A Tree in the City and the Photo-Heart Connection

City Shadows

Tree in the City © 2012 Bo Mackison

I have been following a photographer, Kat Sloma, whose photos and words speak to me in a kindred sort of way, even though we do not know each other, have never met, have not connected in the blogging world way of comments passing back and forth. And yet, I have felt a connection for many months. Then I read Kat’s words a few weeks ago, and was struck by many commonalities.

I’ll quote her words, a summation of things I also have been thinking about.

“…this theme of connection keeps coming up. I want to extend the connection I find through Find Your Eye [an online course Kat teaches which I have only read about] to everyone, so I’ve brainstormed this new idea for a monthly blog series:The Photo-Heart Connection.

The idea: At the end of each month, review the images you worked with in that month for the one that gives you the strongest connection to your heart and soul. Write about that connection to the image in a blog post or in a photo description on Flickr, then link into the monthly link up. You can get to know the other photographers seeking the same connection, by visiting the links and reading their experiences. We will find our kindred spirits.”  ~ Kat of Kat Eye Studio

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Intending to do this, I went through only my Flickr photographs thinking that I would more likely sort through a hundred edited photos compared to a thousand in un-edited form. Since I was in the Southwest all of February, living on the fringe of the Sonoran Desert, I thought naturally I would pick one of my desert photos. After all, one of the reasons I am in Tucson is because I feel a deep connection to the desert. But as I watched the slideshow of my February photos, one kept catching my eye.

Yep, the shadow photo above. I t was taken in a tree-lined courtyard of the Tucson Museum of Art. I had gone to see a photo exhibit of Nickolas Muray, the personal photographer (and sometimes lover) of artist Frida Kahlo. There was no personal photography allowed in the museum exhibit itself, but I found myself taking copious notes as I studied each photograph.

Then I wandered outside, through the courtyards of the museum, and began photographing the museum grounds and the nearby historic Presidio of Tucson.

This is the photo I chose to represent “the strongest connection to [my] heart and soul”. Part of my choice was influenced by the strong colors, the strong lines, the balance of top and bottom (something I seldom do). But I think the decision-maker was the composition of the tree and its branches. The shadows head off in unexpected directions.

Just where is the tree? And why is there an uneven continuity when the shadow on the pavement meets the shadow on the wall? Does the photo represent a tangled mess or a continuity? What is the relationship of nature (or nature’s shadow) and the man-made wall and walking surface?

I chose this photo as my photo of February because of all the questions it asks me. And because of the challenge it gives me to answer those questions.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC, living and photographing in southern Arizona. She is quite enthralled with the idea of choosing one photo each month as her heart-photo connection. Everyone is welcome to participate, per Kat’s website info, so check out the project if it appeals to you.

Crossing the Bridge

Bridge to the Art Festival
Bridge to the Art Festival © 2012 Bo Mackison

 It takes courage to grow up and be who you really are.  ~ e e cummings

When I study this photograph, I see a long bridge, laced with a repetitive pattern of lights and shadows. The bridge looks very solid, very safe. At the end of the bridge is marvelous sculptural art from the K. Newby Gallery – kinetic, metallic, engaging. And beyond the spinning sculptures are rows and rows of white tents, set up for the Tubac Festival of the Arts, (Though you can barely see it, my booth for Seeded Earth Photography is the second on the left – only a few steps from the bridge.)

I wish I were a great metaphorical writer because the metaphors that come to mind when I look at this photograph are amazing. Crossing a bridge – a sturdy bridge. Crossing over from one life experience to another. The repeating light and shadowy spaces. Life replicates the contrasts — sometimes life is light and the way is well-lit on a smooth path, sometimes life is shadowy and the way is difficult. But continue on the path, and you will find beautiful art, the kinetic art, moving and glistening in the sunlight. And then finally, not distracted by the larger than life sculptures, not comparing my art to others’ art nor finding it lacking, I reach the art festival. And there is my booth, standing in a row of artists’ booth, fitting in, one with the whole.

So continuing with the art fair experience from the last blog post…

ART SHOW — PART II

Sherpa definitely could not come for the set up nor the opening days of the art festival. I had never set up alone, but I knew the mechanicst. I knew how to put the tent together, rather like a ten foot high metal and plastic Tinker Toy model, and set up the inside panels on which I hung my art. Since I always hung my photographs, that part was easy. I decided that I would do the show solo.

I carefully planned how many trips it would take me to get to Tubac, a 20 minute car trip from my home.  If I could take the tent, the floor rug, the panels, and the bins of art in two loads, I could make one trip on Tuesday and finish on Wednesday before the show began.

