A Photo Stroll in Tubac Arizona

Hanging Fish

Hanging Fish © 2014 Bo Mackison

Sundays are a great day to wander, snap a few shots to capture a place.

Art hangs on so many of the walls in Tubac. The art against the adobe background is striking.

Dry Wash

Dry Wash © 2014 Bo Mackison

A dry wash separates the main part of town. Signs warn to cross only in fair weather. A flash flood following monsoonal rains will fill this wash to overflowing.

Wall Decor

Wall Decor © 2014 Bo Mackison

Moons, cacti, lizards – colorful and happy – decorate the outside walls of many of the shops. One would never run out of display space.

Gyros

Gyros © 2014 Bo Mackison

Happy trucks – the food trucks offer a variety of foods during crowd-pleasing events. Would you enjoy a gyro or a Greek salad from the “Sleek Greek”?

Golden Sculpture, Golden Acacia

Golden Sculpture, Golden Palo Verde © 2014 Bo Mackison

A part of a golden kinetic sculpture gleams against the background of a golden-flowering palo verde.

Shadow Play

Shadow Play © 2014 Bo Mackison

Lines and light and shadow.

WindowLess

WindowLess © 2014 Bo Mackison

What can you see from this window, even though it is blocked with bricks?

Keep Off

Keep Off © 2014 Bo Mackison

In the Midwest, the signs read “Keep Off the Grass.” Not so in Arizona.

Roof Lines

Roof Lines © 2014 Bo Mackison

Blue sky. Yellow roof. Metal awning. Orange rafters. White lights. Open windows.

Sidewalk Shadow

Sidewalk Shadow © 2014 Bo Mackison

Always there are shadows on the pavement, courtesy of the Arizona’s nearly ever-present sun. Tree shadows. My favorites.

Brick Wall and Pavement

Aggregate © 2014 Bo Mackison

Things can sometimes be very simple. A wall. A sidewalk. Lean against the adobe brick, and breathe a while. Rest.

Bench Warmer

Bench Warmer © 2014 Bo Mackison

The bench warmer in bronze. I’d expect to see this esteemed man in a different setting – not in a desert gallery. There is swirling dust about his feet.

These photos were taken with my iPhone using the Hipstamatic app.

One of my favorite parts of this app is its shakability. Shake the cell phone camera and the filter changes, so I’m never sure which filter will appear next. Serendipity photography.

Arched Gate in Tubac

Arched Gate

Arched Gate ©2013 Bo Mackison

“Still round the corner there may wait, a new road or a secret gate.” J.R.R. Tolkien

Sherpa and I were wandering the back roads of Tubac, Arizona, a small community about 50 miles south of Tucson, this past weekend. I’ve walked these roads many times. Tubac is one of my favorite visits – one of the oldest towns in Arizona and one of the largest art communities in Arizona. Tubac prides itself as being a place where history and art merge, and they have reason to be proud.

It is a historian’s paradise – the oldest Spanish Presidio in Arizona dates from 1752 and is maintained with care by a community consortium at the Tubac Presidio Park. Old Town, the original part of town, is often missed by visitors – it’s a treasure trove for architect lovers and photographers. Most of the shops and galleries are in the newer part of Tubac, near the road leading into town. Numbering in the nineties, there is always one more shop to browse or art gallery to visit. Then there’s the Tubac Center of the Arts in the heart of town, an anchor that provides art workshops, lectures, and seasonal exhibitions.

And if all that shopping and art and history isn’t enough, the mountains of the Coronado National Forest loom to the east. The Santa Cruz River, a riparian corridor, offers a ribbon of green and opportunities for birding. Scenery is awe-inspiring in all directions and an easily accessible part of the Anza National Historic Trail is just a few steps away.

In a few weeks – February 6 through the 10 – the village will celebrate the arts in a big way as the 54th Annual Tubac Festival of the Arts springs into life. Hundreds of artists from all over the United States be there. It’s a show I’ve done the past two years. When I decided against hauling all of my large art and tent set-up to Arizona this year, I knew I’d be sorry to miss the Tubac show. But next week I’ll be at the Art Festival, this time as a patron,  and this year I’ll be able to see the whole show.

I spoke to a shop owner, asked her if she was ready for the arrival of the many artists and visitors. She gave me an enthusiastic yes, and explained that many of the shops did enough business during the five-day art festival to support their business and livelihood for the year. An example of how art is such an inherent part of a small community, not only as an extra but as a vital contributor.

If you are in the Tucson area, consider a visit to the Tubac Festival of the Arts, visit some of the shops and galleries, have a look around at the amazing history visible in the very seams of the community. It’s a trip well worth your time.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She loves to photograph the many small communities in southern Arizona where history merges with the arts.

5th Annual Photo Alphabet – Part V

R is for Ritual and Routine.

Early Morning Coffee in the Desert

Early Morning Coffee in the Desert © 2011 Bo Mackison

I have an unusual ritual in the Sonoran Desert. Some might think of it more as a routine – brewing the early morning coffee – but when I brew my first cup of coffee after a night of desert camping, it truly is elevated to the level of ritual.

The assembly of the tiny backpacker stove. The measuring of water from my water supply. The finding of the matches — which usually provides a modicum of panic. The boiling of the water. The measuring of the coffee grounds, safely stored in the bottom of my coffee cup/coffee press. The boiling water poured into the coffee press, the cup tightly closed, plunging the press, waiting the ten minutes for the coffee to brew. And finally sipping that first early morning coffee.

If any one is wondering why I might need coffee while camping in the desert, keep in mind early morning in the winter desert is usually 30˚ to 40˚F, often even colder. That first cup of coffee is like a bit of heaven. Routine, yes. And ritual.

S is for Shadows and Self-portrait.

