When It Was Pretty

Indy's first major snowfall of the year 

brought chilling temperatures the region 

hadn't encountered for many years, 

effectively closing down the city 

for all but essential services.

After the storm passed, there was some 

relief for the people of the community, then, 

a couple days ago, another wave 

of cold air swept into the area,

with wind chills of about -40 degrees.

Temperatures now are rising, creating the feeling

of a heat wave. Woo hoo! It's a torrid 16 degrees F

outside as I type this. While another snowfall is forecast 

for a couple days from now, I've missed 

my swimming sessions and will return 

to the pool later this afternoon.

For me, the cold has been an inconvenience

while for many others it has been a real

danger. So many have had their furnaces fail

while others have no furnace at all.

As I dress this afternoon, I will keep this in mind.

I am merely cold, while others are

literally freezing.

Too Cold

There's a wind chill warning over much of the country 

tonight, with temps expected to be the equivalent 

of -40 degrees F through early Wednesday. 

At 11:15 PM, the temperature is -2 degrees with 

wind temp of -20. While some people may 

scoff, this is unusual for us as most of us do not have

clothing appropriate for these conditions.

And I miss my swimming. I miss my coach and the

people who join me in the pool for our practice sessions

three or four times a week. My body has become 

accustomed to the exercise and needs to

be moving. Maybe Wednesday.

As police and other workers are patrolling 

the streets, looking for persons with stalled cars

and homeless people to get them to warm shelters,

I am fortunate to have my own warm apartment,

blankets, and food for myself, my cat, 

and my turtle and to only worry about missing
practices instead of lying in the cold streets. 

Another Gem

Last week, I went to the Indiana State Library to do 

a bit of research. While I've been there before, 

I've never been beyond the contemporary addition. 

Attractive on the outside, its limestone exterior does contrast 

with that of the original building, but not so much 

that it's offensive to the eye.

The contrast between the interiors of each section 

is what I found most startling. The older building is

a homage to books, learning, and history,

with frescoes on the ceilings, murals, and stained glass.

It is ironic really, given that the state politicians at the

Capitol Building, are doing their damnedest to tear down 

the public education system in favor 

of corporate run schools. Already, the names of artists,

inventors, and writers incised in the library's walls

are mere afterthoughts; the state preaches the need for

an educated workforce, but instead seeks to create

a population of menials, an underpaid workforce that

will end up fighting over resources.

The light fixtures look like sheaves of corn,

taking reference from a Native American shown in

one of the stained glass windows, holding stalks of corn. 

Whether he is the base of the picture, 

holding up the images of the states founders,

or being trampled into submission by

William Henry Harrison and General 

"Mad Anthony" Wayne is a matter of viewpoint.

There are murals at each side of the main entrance 

to the old building, which leads one to 

the BEST PART - the card catalog! Yay!

There they were, rows and rows

of stacked, tiny drawers, mounted along

the long wall. A place of honor.

The picture below shows only about a third

of the drawers in this hall.

I used a smaller catalog in another

department of the library. The habits learned

in childhood quickly returned and I was

able to use the system almost intuitively.

I loved the feel of the little file cards.

They were almost velvety to hand and it was 

as though I was greeting old friends.

Murder

Earlier today, I stood on a spot near where I live.

The sun shown bright in a clear, blue sky as a 

strong wind blew snow across the landscape,

very much like sand across barren desert dunes.

Last winter, an entire section of townhomes was burned 

to the ground due to the carelessness of a tenant.

The remains were recently torn down, leaving

an empty scar in this poor neighborhood.

I've walked that stretch of the neighborhood 

too many times to count over the years and, 

seeing the chain link fence surrounding 

the site is disappointing, to say the least.

Most disheartening, though, was to know that 

on Wednesday night, a sixteen-year-old boy had been 

shot twice in the chest, and left to die in the dirty, 

frozen slush in the gutter across the street 

from the barren lot. Sayyid Abdul-Haqq was a

sophomore at Speedway High School. He took his 

schoolwork seriously and, when not in the

SHS library, could most often be found at the

town's library. His young nephew looked up to him,

saying he wanted to be like his uncle, to go to

school. Here was a boy with a goal, 

who inspired his family, but who met 

his death alone in the cold gutter.

He was on his way home from the store.

Given the weather, he was probably returning from 

the convenience store a couple blocks away.

