Textured Tuesday: Mossy Redbuds

The  morning began gray, with light showers, as I walked from 

the IUPUI campus to the Central Canal.

I was on my way to the River Promenade, which continued

the path where the canal walk ended, taking it over the 

White River to the limestone lined River Promenade.

I've walked the Promenade before and always found new beauty 

in the huge blocks of limestone stacked along the sides of

the shaded lane. Spring showed in the many redbud, magnolia and

dogwood trees blooming along the lane. Moss and lichen

gave the trees a new wardrobe of plush mottled green.

April Showers ...

After a winter that lasted much longer than anyone wanted, 

April eased into spring living up to its couplet,

"April showers bring May flowers."

The flowers have started to show, but I'm hoping their

best show will start later this week, with May.

This grouping of umbrellas hangs in the hallway

of the Herron School of Art and Design.

They appear to be motorized, although I don't

think I've ever seen them move.

The weather was dreary all day yesterday,

began raining in the afternoon,

continuing throughout Sunday. The rivers are

swollen and overflowing, an astonishing difference

from last year which saw a drought that had

begun with winter and lasted into fall.

The Herron umbrellas seemed an appropriate

expression for the outdoor mood.

Art Where You Find It

Student projects are displayed throughout the halls 

and galleries of the Herron School of Art and Design. 

The swooping, dipping swags

 and shadows along one wall caught my eye. 

Draped paper was anchored by black dots 

and cylinders undulating like a broken necklace, 

beads held only by the links of string.

It must have been the result of of a "Design in

Materials" class, inspired by generations of graduation

pranks just about everywhere.

Other than for its intended purpose, I don't think

I've seen toilet paper put to better use.  

A Bit of Norwich in Speedway :-]

While out walking around a Speedway neighborhood earlier this week, 

I happened to see this bird house. It reminded me of photos

posted by Dive of Small Glass Planet of his town, Norwich UK.

While the birdhouse is covered with just plain river rocks,

it nevertheless reminded me of Dive's photos of the beautiful old

buildings made of flints.

How Cubism Was Invented ...

...The model moved.
For several weeks I attended a painting class that was divided
into sessions for still life and portrait painting. I hated the first sessions;
I spent four years in high school art classes drawing still lifes 
and swore I'd never do another one. The ones set up for the little class 
were nothing I'd have chosen for myself; I was neither stirred 
nor motivated by them. 
I also did four years of drawing portraits where I showed 
a knack for distorting the features of my subjects. 
Over time, I learned to draw them "correctly,"
but at the cost of individuality, of any distinct personality of line.
So I was torn when I drew this young woman, between the need to 
regain that ability make the painting "look like" my subject
and just painting for the love of color. 
Yep, she sure is crooked, but she resembles her real self, too.
I hadn't painted a human from life for, like, forever, and it shows, 
but I am happy that I just chose to let the brush sort of
fall where it wanted, to let the color do its job.

The Color of Clouds

For the past several weeks, I have been attending a small painting class downtown 

at the Herron School of Art and Design, on the IUPUI campus.

It has been interesting to see the displays of student projects that have

been hung in various spots throughout the building.

Among the ones I saw tonight was this project that I assume was meant

to  demonstrate the effect of reflected light on a surface.

I couldn't see inside the cones other than for some bits of solid color

at the scalloped edges of the shapes. The color inside each reflected 

a pastel version of itself onto the cone above.

As pretty as it is, it could make a really stunning effect

if enlarged to spread over a bigger surface.

This is to prove that digital images can be grainy. 

The photographer (me!) insisted on recording for posterity 

the reflection of moonlight on the edges on clouds.  

It looked to me like a milky streak in a chunk of blue agate.

A Rainy Day

It was gray all day. Rain had been forecast and I delayed going for a walk 

even though I knew Now would definitely be better than Later.

Grass in the Coke Field is already ankle high, much of it squishy

underfoot from earlier showers.

