A Season of Possibilities: Planning My Phoenix Arts Calendar with ChatGPT

It started with a screenshot of my Gammage tickets and a question: What else could I attend?

I already had my Broadway season lined up at ASU Gammage. But Phoenix offers so much more, and I wanted to explore the seasons at Phoenix Theatre, the Phoenix Symphony, Arizona Opera, and Herberger Theater Center. Could I add another subscription? Would individual tickets make more sense? And how would any of it fit around the commitments already on my calendar?

I could have figured it out myself. It would have meant opening websites, comparing production dates, finding individual performance times, reviewing ticket packages, and checking my calendar repeatedly. Then I would have needed to organize everything into something I could actually use.

Instead, I asked ChatGPT to help.

What followed was a surprisingly useful example of how AI can turn a collection of possibilities into a practical plan.

Starting with What I Already Had

My existing Gammage tickets became the starting point. Those performances were already purchased, with specific dates and times, so everything else needed to fit around them.

The first step was to compare the other organizations’ seasons with those fixed dates. That gave me a broad view of the possibilities: locally produced musicals, symphony concerts, opera, and Herberger performances.

But a production’s date range is only the beginning. Knowing that a musical runs for several weeks doesn’t tell me which performance I should attend.

The next step made the response much more valuable: checking my actual Google Calendar and selecting specific dates and times.

The Logic Was What Impressed Me

I was pleased with the options, but I was especially pleased with the reasoning behind them.

The plan considered the differences between organizations and their ticket packages. A fixed subscription might work well for one season, while a flexible package or individual tickets could be a better choice for another.

It also considered the demands on my time. My calendar includes family activities, photography events, camera club meetings, gallery receptions, artwork deliveries, and other commitments. An empty space between two appointments doesn’t always mean I can comfortably attend a performance there.

Allowing time to arrive, park, and get settled mattered.

One particularly useful example involved Gershwin to Garland at Herberger. The evening performance conflicted with my camera club meeting. The afternoon performance offered a way to enjoy the concert while keeping the evening commitment.

Another involved the Phoenix Symphony’s Paul Simon concert and Arizona Opera’s The Pirates of Penzance. Their Sunday performances competed for the same afternoon. Choosing Paul Simon on Saturday evening meant I could potentially attend both.

Those are the kinds of details that take time to uncover when you are doing the research yourself.

My Calendar Needed Some Interpretation

There was also a reminder that a calendar cannot explain everything about a person’s life.

Mine includes recurring soccer, swim, and gymnastics practices for my granddaughters. Those entries were initially treated as scheduling conflicts. I clarified that I don’t regularly attend the practices, so they could be ignored when planning my theatre outings.

That distinction matters. I want to know about the girls’ activities, but having something on my calendar does not necessarily mean I will be there.

Games, meets, tournaments, and other family commitments still deserve consideration. Regular practices don’t need to rule out a performance.

The exchange helped refine the plan around how I actually use my calendar.

Checking the Details Changed the Recommendation

The research also caught an error in the earlier description of Phoenix Theatre’s Big Six package.

The actual package includes SUFFS, Mary Poppins, Unlock’d, Sweeney Todd, In the Heights, and Legally Blonde. Spamalot and Kimberly Akimbo would require additional tickets or an eligible exchange.

I appreciated that correction. It made the recommendation more useful because it connected the shows I might want to see with what the package actually provides.

The response also identified a few dates that could not confidently be called clear. An uncertain birthday-event entry and a trip shown on a shared calendar needed qualification. Rather than presenting every option as equally workable, the plan explained where more context was needed.

From Research to Something I Could Use

By the end, I had specific performance choices organized by venue, along with explanations for the selections and the remaining questions.

I could see where a subscription might be worthwhile, where individual tickets would give me more freedom, and where a different performance time solved a conflict.

Nothing had been purchased or added to my calendar. I still had the opportunity to decide how much of this season I wanted to take on.

And that is important. I enjoy theatre, music, photography, and making art. I want a calendar that gives me things to look forward to while leaving room for the rest of my life.

The Time Saved Was Remarkable

This work came together in a very short amount of time compared with what it would have taken me to research and organize it on my own.

The benefit went beyond gathering information. ChatGPT compared the options, applied scheduling logic, checked the details, and explained its choices in a way I could review.

I was very pleased with the response. It gave me a clear path through a season full of possibilities—and let me spend more time imagining the performances I might enjoy than sorting through the calendars needed to get there.

Through Each Other’s Eyes: An Afternoon About Photography, Storytelling, and Finding Your Own Voice

Yesterday I attended Through Each Other’s Eyes: Behind the Lens at Western Spirit: Scottsdale’s Museum of the West. A photography friend Don H. also attended and I also had a chance to sit down and talk to Kim G. I had a chance to revisit with Kerrick James and Richard Jackson. I went expecting an interesting photography seminar. I came away thinking about something much larger: what it actually means to become an artist with a camera.

The setting itself seemed appropriate. Before the program even began, I found myself photographing the Western Spirit Museum—the rust-colored metal architecture against an intensely blue Arizona sky, Western sculptures tucked into the landscape, patterns etched into the concrete, and long geometric shadows stretching across the walkways.

It was one of those places where architecture, sculpture, light, and landscape seem designed to make a photographer slow down and look.

Three Photographers, Three Very Different Paths

The seminar brought together photographers Scott Baxter, Joel Grimes, and Jeff Kida. What made the conversation particularly valuable was that they did not represent one prescribed way of being a photographer.

Their careers and approaches are different, yet several common ideas kept emerging.

One was the importance of reinvention.