This is a poor neighborhood, where people often 

have to juggle between which bills will be

paid - heat? Phone? Electric? Will there be money

for food? Gas for the car? If he went to the store

for milk, did the person who shot him see

he got change from a $10 bill?

Indeed, did he even have that much?

This is not a neighborhood of people who have

money, but one where a bit of small change

can seem like a windfall.

Nor is this a unique story, but it sure as hell

is new to Sayyid's family, whose hearts are broken.

The temperatures are dropping and it will be very cold

during the coming week, but right now

 the only colder place on Earth is the heart 

of whoever pulled the trigger.

***
Anyone with information related
to the murder of Sayyid Abdul-Haqq
can contact Crime Stoppers at 262-TIPS, 
or text INDYCS with their tip. 
You may also contact the 
Speedway Police Department 
directly at 246-4300. 
All information will remain anonymous.

Just About ...

A month ago, the winter season began and, 

with very little respite, it has been a misery of cold 

that quickly seeps into the bones along with 
the unaccustomed wind chill. 
Waiting for the bus near the Indiana

Historical Society, I looked into the Central Canal

where I was surprised to see gold fish

swimming just under the surface. 

The water was warm enough that steam rose 

from its surface. Ducks swam upstream,

themselves huddled against the frigid winds

 like their human counterparts 

on the streets above.

Island of Mercy: Eskenazi in the Night

See that little pole in the lower right corner 

of the bottom picture? Just beneath the wedge of pink? 

That's where I was standing when I took the top picture, 

another view of the Sidney and Lois Eskenazi Health Center.
The structure is a series of rectangular boxes,
stacked and connected to form an E without a crossbar.
The lighted section is the outpatient care section, while
the emergency department forms another white box 
to the north of this one. More enclosed than the others, 
it is clearly marked in bright red letters, 
EMERGENCY, that can be seen for miles.
The letters are as large as the ones identifying
the hospital and its benefactors,
so people who want help will make no mistake
in locating the care they need.

Snow in Her Bedroom

I hate being cold. 

I grew up in a house that was never warm in winter. 

At night, I huddled under a blanket, 

waiting for my body heat to warm my little cocoon. 

In the mornings, I dreaded getting up for school because

there was that run between the cold air in my

bedroom to the aura of heat radiating from the coal

stove downstairs in our dining room.

School, the site of other tortures, was still a haven

from the cold. I shivered my way to school where 

I experienced warmth that was, at times, 

almost suffocating. My goal in life has never been to 

be famous or successful in the most commonly 

recognized meanings of the word; 

I've only wanted to be warm in winter.

On the edge of the recent cold wave, I was on my way 

to the Circle Theatre, huddled in my own misery,

when I was brought up short by the sight of a person 

curled up just a few feet away, asleep beneath a tan comforter.

I was afraid. Should I try to wake her, to see

whether she was OK, or leave her to sleep, without

bringing her into the reality of the cold -

the cold air, the cold concrete, the cold bricks?

Police were nearby, virtually always aware of the stress

around them, so I went on, ashamed of my fear.

I went back the next day and found the woman's pillow 

and the blanket on which she slept covered with snow. 

She had gone, but her possessions, the furnishings

that made up her sidewalk home, were piled nearby.

She expected to return. 

As I write this, the temperatures are again 

plummeting into the single digits and below zero. 

While I try to make sure I will be warm, 

there are so many who are not.

And, damn, I do not know how to end this,

just as I do not know how to fix 

the problem of homelessness.

Tiny Bubbles

I'd rather be swimming ... or out taking pictures, 

but however clear and blue the sky, the temperatures 

have dropped into the 'teens, and the flag across the street is 

held out nearly straight by the wind.

So here are a couple SPD photos of sketches

I've been working on, impressions of what

I see when I am swimming. I've thought of borrowing

an underwater camera, but I think I would lose

the feeling of what I see when I'm in the pool.

One morning, a coach was working with me

on my stroke, asking me to turn to the side when I breathed,

making certain I kept my head down.

Well, I did just that and what I saw was beautiful!

There was the splash and flow of disrupted water

flowing past my goggles, with the man-made shapes

of the lane markers in the background.

And that was my left eye! In my right,

I saw calmer water, with people in adjacent

lanes swimming by, the water apparently disturbed 
only by the fan-like swarms of tiny bubbles made by their

feet as they kicked. Of course, the trick is to get

both into my drawing/painting efforts. Meh.

