Art in Speedway: Cy Twombly

Cy Twombly died earlier this year, a fact which makes me sad 

because I'd intended to write him, to tell him how much I enjoy 

his scratchy drawings and his big, splotchy paintings.

His work makes me smile to see how the marks exist on

the page, apparently just for their own sake, defining the space

in which they live, supporting each other.

In spite of their titles, they don't portray things so much 

as they are just themselves, dancing across the page. 

Exposed

Finding no room at the Speedway Inn, Joseph, Mary 

and their Baby were found, huddled in thin flannel blankets, 

frozen from exposure. 

Cold Blue

The field of snow, bare trees and gray clouds 

at the Coke Field was relieved only 

by the patch of blue sky reflected in the creek.

Detritis 'n' Excessius

Christmas is in the past. The tattered gift wrap 

brought curbside for pick-up by the trash collectors 

lies, wilted and bedraggled, on the 

tatty gray remains of yesterday's snow.

What looked pretty and inviting as it lay beneath 

the Christmas trees now seems like tawdry shards 

of our brief excursions

into commercialized generosity. 

Silver and Snow

We got a blizzard in our area this morning, 
about 8 to 10 inches of snow started falling before dawn.

This pales in comparison to the big snow storm our area 
experienced in 1978, with temperatures below zero 

and winds whipping drifts of snow through the abandoned streets. 

The city was virtually deserted, 

with everyone hunkered down inside their homes.

Today's snowfall is minor by comparison.

The overcast today flattened out the scenery.

I am hoping for clear skies tomorrow morning,

when pretty pictures may be made.

Would somebody please nestle the children?

Two five-year-old relatives, Audrey (T) and Savannah (B) nestled 

in front of the TV to watch an animated movie, "Brave." 

And watch it, they did, lying quietly throughout, dressed in 

the appropriate princess gowns.

Christmas day, my brother, sister-in-law, and I gathered at

their nephew's home to celebrate the day. In all, there were three

sets of parents, eight children five and under, and one big,

friendly dog named Jackson, with two cats

trotting in and out as they dared.

My nephew Joseph's triplets are pretty much non-verbal

as of yet, though they do communicate some 

with sign language. Their mom lined up their chairs

for meal time, where they were joined by their

11-month-old cousin Maggie, whose little

head can be seen lower right.

After the movie was done, all the mayhem associated with unbridled

avarice broke out as presents were distributed. A sea of little 

people milled about, eventually evolving into a procession with toy

cars and push carts trotting through the house in a big circle,

a never-ending race fueled by excitement, sugar, and followed

by one large dog, lap after lap after lap. 

Merry Christmas

Christmas Eve was overcast and, when I went downtown 

to take care of last minute errands, the city seemed just as gray. 

Only a few people were around and, without the usual hustle, 

the buildings looked abandoned, which they were. 

The bustle of last minute shopping had taken itself to the outskirts 

of the city, where the traffic stood in line 

at the intersections and people stood in line at the stores.

I made my way through the traffic, avoided most of the congestion

in the stores, and came home to wrap my presents and 

to talk with friends and family before I watched "A Christmas Story"

on TV. As always, I laughed at scenes as though I'd never

seen the movie before, as I'm certain I'll laugh when 

I see the movie next year. The critics didn't like it

when it first came out, but the people have spoken.

It's a classic.

All I Want for Solstice

Winter came in with the solstice, right on schedule, 

bringing cold rain, hail, gusty winds and snow flurries. 

It then warmed up and gave us sunny, blue skies.

Apparently, this is just a respite, as we are to get snow

for Christmas. A white Christmas. Ugh!

It will be pretty for about fifteen minutes, then will

turn to dirty slush and ochre-colored ice.

To top it off, I hate being cold and count the lengthening

days as just another chore to get through

until spring returns, bringing green grass and flowers. 

Presents for the Kids, Part 2

I finished shopping for the kids today, so I now have a present 

each for eight children aged 5 and under. It's easy when they're so young,

but I still try to find them to suit the child. What is difficult is

finding age-appropriate stuff that hasn't been commercialized into

plastic banality, creating only plastic, banal adults.

Two of them are now old enough for beautifully illustrated

picture books. Hopefully, they will be captured by the color and line

of the drawings, entering into the world of the written word,

guided by art and design.