Shadow Photographer

Shadow Photographer © 2012 Bo Mackison

I have a fascination with taking photos of shadows. They might be photos of leaf shadows on a wall, a repetitive fence shadow on a sidewalk, an intricate wrought iron table and chairs casting an abstract shadow on a patio. I constantly look for shadows to photograph.

And sometimes I photograph self-portrait shadows.

I like these self portraits in shadow. Sometimes I am long and stretched out, as in the above photo taken late in the day. Sometimes there is just a head shot, my hat on my head, protection from the desert sun, hiking stick leaning against me, as I balance and set up the shot.

I always have my camera up to my face. I may be alone or with a companion. I like to study these portrait shadows.

They tell me a bit about the photographer I was at that moment in time. By the clues in the photos I can decipher where I was, who I was with, the time of the year or the time of the day. I may even be able to tell my mood by the way I carry my body. I may remember a conversation I had with a person in passing or a particular event that happened that day.

Another way I capture bits of my life as reminders. Like words on a page of a diary or journal, a photo holds that space for me.

T is for Thresholds and Transitions.

Window, Bench and Door in White

Window, Bench and Door in White © 2010 Bo Mackison

Transitions. I think that very word, and a lump forms in my throat, an ache develops in my chest. No matter what type of transition I face, it takes me awhile to focus and gather my equilibrium before I carry on. The transition can be one I dread or one I look forward to — no matter. The very act of crossing a new threshold, or a threshold I am re-crossing, causes me to stop in my tracks.

I’ve discovered that I can approach transitions in different ways. And that is okay!

I may choose to move towards a threshold, decide I am not quite prepared.. OK. I can sit down — that bench is handy — and pause while I consider my next step.

Maybe I approach the threshold and find I need more time to study the new, do a bit more research or soul-searching. Maybe a look through a window, visualizing the next step is helpful. OK.

Or maybe I am ready. I have considered my options, I know that the next step needs to be taken, or I am simply ready. OK. I open the door and walk through, across the threshold.

This photo is a pretty good summary of me working my way through life, whatever it takes at that moment. Approaching transitions in different ways.

U is for the Universe.

Three Self Portraits

Exploring the Universe © 2011 Bo Mackison

The Universe — worlds upon world upon worlds. Bright and shiny — new places to explore.

In each shiny ball representing part of the universe, there is a tiny self-portrait of me, both looking in and looking out.

V is for Vision.

Double Vision

Double Vision © 2011 Bo Mackison

I like this photo – the one I call Double Vision – because the branch in the foreground still has berries and a leaf hanging on it, the branch slightly behind it is bare. It’s a double branch. But there is more. Look into the background, extend my vision deeper into the landscape and I notice the snow-covered river – the river a conduit for travel.

Will it be an easy trip, perhaps on a flowing river in the early summer on a small skiff with a companion? Or will the trip take place during a drought, the water is low, my boat keep getting snagged. I must keep getting into the water to dislodge it, push it along, even portage it? Perhaps the journey is a cold, lonely trek in the winter, traveling alone on skates or ice cleats, or along the side of the frozen river, pushing through the deep snow?

I look at this photograph and I see the past captured — dried fruits and leaves. And it foretells possible vignettes of the future in metaphor — travel on the river. But all the while, it capturing a moment in the present.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and the owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. The 5th Annual Photo Alphabet ends with  Wonder thru Zen!

Self Portrait of an Artist

Three Self Portraits

Self Portraits © 2012 Bo Mackison

Be faithful to that which exists within yourself. ~ Andre Gide

PART III – ART SHOW

I slept fitfully the night before the art festival’s opening. Perhaps subconsciously I was afraid I would oversleep and be late for my show. Not a chance! At 2 am, I finally got up and wrote a list of everything I needed to take to Tubac with me. Only then did I sleep until the alarm startled me awake.

I did a hurry-up-get-ready, packed the car, and headed east. It was a cloudy morning, unusually cloudy for southern Arizona, and the new day’s light was slowly filling the valley.

I looked towards the Santa Rita mountain range in the east and the clouds broke ever so slightly. I saw a bright rim of red break through and settle above the peak of Mount Wrightson. A flash of beauty. As quickly as the color appeared, it disappeared. It was a lovely good morning salute from the sun and a good omen for the day!

Getting the booth readied for first day of the show was quite exhilarating. Other artists bustled about, opening their tents, arranging their art while greeting other artists, friends, old acquaintances. Both of my neighbors arrived and we chatted about the day as we readied our booths.

I hung my art on the panels. Each finished photograph brought a smile to my face. Out of the thousands of photographs I’ve taken, here were the eighteen finished pieces I had chosen and readied to hang on my temporary gallery wall. Primary colored macro botanicals from the Midwest filled one side of the booth; bright desert flowers and cacti filled the other side.

Seeded Earth Studio was a gallery of bold color and textures, a gallery filled with nature’s promise and beauty.

I finally finished with the pre-show organizing, and stepped into the street. I watched the other artists for a few moments and I didn’t try to contain my excitement. It was a wonderful sight. With only a few minutes left before the opening of this five-day show, I could see artists wearing their different cloaks, some with expectancy and hopefulness, some showing pride in their work. Others looked at the sky as the sun broke through the clouds and lit up the town, and smiled, grateful for the beginning of a beautiful day in the desert. A sense of camaraderie was in the air.

I was in their midst. I stood in my art booth, mindful that I was a part of the whole. I had done the work, I was ready to begin the day.

It was a glorious feeling.

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Bo Mackison is a photographer and owner of Seeded Earth Studio LLC. She is discovering that every day provides opportunities to learn new and amazing things. And she is discovering that as she learns to do amazing things, the world becomes a glorious place.

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.