxury but a necessity of human spirit. ~ Edward Abbey

The desert expands and seeps into my vision,
the floor is ocean, odd twisted creatures,
and the cactus-corals are prescient.

When the ocean — tiding by lunar pull — disappears
the desert returns, a remnant of ancient ocean,
fossil, a testimonial embedded in rock,
geologic band of aquatic life remembered only in stone.

I too will be remembered only in stone.

When I swim too far from the shore of this desert,
stray into the repeating saguaro-ocotillo wilderness,
I stop, afraid to cross the sand arroyo

Descend into this dry bed,
and reach the blooming oranges and yellows that thrive on the edges.
I take my chances, there are times I cannot manage.

Waiting,
shadows are longest when the sun heaves herself
onto the desert floor and again when she
slips off the desert and drops from the horizon.

Even the longest shadows disappear in the
blotting dark of night,
dark skies are coming — no
they are here.

This cold monument to the dark,
desert monolith, see the shooting star emerge from clouds,
momentary, streak of light, I blink and it is gone.
Or was it even there?

I rub creosote leaves between my index finger and thumb,
smell the pungent aroma of preservative,
lie down to rest upon the packing quilt, a U Haul relic,
and wait for the desert to spit her rain.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona.

Vintage Golden Poppy

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.

Magic Wand, Anyone?

Fairy in Light II

Fairy in Pink Light © 2011 Bo Mackison

Being in a place of uncertainty and edginess can be transformative. Stay with those feelings, even for a moment, it is actually a genuine act of kindness to ourselves. Though being compassionate enough to accomodate our own fears takes courage and feels counter-intuitive.  ~ Pema Chodron, from The Places that Scare You

The week between Christmas Day and New Year’s Day has become less of a resting space (as I had envisioned in my fantasies) and more of a deep-breathing-keep-calm-and-keep-moving-forward space. As the above quote states so very clearly, “being in a place of uncertainty and edginess can be transformative.”

Transformation sounds good. I decided to work on some organization during this less hectic time and made progress. I worked on the new timeline on Facebook, and surprisingly, I like the new feature. I’m not an advocate of most of Facebook’s improvements, but this seems to make things more orderly instead of more confusing. I spruced up my Seeded Earth business account on Facebook while I was there. Good.

Then I cleaned up my Twitter account. Removed dead accounts, added some exciting new ones to match some of my developing interests. Changed the background while I was changing everything else. Good.

Anticipating the change from 2011 to 2012, I made new photo sets in Flickr for the 2012 calendar year, moved older sets to a less visible place. Cleaned up some misfiled photographs and added tags to a few forgotten photos. Flickr is one of my most viable vehicles for new business, and so I keep my finished photos up to date. Each photograph is in an easy-to-find organized set. Good.

Late yesterday I opened my folder for art festival applications and took a deep breath. New rules. New definitions of digital vs. photographic art. Changed and now conflicting show dates. Show information that requires corrections and back and forth, back and forth emails. I started in on the paperwork.

Almost immediately I hit a brick wall. I must pick 3 to 5 photographs of my art to submit with the written applications. The photos are the primary source for the jury to judge the hundreds or even thousands of applications.  Those few photographs need to capture the essence of my art, and are ultimately the deciding factor whether I get an invitation to the shows this summer or I am told “sorry, please apply again next year”.

Of course, my inner critic needed to speak up. “What if the only jury liked last year’s photography?” “What if they don’t like the newer photos?” “What if there is too much digital manipulation?” “What if the jurors collectively despise the color red and two of the chosen photos feature red?”

Hmm. It’s like a game. I have to choose the application photos, and then be done with it. Once the apps are out the door, the decisions are out of my hands. Good.

But I’d thought the pressure and the to-do list was going to lighten this week, and that didn’t happen.

I console myself with the fact that I am doing what I love — taking photographs, creating art, showing it at festivals, talking to art enthusiasts about my techniques, adding new collectors. All jobs, including the work of artists, have the fun parts and the not so fun parts. So it’s time to pick out those photographs and get those applications off my to-do list. Summer will be here before I know it!

p.s. In the post I linked to my Facebook, Twitter and Flickr accounts. If you want to connect via Twitter, Facebook, or Flickr, feel free to follow any (or all) of the links. Thanks.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer, owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She is in super-organizer mode during this short work week, and nothing — not even dreaded paperwork — will slow her down!

First Snowfall

First Snow on Strickers Pond

First Snow on Strickers Pond © 2011 Bo Mackison

Listen to your life.
See it for the fathomless mystery that it is …
Touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart,
all of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments,
and life itself is grace. ~ Frederick Buechner

The snow drifted from the skies this morning. I could make out the swirling white even in the darkness before dawn. As the day began, as the sky lightened to a slate gray, there was just enough snow to cover the ground, the roads, the outlines of the branches. By noon the sidewalks, driveways, and streets were free of snow and as the day continued to warm most of the snow melted into the grass. Only clumps of the white stuff remain.

Madison has had an average of 15″ of snow by this time of the year for at least the last five years. Often the accumulation by the New Year is over the twenty inch mark. We have usually had our first weather warnings and blizzard planning by now. But not this year.

It is looking unlikely that there will be a white Christmas 2011. Better traveling weather. That’s a good thing.

But I’m glad I was able to photograph the pond dressed in white. It may be all the snow I see this year. In a few weeks, I’ll be traveling to Arizona to prepare for the upcoming art shows.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer, owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She took photographs in the snow, sat in the living room with the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree for company and meditated, and then picked up family at the airport – almost everyone is home for the holidays.  Now I am really listening to life!