On Monday evening, I loaded the car with the rug, tent and as many Pro-Panels as would fit. I added two bins of art in the passenger side seat. On Tuesday I drove to Tubac. Check in and booth assignment was at 2:00 pm. I arrived at noon, and got in line. Happily, artists are a super friendly bunch, and so there was lively chatter, lots of stories and talk of traveling across the country doing art shows. Time passed, and soon I had my booth assignment.

First I started with the tent. Fortunately, the artist next to me helped me at two crucial points and in an hour the tent was standing. I added weights and ties to the tent for stability, and set up the pieces of Pro-Panel I had with me.

By this time it was nearly 5 in the evening, an hour til dark, and I realized that the remaining panels would fill most of the car. I would have to go get the panels and return in the dark or I would never be ready for the Wednesday morning opening.

I had my camping lantern and the light of the full moon. How beautiful. I was one of only a few artists still setting up, and the silence was strikingly quiet. The moon lit up the sky, the village streets, and the outside of my tent. The tiny lantern cast a soft glow inside my tent. It was a gorgeous night. I felt a sense of well-being and confidence. I felt a sense of peace and awe alone with the beauty of the night.

“By the light, of the silvery moon….”

When I finished, I headed home, with a sense of a new-found confidence and self-awareness.

Tomorrow’s post continues with Part III.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. Bo is discovering that every day provides opportunities to learn new and amazing things.

Shadows of the Olive Leaf

Shadows of the Olive Leaf

Shadows of the Olive Leaf © 2012 Bo Mackison

On my first full day back in Arizona, I spent the last hours of sunlight in the historic mission garden at Tumacacori National Historic Site in southern Arizona. It is one of places I visit most often when I am in Arizona – a tiny historic preservation of an 18th century mission church in ruins. I often find a quiet space – easy to do – and simply sit.

Take in the warmth of the lingering sun which soon will disappear behind the Tumacacori Mountains. Watch soaring hawks dip and slide on the  currents of wind. Listen to the breezes whispering to the leaves. Listen to the voices from the past, voices raised in chanting song. (I don’t have to imagine these voices – there is a recording of the hymns similar to those sung by the O’ohdam centuries ago. It lends a surreal audio experience to the already memory-haunting surroundings.)

I took a few photographs in the garden, but not one of a flower or a desert plant. I captured these olive leaf shadows on the bark of another tree, other trees ou of focus in the background, but adding another layer of shadow and mystery. I captured the blue waters in the silent fountain. A few cracks in an adobe bench, the textures of the hand fired bricks.

It was a fine first day explore of one of my favorite thinking places. Very quiet, a pensive place. This mission garden provides the perfect space for contemplation.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She is taking a few days to adapt to her cross country move from Wisconsin’s snowy-frigid winter to Arizona’s desert-sun winter.

Me and My Sherpa

Today is one of those milestone days, the special ones people celebrate because so many years ago on this certain date, a special event happened.

Today is a special day for my Sherpa and me.

My Sherpa is the guy who hangs around with me and lugs my camera gear when we go on our weekend photo shoots. I’m the one that gets to ooh and aah and click the shutter, and my Sherpa is the one that cheers me on. He’s also the one that usually pulls out the checkbook at the camera supply store and signs the receipt. He’s the one that says, “Go for it!” when I get crazy ideas.

Sherpa and Me

Sherpa and Me © 2008 Bo Mackison

Sometimes we get tired and feel rather down on the ground and spend days searching for the best way to climb all those stairs that make our knees ache. But together we climb to the top, and it’s doable because we don’t have to go it alone. We struggle upwards together.

Me and My Sherpa

Shadow Play, Me and My Sherpa © 2008 Bo Mackison

Other times we’ve made it to the top and we stand together and cheer. Cheer for the really good parts of life and cheer because we are lucky to share our lives this time around. Cheer because we’ve fought the hard parts and survived – and survived to smile again.

32 years ago today, it was 90 degrees in central Illinois and together we stood in a packed church and while I sobbed and he cracked jokes, we both managed to say “I do” at the right time. We both made a promise to do our best, to live our lives together, to be there for each other – good times, bad times, sickness, health. So far we’ve done just that.

And so today we celebrate . . . because life is good. Together.

Oak Leaves and Shadows

Oak Leaves and Shadow

Leaves and Shadows © 2007

“We ascribe beauty to that which is simple;
which has no superfluous parts;
which exactly answers its end;
which stands related to all things;
which is the mean of many extremes.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson, American philosopher and poet (1803-1882)

“I hate quotations.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson, American satirist (as noted above)

The first real fall of snow (only 3 inches) fell Sunday, December 2nd, though tricky Mother Nature capped her display of winter glory with an inch of glassy ice.

When I went to shoot photos yesterday morning, I only went about 10 feet from the start of the path, and fell twice going that far. Therefore today’s photo is a simple one, though it does applaud the mighty oak leaf, who refuses to acknowledge winter’s demise of leaves, and the sun-cast shadows that make playful designs in the snow.