As I skirted the edge of the little woods, I looked up to see a large nest,

too big for most birds in the area, too weird to be a squirrel's abode.

Glancing into the still leafless branches, I saw I was

being watched by a large hawk. She was at least a foot tall, 

her herringbone patterned breast echoing the patterns of 

the naked trees behind her. Too fast, I reached for my camera,

startling her into flight. I looked for her, but she had flown

to another shelter, waiting for me to leave.

I'll go back another day. And another.

I walked on, feeling a mist of rain on my face that

turned into drops, then became a shower.

Somehow, I convinced myself I could walk between

the raindrops and enjoy the shower without becoming sodden.

I took the time to visit some trees, to check on 

a couple redbuds and a plane tree in the neighborhood,

and to try for pictures of rain on these pretty trees.

Textured Tuesday: Double Stop Helix

Last week, the American Pianists Association hosted the finals of the 

2013 ProLiance Energy Classical Fellowship Awards.

The APA has as its mission to "discover, promote and advance the careers

of young, American, world-class jazz and classical pianists."

Every two years, the association produces either the Classical or Jazz

Fellowship Awards, seven-month long competitions featuring

talented American pianists 18 to 30 years.

The winners receive a $50,000 cash award plus career assistance,

publicity, and professional representation. 

In conjunction with the competition, the Indianapolis Downtown Artists &

Dealers Association sponsored a public art project using pianos

to create works of art. Of the eight artists chosen, four painted grand

pianos, while the others used their instruments to create sculptures

from the parts. The pianos were on view on Monument Circle from

April 11 through April 20, during which time bids were taken

for their sale at auction.

For the sculpture shown above, artist Mark Sommers used 

the internal bracing, piano wire and hammers 

to construct "Double Stop Helix," 

while base was made from the piano's keys.

Ducks Think They're Pigeons ...

Earlier, this pair of mallards had been seen shopping at the neighborhood pharmacy 

just down the street, where they had tried to buy lip balm. 

The cashier asked them how they wanted to pay for the Chapstick,

the drake told her, "just put it on my bill."

Budding Beauty

The dreary rain this past week matched the sad events playing out in Boston. 

With some resolution, the weather dawned sunny and chilly on Saturday

to relieve the mood. The rivers and streams all over the area 

are flooded, but people are happy to be out and about, 

doing errands, taking part in events all around the city.

The magnolia that bloomed just a week ago already are battered

and worn from the the rain and winds. But they have been replaced 

by another round of flowers, such as these delicately hued

flowers on the trees in front of the Federal Court House.

Can Dots Also Be Square?

For some reason, my eye just loves the way the grid of the heat vent 

works with the printed design on the flank of a city bus.

They seem to complement each other.

Waiting for the Moment to Pass ...

This Canada goose waited while its mate took a few moments 

to de-stress. They were standing in the drive at work,

surrounded by parked cars and people walking in and out 

of the building. The black surface of the parking lot

must resemble that of a lake, especially when it's been raining

and water streams over its surface. Why would the geese be

so attached to it otherwise? Even the flat roof of the building would

be more private, a veritable goose spa, compared to the busy lot.

The geese leave turds the size of cigarillos and have chased some 

employees, so goose wranglers have been called in to limit

their presence. Other than the turds, I don't much mind them;

 they're the closest things to office pets we have.

Back in the Sticks

There I was, just walking along the street, wondering where 

I might find a picture, when buried among the twigs and branches 

of a tall bit of shrubbery, I saw these fresh bits 

of red and green leaves emerging from their long winter

to perform their seasonal duties. 

A Bit of Pink

It has rained all day, beginning this morning with a light shower 

and increasing to thunderstorms.

 This evening, I noticed some of the magnolias' petals, new blooms, 

have already become tattered  and fallen from the trees. 

There are now leaves showing in that beautiful shade of light green 

that always speaks of fresh promise.

When the rains have gone, this redbud, which had only shown

a few tiny clusters of buds, will be covered in its own 

fuzzy sweater of tiny pink flowers.