Grassy Swoosh

Near the graceful dried grass shown in an earlier post, 

there are a few bunches of shrub-like twigs

that in warmer seasons have little purpley flowers.

Here, the remains of the tiny blossoms create

constellations of dark brown stars, highlighted

by the delicate swoosh of the dried grass.

Warm Notes in the Frigid Air

The young woman in the silver gown is Jennifer Christen, 

principal oboist with the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra. 

Last night was her night in the spotlight, as soloist for Mozart's 

Concerto in C Major for Oboe and Orchestra, 

K. 285d (314). She performed beautifully, 

the notes rising and falling through the night air, distracting 

the audience away from the cold breezes they would 

face as they returned to their homes later that evening.

In the video below, she is giving a short explanation

about the preparation of reeds for her oboe and,

in the process, plays a few bars of the Mozart piece

she performed Friday night.  

Last night, I joined the ISO's Assistant Principal Percussionist,

Craig Hetrick, to promote upcoming ISO concerts 

and community activities. Among the people who stopped

to chat was a woman and her three daughters, 

one of whom plays oboe. The mother talked with Mr. Hetrick

about wanting to find suitable instruments to accommodate

her daughter's talent as her skills improved and grew.

She is now in sixth grade and her present oboe cost about

$3 thousand. One of the things I enjoy about these

evenings is the musicians coming out to meet the people

for whom they play. Overall, those I've met

have been intelligent, funny, and kind people,

just the sort one would want as friends. I saw the young

oboist later, who said she was going to talk

with Ms. Christen about lessons.

It seemed so cool to me that a twelve-year-old girl 

would easily have the opportunity to speak with

a professional about her future.

Right there in the lobby of the Hilbert Circle Theatre, 

on a cold night, over cups of hot cocoa.

One in jeans and the other in a silver gown.

Sparkling Orbs

After a few days' respite from subzero temperatures, 

we are once again in the deep freeze.

It's just been a month since the winter solstice and 

everyone is already sick of the whole thing.

On my way Friday evening to hear the 

Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra play,

I passed a florist's display window where the

glittery orbs in the arrangements

provided just about the only happy color

for blocks around.

Grasses in the Snow

In this winter season, just about the only time 

I am standing still is when I am waiting 

for a bus. Otherwise, I am on the move 

to someplace warm. This afternoon, I looked down 

near my feet to see spare, slender bits 

of dried grass shivering in the snowy breeze.

Of course, I took its picture.

Zig-Zag

While sitting in a corner coffee shop near the Circle, 

I noticed a zig-zag pattern just outside the window. 

The rain-slick street brought out reflections 

from running lights on cars, as well as accentuating 

the dashed pattern of the cross walk markings.

More than a few Zig-Zags have 
been passed over the decades and these 
men remain as excellent as ever.

Textured Tuesday: Wilted

A week ago, the entire country was under a severe freeze warning.

Snow covered the landscape for miles and miles.

Later, the temperatures warmed into the 40s-50s, bringing 

rain showers. The blanket of snow is practically gone, 

leaving only mountain ranges of snow heaped  

at curbsides and in parking lots. Remnants of those

will remain until spring. As the snow cover 

receded, plants that had been buried and ruined

revealed new colors, accented by the sparkle

 of decorations made from icy crystals

of melted snow.

Beautiful Green

Standing in front of the Federal Court Building while 

waiting for a bus, I looked up to see a tree 

I'd seen a gazillion times before. This time, however,

the tree stood out sharply from its fog-draped

surroundings, covered in a coat of moss

that accentuated its shape and the texture of its bark.

Foggy Reasoning

I just liked the way the other buildings 

framed the fog-shrouded edifice of the Key Bank, 

creating an interesting negative space.

At Some Point ...

... We must all walk the same path.

During the first couple days, the pale blanket of snow

was beautiful to look at. However frigid, it allowed

the sun to shine and gleam, giving a sparkle

to our everyday surroundings. Now, thankfully,

the temperatures have risen and the snow's filthy reality

leaves us masses of the stuff. It's stacked and piled

just about everywhere a shovel, snow-blower,

or plow could find. And it's dirty, making cold,

gray slush at curbs and corners that people must walk 

through as they cross intersections.

New Hospital

Just over a month ago, the new Sidney and Lois Eskenazi 

Hospital opened on a site on the IUPUI campus, 

just west of downtown Indy. The new buildings replace

Wishard Memorial Hospital,which for over 150 years provided

medical care to the people of Marion County. 