These pictures are of the animated window displays from the old 

L.S. Ayres & Company Department store, which was located

at the corner of Washington and Meridian Streets from 1905 until

it was closed in 1990. Along with this display, furniture and decor 

from the Ayres' Tea Room was kept and re-created 

in the Indiana State Museum. During the Christmas season,

one can enjoy the store's displays, Christmas train and

the Tea Room's famous Chicken Velvet Soup.

Presents for the Kids

After shopping for Christmas presents at Mass Ave Toys,

 I stopped in at the Starbucks across the street from the store for

some hot coffee, well,  really, for one of my favorite foo-foo coffee drinks,

The place was busy with customers, shoppers and residents from

the surrounding neighborhood.

The place was warm and dark, one of the numerous businesses 

that inhabit the restored storefronts in the area. I think the neighborhood's 

success is due in great part to the fact that the brick, mortar and wood

are to human scale, where people don't feel as anonymous as they

might in the bigger, slick constructions just a few blocks away.

I liked the light fixtures in the coffee shop, with their light cord 

wound on old wooden pulleys.

Yesterday's rainstorm brought a cold front, accompanied 

by the season's first snowfall. People and their cars all trod carefully

on the frozen walks and streets, many finding shelter in the numerous

restaurants and pubs in the neighborhood. The Old Point Tavern,

at the corner of Massachusetts Avenue and Alabama Street,

is a standby, the second-oldest pub in Indy.

The line of red lights at the left mark Mass Ave Toys, 

while sculptor Julian Opie's electronic dancing woman 

marks the corner.

I Wanted to Look Pretty ...

I knew Thursday might be the last day to work on my little assignment, 

so wanted to present a nice appearance for particular people. 

I wore a new pair of trousers I'd just hemmed, made of 

a tiny houndstooth check material. I wore a nice lace top 

that contrasted well with the weave and a black tunic cardigan. 

It looked pretty decent together.

My hair looked sleek and shiny and behaved 

well this morning, too.

It was raining lightly when I left the house, but the temperature was decent.

I caught the bus from home just as the downpour hit. Snug and warm

on the bus, I wasn't too concerned; I had another bus to catch but that hadn't 

presented much of a hassle in the past. Did I tell you it was raining?

I crossed the street to wait for the second bus. Commuters drove past where

I was standing, throwing up five foot walls of rainwater that was

pooled near the curb. Great splotches of water (re)rained upon my

(formerly) shiny head, sprayed like a fusillade of bullets across my raincoat,

and dotted my new trousers with giant wet spots, not once, not twice,

but four times. I was torn between using my umbrella against

the falling rain, or as a shield against the onslaught from the street.

Neither effort was effective. I couldn't get away from it.

The fourth assault by passing cars resulted

in street soil-tainted water being splashed on my chest and

running down between my breasts, into the lacy bra that was

underneath my pretty lace top. The bus turned the corner and stopped 

to pick me up just as I began to cry from frustration.

I had wanted to look pretty.
When I left home I was Angelina Jolie, Helen Mirren, and
Ellen Barkin. By the time I got to work I was just
another sodden, bedraggled, overweight woman who wanted
to earn a few bucks for Christmas money.

Merry Christmas, everybody. Merry Christmas, Joe.

Cloud Coral Sandwich

Sunday, my walk to the Coke Field had been a gift of blue skies, 

scudding clouds and moderate temperatures. As the

day progressed, cloud cover formed, bringing showers.

I was sitting at my computer when I happened to see the sky had

turned coral, casting its light on everything.

These pictures were taken at about a quarter to seven, 

as the sun sank away behind the treeline, 

somewhere in Hendricks County.

The lavender hills in the background are 

actually clouds, one bit of the cloud sandwich

that held a slash of blue sky between.

Joe

As I waited for the morning bus that would take me to work,

I watched the lights moving through the dawn traffic,

both leading and creating a trail as they passed,

carrying people on their way to office buildings down town. 

I considered the reason I show up for assignments;

other than the extra bit of money in my pocketbook, 

there is only one.

In a room full of people, seemingly cut from

gray cardboard, his smile brings me to life.

He makes his own little sun in a room of shadows.