A photography career—or an artistic life—isn’t necessarily a straight line. Styles change. Technology changes. Clients change. More importantly, photographers themselves change.

There can be a point when simply making technically good photographs is no longer enough. You begin asking different questions:

What am I trying to say?

Why am I photographing this?

What makes this image mine?

That distinction between photographer and artist stayed with me.

The Long Story Matters

Another idea that resonated with me was the value of committing to a subject over time.

Some photographs are discoveries. You encounter something wonderful, recognize the opportunity, and make the picture.

But a body of work is different.

You return.

You research.

You photograph again.

You begin noticing things you didn’t see the first time.

Eventually, the individual photographs stop being isolated images and begin speaking to one another. Together they become a story.

That idea feels especially relevant to the work I am creating now. I have been thinking increasingly in terms of series rather than individual photographs—images connected by place, memory, history, or experience.

A single photograph can be beautiful.

A collection can say something.

The Discipline Behind the Photograph

There was also an important reminder that photography isn’t only about inspiration.

Long-term documentary work requires patience and discipline. Editorial photography requires the ability to understand a place and determine which details actually communicate its character. Fine-art photography requires making decisions that go beyond simply recording what was in front of the camera.

All of those approaches require intention.

That may have been one of my biggest takeaways from the afternoon:

Don’t just photograph what something looks like. Decide what you want the viewer to understand or feel about it.

That changes everything.

And Then There Was the Light

Walking around Western Spirit reinforced the lesson. 

I photographed the obvious subjects—the Western sculptures and the architecture—but I was equally interested in things that might easily have been overlooked.

The relationship between weathered steel and desert vegetation.

And especially the shadows.

At one point, the structural columns cast enormous diagonal shadows across the walkway. Nothing dramatic was happening there. No grand Western landscape. No elaborate subject.

Just sunlight, architecture, and concrete.

Yet it may have been one of the most photographic scenes I encountered.

It was a good reminder that seeing is often more important than searching.

A Question I’m Taking Home

Photography seminars can easily become discussions about cameras, lenses, lighting equipment, software, and technique. Those things matter, of course.

But this conversation went somewhere more interesting.

It made me think about voice.

After years of taking photographs, what subjects do I repeatedly return to? What stories am I uniquely positioned to tell? Which images belong together? And when does a collection of photographs become something more—a coherent body of artwork?

Those questions are particularly meaningful to me right now as I continue exploring photography alongside painterly image-making and creating work for exhibitions.

I don’t think an artist necessarily wakes up one morning having “found” a style.

I think you recognize it gradually.

You make photographs.

You experiment.

You revisit old work.

You notice what keeps pulling you back.

And eventually, you realize there has been a thread running through the work all along.

Through Each Other’s Eyes

The title of the program turned out to be wonderfully appropriate.

We may stand in the same place, photograph the same landscape, or even point our cameras toward the same subject—but we don’t necessarily make the same photograph.

We bring our histories with us.

Our curiosity.

Our experiences.

Our memories.

Our sense of beauty.

And our own way of seeing.

That is probably what I appreciated most about spending an afternoon listening to three accomplished photographers talk about their work.

I didn’t leave wanting to photograph like any of them.

I left wanting to understand more clearly how I photograph like me.

Through Each Other's Eyes website

Seminar Price $75 and includes access to the museum. light breakfast and lunch.

Joel Grimes website

Scott Baxter website

Jeff Kida website

#Photography #ThroughEachOthersEyes #WesternSpirit #Scottsdale #ArizonaPhotography #PhotographyArt #VisualStorytelling #PhotographicVoice #BehindTheLens #PhotographyJourney

The End of the Luggage Saga: Karen’s Bag Is Home! 🧳🎉

 

After Warsaw, Paris, the Dordogne, a château, missed connections, shipping labels, customs questions, UPS, Luggage Forward, and weeks of wondering where it would end up, Karen’s wandering suitcase has finally completed its journey.

It made it home to Rhode Island! 🎉🎉🎉

For anyone who has been following this story, this suitcase has had quite an adventure. It was supposed to accompany Karen on our trip through France. Instead, it took a European vacation largely on its own—and missed the part of the trip when Karen actually needed everything packed inside it.

Getting it home became a group effort. There were messages back and forth with Beth, arrangements at Château Marouatte, shipping labels to coordinate, international shipping requirements to decipher, and finally a scheduled pickup through Luggage Forward.

Then came the message we had all been waiting for:

“Hi all, my bag has made it home!!!”

Of course, Beth immediately supplied the perfect response:

“That’s wonderful news!!! Do you even remember what was in it?” 😂

Karen did remember—mostly. But unpacking brought a bittersweet moment. Seeing everything inside reminded her how much easier the trip would have been if the suitcase had actually been traveling with her rather than pursuing its own European itinerary.

Still, there is something wonderfully satisfying about finally being able to say:

Warsaw ✔️
Paris ✔️
Dordogne ✔️
Château Marouatte ✔️
Rhode Island ✔️
HOME! ✔️

And so ends the saga of Karen’s suitcase—probably the most well-traveled piece of luggage in our group.

It arrived late. Very late. It took the scenic route. It caused plenty of frustration. It gave all of us a story we certainly weren’t expecting.

But in the end, Karen and her suitcase are finally reunited.

THE END. ❤️🧳

Although after everything this suitcase has been through, I think it deserves to keep those Warsaw, Paris, Dordogne and USA travel stickers forever.

#KarensLuggageSaga #HomeAtLast #LostLuggage #TravelAdventures #France2026 #Dordogne #ChateauMarouatte #RhodeIsland #TravelStories #TheEnd