Textured Tuesday: Circles in Dimension

The circles moved in and out, acquiring dimension,

becoming hexagons. 

They hypnotized me. They spoke to me.

 They form the sides of a trash can.

They're He-e-e-re!

I spent quite of bit of time recently keeping an eye on the magnolia trees, 

watching for signs that the buds would shed their little sweaters,

blooming into the beautiful flowers that swathe the trees

in gowns of mauve and white.

Finally ...

After seemingly interminable days of cold and drear,

the flowers have arrived.

The hyacinths have opened in a neighborhood flower bed ...

This colony of daffodils converse among themselves

on a traffic island, their chatter sounding

like petals fluttering in the chilly breeze ...

And this little fairy door in the tree

looking for all the world like a tiny pope hat,

waiting for the gnomes who reside there to return

from their winter in Florida.

A Head for Beauty

Eunice spends her days traveling back and forth 

between work and home in a hot pink tote.

She serves mutely, with no thought given 

to her personal tastes and desires, as her mistress

learns the basics of hair styling.

She begins her career with a full head of hair then,

as the course progresses, her hair is cut, braided, partitioned

with foil for coloring, and cut again until, her career

complete, her brunette tresses have disppeared. 

Eunice will become bald, sacrificed to beauty.

Rainy Spring Evening, Downtown Indy

Last night during my painting class, heavy rain swept through the area. 

The noise from the hail on the roof of the art building was alarming; 

stones the size of walnuts were reported in some areas. 

The rain has continued since, although reduced to gentle showers.

Thursday evening, as I walked downtown from 

the Indiana Landmarks Center to meet my bus, I enjoyed

seeing the the flowers on the trees beginning to bloom

and the lights reflecting off the streets, glistening from the rain.

Irony, Oxymoron, and WTF?

I looked up this morning from my reading, 

to see this young woman 

on her way to work, a dress shoe on one foot 

and a surgical boot on the other.

While the heel is not ridiculously high,

I still wonder about the need to wear it while

the other foot is recovering from an injury.

UPDATE:  A friend, who had to wear this style
of surgical boot for nine months, told me that the girl is probably
wearing the one shoe from her closet that most closely matches
the height of the boot. My friend had to find this out on her
own; after suffering from hip and back pain because
of unaligned heel heights, she took it upon herself to wear
a shoe that matched that of the boot. Problem solved.

Working

As the bus approaches the stop where I am waiting, 

I contemplate the work for today - not the job where I am expected,

but the outline and shape for my next book. 

What do I want to say? What will be it's purpose?

How can I tell my story so that other people, who

may know nothing about the topic, will be affected by the 

people I want to present to them?

I go to this little part-time job to help cover expenses

and to keep myself socialized; it would be so easy to become

isolated and turn into the neighborhood cat lady.

On the way into town,one rider boards in tears - 

she has lost her hat and the little

pocketbook in which she carries her bus tickets.

Profoundly deaf, she communicates by sign language

and grunts, tears streaming down her face

as she attempts to make her difficulty known to us,

the hearing world.  When I left the bus, I felt inadequate;
all I could offer was a pat on her shoulder and a smile as I left,
my sad attempt to communicate to her that it will all work out.

My little concerns are nothing.
I can see. I can hear.
I spend my time trying to find ways to make interesting pictures 
and to string words together in way that people will want to
read them. I am among the fortunate who can, to a degree, extend
that ability a bit further than usual practice. 
I do not yet have the misfortune to struggle to find 
ways to make myself understood without words,
either vocally or in writing.

Textured Tuesday: Downspout at Glossbrenner House

Admittedly, the shot is fuzzy but I just had to share this.

When one thinks of guttering for one's house, the images generally

include the ubiquitous downspout. These days, it usually 

takes the shape of a long, rounded rectangle. When I was a kid,

it more often than not was a fluted tin tube hanging 

from the sides of houses. Now, it is bought in sections at the

big box hardware store, or extruded on-site by contractors

using shaping machines designed especially for the task.