I count my day a success just to catch a glimpse

of him. Quiet and kind, he does not know

he makes me bloom and is my muse.

He is a little light in the morning traffic,

helping me to find words he will likely never read,

in books both written and unwritten,

to make paintings finding their way to the end of my

brush, guided by the maps in my sketchbooks.

I do it for myself, but it is my gift to him.

I am a shadow of gray cardboard,

full of color inside.

Textured Tuesday: Slashed and Gnarled

I've walked by this tree hundreds of times, 

but I never took notice of the cuts in its trunk 

until a couple days ago. After I'd taken a couple pictures of it, 

I questioned myself about why I'd just then paid any 

attention to the saw marks. Was it the way the sunlight 

fell on the tree, accentuating the grid cut into its gnarly base?

Some years back, the parks department installed 

a paved jogging path around the perimeter of our 

neighborhood park. The root of the tree must have interfered

with man's plan for the asphalt path, so the lines were cut

to inhibit its growth. Maybe. I'm just speculating.

The tree is doing just fine, though.

Man's plan -- thwarted.

A December Gift

I fully expected to find the Coke Field a mass of gray branches 

sticking out above lifeless grass. Of course, it wasn't; denuded of their

leaves, the trees and stems revealed their taupe, mauve and

maroon winter wardrobes. Sneaky bits of green grass remain,

as well as moss, and the day's blue sky shown in the creek.

During my walk, I met a man walking his dogs. 

He remarked on the beautiful day we'd been given, 

a gift in the middle of December. As I watched, the clouds

raced across the blue sky, and the sunlight danced 

a tango on the trees and field, and I had to agree.

Workday Scenes

A cloudy morning greeted me this past week when I left for work. 

Downtown, the lights in the buildings and on the streets provided 

whatever twinkle and flash was to be had, lending the only

color to the otherwise drab granite and limestone covered buildings.

The bus stop outside my workplace is near a Hispanic-owned auto 

repair business. Above, the proverbial "junk yard dog," 

who provides security. Accompanied by his mate, a black female 

pit bull who recently had puppies, the two are effective 

deterrents to would-be thieves.

When working during the winter, we generally stay inside all day. 

If lucky, we will be provided the gift of sunlight during 

our journeys home. This bit of glorious purple and orange 

led me home about a week ago, and was gone 

by the time I stepped into my front door.

A Pay Check for Somebody

All over the city, new sidewalks, drainage systems, and curbing is being installed.

In Speedway, the narrow side streets have each, in their turn, been torn up

so that new sewage lines can be put in place.

Outside the entry to my workplace, a new retention pond has been

created, lined with rip-rap, to help alleviate flooding 

in the neighborhood. New sidewalks have also been poured,

which will be greatly appreciated by the disabled folk who live nearby.

While all of this has been needed, and some may have been 

long-planned, I think the scale of the operation, taking in a great part 

of metro Indy, is due to the Economic Stimulus Act; our virulently

Republican government condemns the operation, but is avidly

using the monies received to do the much-needed work.

While I have no proof that this is so, the amount of work being done

for the past 4 years seems unprecedented.

Off-Center

While waiting for the bus the other morning, I was looking around

for something, something to take a picture of,

when I noticed the shrubbery at the corner had been removed.

Their absence revealed a cement base, perhaps for a security light.

With rocks in its water-filled center, it looked, however,

like an outdoor swimming pool for faeries had been revealed

to the passing traffic. Or a small drinking pool for birds.

While I took my pictures, I set my tote against the signpost, 

with my ever-present coffee mug keeping it company on the sidewalk.

It's a Beautiful Morning

As I left for work Wednesday morning, the day was dawning clear. 

The horizon to the east was just beginning to show pink as

the sun rose from behind the treeline. One bright star glittered

against the remains of an inky sky. I even started to sing --

"It's a beautiful morning,

I think I'll go outside for a while ..."

But it was cold. Frost covered just about everything.

A few weeks ago, roses bloomed, one last gasp of color before

a shiver of winter air flung their petals to the ground,

one kind of beauty replacing the other.

P.S.: This is mostly bull shit,
I'm already tired of the cold and
want spring to return. Now.

Entry

Visitors to the Indiana State Museum are greeted by this tall sculpture, 

INDIANA, its letters standing on one anothers' shoulders.
I imagine it wrapped in a big trench coat, running about the country 
pretending its a bigger more powerful state.