As the needs of the community and its services expanded,

Wishard grew, much like Topsy. Visiting the hospital was like 

entering a maze, with clinics fitted and expansions added 

to the building wherever space could be found.

Years ago, it was evident that a new hospital was needed

and ground was broken for the new facilities in 2011.
An extraordinary gift of $40 million to fund the new public 
hospital was made in June 2011 by the Eskenazis.
Every time I came downtown, I passed by the construction 
site, wondering whether the piles of dirt, concrete, steel, 
and stone would be just another nondescript pile. 
But I think we've gotten something beautiful, clean 
and spare with beautiful blue stripes to relieve 
what might well have been ugly, blank walls
full of blind-eyed windows.

While patients were moved and the hospital officially 

began operations on December 7th, a lot of the landscaping

remains to be done. The workmen above are constructing

what will become a multi-layered "healing garden" nestled

in the yard of the hospital, outpatient center, and faculty

office buildings. This is in addition to the garden on the roof 

of the hospital, intended to provide patients, staff, 

and the community with organically grown vegetables. 

The structure of the healing garden is intriguing, 

with steel rebar taking organic forms 

that to me resemble bits of an RNA double helix. 

There is a pile of massive limestone to one side 

to be put into position down the road, 

and the top will be grassy, too.

Lethal Beauty

This is when I like winter, when the sun shines 

on the trees, melting globs of snow that 

then freeze into crystalline sparks of light 

on the branches.

People began to emerge from their cocoons this morning, 

to start cars that merely groaned and whined

instead of purring from the pleasure of being started.

One neighbor needs to thaw his poor car;

standing humbled and shrunken in a drift of snow

it had no shelter or barrier from the frozen air.

Why is it we expect a machine to perform

whenever asked, without realizing it, too,

needs some consideration for the way its bits

react to the elements? Shoot, I've neither seen

nor heard a bird in three days. I expect

they are perched beneath the snow-laden

branches of fir trees or building eaves,

their feathers fluffed up against the cold.

Sort of like me, except I will need to go

to the store fairly soon for some seeds 

for myself  and my little family

(my cat and my turtle).

White on White

The snow fell all day, beginning in the morning in big, 
sloppy globs, then falling straight down in a shower 
of fine flakes. Frequently, the snow dropped off 
the trees onto my face as I looked upward .

Pale gray, almost white, the snow clung 

to dark brown branches, looking like 

a lovely ink drawing, creating a delicate balance 

against the sky, the snow, and the branches,

This beauty is deceptive.

Now, we are waiting for the freezing 

temperatures that will turn the lovely globs 

into weapons whose weight may cause power lines 

to break, leaving a great many people 

without electricity. The wind chill is expected 
to reach -40 degrees over the next two days.
I guess I won't be swimming 
much this week. :-b

Peppermint Fire

I had broken several slender candy canes into short pieces 

then eaten them from an old bowl as I sat at my computer.

It was then I noticed the scalloped sunlight

casting a little fire onto my note pad.

Folks in the Midwest are hunkered down

in expectation of a winter storm bringing heavy snow

and temperatures below zero degrees.

The lines at the grocery were long this afternoon

when I walked over to pick up a supply

of milk, bread and cereal. I also looked for some

post-Christmas peppermint sticks, but other 

people apparently had the same idea 

as there were no more to be had.

Mission Accomplished

Last Saturday, I noticed a couple men removing 

the little squadron of fiberglass toy soldiers 

from their posts on Monument Circle.

As a truck pulling the troop's transport slowly drove around 

the monument, a sling was put under each soldier's arms, 

then he was lifted from his post on to the trailer.

Finally, they were carted away to home base, 

to be stored until just before Thanksgiving, 

when they will again be assigned special duty, 

bringing joy to visitors on the Circle 

during the Christmas season.

Watered Silk

On my way to swim at the Indianapolis Aquatic Masters 

event, 100 X 100, I noticed the gray clouds were 

relieved somewhat by brushes of blue and pink. 

The sky and sunlight pushed in from the east to make

a sunny, if cold, day seem less leaden while the tree

gave me the impression of black lace overlaying

a background of silk moire'.

Monthly Theme Day: Just the Best

It's just a small wad of leaves and one single, simple flower petal, 

but this has to be my favorite picture for 2013.

I found them floating in the basin of a water fountain

on the grounds of the Indianapolis Museum of Art.

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