But how many of us have ever seen spirally fluted copper

downspouts, held in place by 2-inch straps with

fleur-de-lis attaching points and diamond-head rivets?

And the fact that it remains in place over 100 years after

the home was built is nothing short of miraculous.

Glossbrenner House

During the early 20th Century, North Meridian Street provided the setting 

for the homes of many of the city's wealthy and influential citizens. 

One of these people was Alfred Glossbrenner, a prosperous businessman who, 

along with his wife Minnie and their three sons, were active politically 

and socially in the city's affairs. 

An English architect, Alfred Grindle, who immigrated to the United States in 1888,

was commissioned by Glossbrenner to design this house, which was

completed in 1910. The family hosted many gatherings in their home, many

of which were held in the third floor ballroom.

After World War II, the house was sold to Dr. Joseph Walther,

who converted it to medical offices for his clinic, added an extension

to the house, then built Winona Memorial Hospital in 1966,

the first of the city's private, for-profit hospitals.

The doctor sold the hospital in 1985, it closed altogether in 2004 and became

an increasingly worrisome blight on the area. 

After those buildings were finally razed and the addition removed, 

the Walther Cancer Foundation donated the house

to the Indiana Landmarks Foundation, which they knew would protect it.

The ILF hosted a showing last week for potential buyers. 

A portion of the exterior facade that had been connected to the extension has been

restored by the Foundation, along with some features on the first floor, 

and the roof has been repaired. 

It was surprising to me that so much of the original features of the home remain.

Even though many of the rooms were cut up into smaller enclosures,

the woodwork seems intact, many of the lighting fixtures remain, as well as

a lot of the doorknobs, with English primrose decorations 

that are featured throughout the house, 

including the main staircase and stained glass windows.

For many years, I passed this house on my way to and from work, 

and was dismayed at the tan-colored brick extension 

growing from its north side. When the hospital was closed and 

no buyers could be found, I was afraid the house would fall 

to the wrecking ball, along with the decaying 1960s structure 

to which it was conjoined. Thankfully, that did not happen, but the

house needs someone to love it, who will restore its

polished glory, as well as bring it safely into the 21st Century.

 

Upon seeing the electrical conduit stuck through the ballroom floor,

I overheard one man remark that he didn't realize there

were pole dancers working in 1910. The red pipes are for the

sprinkler system that was added to satisfy the fire codes.

I am virtually certain the new owners will have a new system imbeded 

in the ceiling, when he replaces the cracked, crazed, 

and broken plaster that exists throughout.

 

The original home had features that constituted the cutting edge technology 

of the time, including an electric butler call, intercom system, and a central vacuum cleaning system. The home originally had six bedrooms and with

7,000 square feet of space available, it could certainly be beautifully adapted

to suit many different types of needs. 

End of Day

Headed west on 10th Street at the White River Bridge, 

we had our way lighted by the bright orange sun, 

as it briefly sat poised on the horizon, then dipped below the tree line.

I had begun my day with the sun turning the eastern sky

mauve, then pink, then orange as it lit our path, 

then guided me towards home in the evening.

Men in Holes, Part 793

Well, not 793 exactly, maybe more like 627, but if I see men working in a pit,

 I feel compelled to find out just what they are doing.

Inquiring minds want to know, ya know?

On the same day I watched men bringing old transformers out of a pit, 

I found these men just outside the Scottish Rite Cathedral.

They were working to repair some pipe; one man was welding 

while the others assisted to maneuver the pipe,

hold it in place, measure, cut and to assist with assisting.
(They all had some assigned task, really, just that as their role
was completed, they moved to helping out the others.) 

You've seen those bright red tool boxes on wheels? 

Like the ones race teams have in their trackside pit boxes?

Well, the rolling tool box for the welders is shown above.

It is a box truck, containing everything they need 

to dig, cut and weld pipe.