 The drive outside the main entry has this low-key installation 
at its center. The buildings in the background are hotels 

and parking garages. The winter brown brush is a wildflower garden.

Textured Tuesday: Black with Blue

Someone must have driven over the newly coated lot, 

picking up the fresh sealer as they went. Whatever, it created

the opportunity for the blue stripe to take on added character, 

creating the illusion of depth as it weaves itself from front to back

of the gray and black patches.

Winter Blue

The warmer seasons have faded away, leaving only traces 

of their color and flair. The browns above have

hints of their complementary blues, saving them from

drab boredom. The wilted blooms below

look as though they've been out all night, only to

be caught off guard by the colder temperatures.

Can you say, "Rode hard and put away wet?"

Acne Laughs ...

Ha-ha-ha! Ho-ho-ho!

Downtown Indy was busy this morning.

I first went to the Indiana State Museum which was bustling

with families milling about with kids of various ages.

There was a choir singing Christmas songs, with dutiful

moms and dads in attendance to see their beloved spawn 

sing all the standards at about three-quarters the intended speed.

I finished my shopping there, then went to Circle Centre Mall,

which was also packed with people in various stages

of holiday shopping duress - two weeks out, so still too early

for outright desperation. The dominant group

this weekend was the overwhelming number of teen-age

girls running about, their long, coltish legs sticking

out below little cheer-leading outfits, and their

hair as be-ribboned as any Russian gymnast's.

Apparently, there was a competition being held at the adjacent 

Indiana Convention Center and the girls were biding their time between 

events by wandering the stores with their parents.

Oh, yeah, "acne laughs at soap and water."

Walker

At various times during the year, I stand at the corner of Indiana Avenue 

and Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Drive to catch a bus.

Located on the northwest corner of downtown Indianapolis,

these buildings are two of the few remaining traces of what had once

been a vibrant African-American community.

Madame C.J. Walker was the country's first African-American millionaire.

Her skills as an entrepreneur made a success of her hair care products, which are 

still sold today. She incorporated her business in 1911 in Indianapolis 

as Madam C.J. Walker Manufacturing Company, producing 

a line of beauty and hair products for black women.

A life-long philanthropist, Madame Walker supported the NAACP

as well as the historically black colleges. She began the development of

the Walker Theatre and Building before her death in 1919. The project was

completed by her daughter and became a center of pride for the 

African-American community from the 1920s through the 1950s.

Along with the decline of the surrounding neighborhood, 

the building faded from neglect, becoming nearly derelict 

until its restoration in the late 1980s.

I've ended up by taking photos of the sign atop the building 

in various seasons and weather. The photo above 

was taken a couple days ago, while the top picture

was taken in April, eight months ago to the day.

I haven't been able to locate any details about this beautiful 

little building. When I moved to Indy in 1978, I knew 

the building as Arlene's Records. It's brick exterior was painted white,

surrounding structures were unsalvageable and were demolished.

This building has been restored in recent years and

enlarged to accommodate apartments and office space.

It's always been just about my favorite structure.

  

Sorta Straight and Very Crooked

Okay, so I'm just waiting for the bus to work, standing near the corner 

of  Indiana Avenue and Dr.Martin Luther King, Jr. Drive.

The day has brought the city a beautiful sunrise, but I can't really 

see it where I'm standing. I'm looking around for something that might

make a decent picture. I look up to the the telephone lines,

running more or less straight, contrasted with the tree branches,

growing towards the light. There it is, my picture. 

I just wish more of the red in the berries could be seen.

Traffic is headed into town at about a quarter of eight,

making an angled turn south from MLK Drive onto West Street.

The tall building in the center is "Big Blue," the JW Marriott

Hotel that opened almost a year ago. The building

is covered in blue glass that catches and reflects the sky

in such a way as to always make the building interesting

to look at, as though it were a painting.

Centered

In 2009, the IUPUI Student Center was opened, 

establishing a place for student activities outside of the classrooms.

The school was originally started as a commuter college, 

but has grown and evolved into a large,

university campus 

The top photo shows the bell tower, located on the southeast corner 

of the building, while the photo above is of the main entry,

looking north towards the bookstore and coffee shop.