Memoriam for a Man I Did Not Know

Chris Clarke's friend, Ben Cristoffel, wore the number that
Chris had been assigned for the Indy Aquatic Challenge

A week ago Sunday, I participated in my first ever 

open water swim competition. It was a race sponsored 

by my club, Indy Aquatic Masters.

The day was beautiful, the water warmer than

expected, and the people were cordial and happy.

I was slow and did not finish anywhere near

my expected time, mostly because I am slow, even

on a good day; I learned I need to swim with

my head up to navigate my way around the course.

The "usual suspects" won, of course,

the men and women who are always fast and strong.

But one of them was missing.

Chris Clarke, one of IAM's best, most competitive

swimmers died during the race. At this point,

no one knows what happened except that it was

totally unexpected. Personnel had reached him quickly,

but it was too late. A day that had started with

so much sunshine was suddenly dulled 
by dismay and sorrow.

Yesterday, a memorial practice was held

at Five Seasons health club.

Eighty-two people showed up to swim a practice

routine designed by Chris. While I had been at sessions

with him, I hadn't been a member long enough 

to know him personally, so I had some concerns 

about taking part in the session.

But, as I read about Chris in tributes written by his

friends and teammates, and in the news media,

I found that I did know Chris.

Words like "enthusiastic," "humorous," "passionate," 

and "compassionate" were common themes.

As I looked around yesterday at my fellow members,

I found those same characteristics are reflected 

in the people who are members of IAM. 

 To effectively remember Chris Clarke, all those 

folks need to do is to continue to be the same

enthusiastic, humorous, passionate, and

compassionate people I have come to respect and love.

Maybe one day those qualities will rub off on me,

just a bit, making me not just a better swimmer,

but a better person, as well.

Street Art

Beauty appears in the oddest places;

from puffy clouds in the sky, to flowers in garden beds,

then to a storm's detritus in cracks in the parking lot.

Both the street pavers and the forces of Mother Nature 

collaborated to create some beautiful abstract art.

The earth has heaved over the winters to make cracks

in the pavement, which are then filled with

chips of yellow paint from the surrounding curbs.

Swashes of slurry seal add contrast to the

nubby surface of the asphalt.

In All Its Glorious Hibiscus-ness

On my way to Starbucks Wednesday morning, 

I was startled by the sunlit beauty of this red hibiscus 

outside the Sheraton Hotel entrance.

Newly bloomed, it stood tall and proud to greet

the morning as it rose from behind the

downtown buildings. Just beyond, a hotel limo

and a line of African cabbies were also

prepared to begin the day's business.

A Healing Vessel

Waves fall away

"I don' know what to do.

They told me he flat-lined twice on them

and the obscured is revealed,

an' they brought him back, but he's got brain damage

an' they want to take him off life support.

all that remains are our deeds,

That no-good daughter of his is in lock-up

an' I know she ain't signin' no papers.

cupped like hands for water:

And that fuckin' brother of his

that he don' get along with is somewhere

in fuckin' Wyoming and all he said was

'the hell with him."

a healing vessel.

                     -- Mitchel L.H. Douglas

While taking pictures of one of the new water features 

at Eskenazi Health, I happened to overhear 

a bit of phone conversation a woman was having.

about her very ill friend. She was asking

someone to come stay with her during what was

certainly a very difficult situation for her --

saying good-bye to someone she loved,

unable to get any support from his family.

The words in italics are incised 

at the base of this fountain.

Eskenazi's Pointy Side: Composition in Gray with Clouds

Whenever I'm around Eskenazi Health, I inevitably 

wind up standing beneath the cantilevered bits

of the main building, trying to get those 

right angles to break up a bit 

of rectangular space in an interesting way - 

does this way give it enough tension?

 Will those windows zoom off 

into space for me? 

Will the soft clouds push against 

the hard surface to make it interesting? 

Oh, well ... anything to make the 

straight lines play well with 

the loose puffy stuff.

Right-Angled Texture

The horizontal facade of Eskenazi Health 

meets the vertical flange design 

on the central portion of the building.

All the Same

As I approached the Speedway Public Library 

on Saturday, I noticed that the Japanese maple 

at the curb was nearly the same shade of red 

as the car parked alongside. I really liked the way

the sunlight filters through the red leaves

and tried to get a picture of that effect against

the red car, with limited success.

For whatever reason, the way my eye 

registers the bright red created by the sun

is not duplicated by my camera.

However, I was surprised by what caught my eye next:

all five cars (four shown here; the one at the front of the line 

was a small Nissan) parked outside the library, 

each a different make and model, were all 

virtually the same shade of red. Huh. 

Sidewalk Shots

The weather Thursday evening was hot and muggy, 

too heavy with moisture to not rain.

When I left the Natatorium, the clouds had finally

broken down, releasing the moisture 

 in great splotches of rain.

The storm stopped as I walked to the bus stop,

during which I found these pictures.

Temperatures were so warm that the rain had already 

begun to evaporate from the sidewalks.

Inner Lights

They're small things, really, but the way the light 

in the fountain is caught and bent by the falling water 

seems beautiful. I especially like the way 

the fiery glow of the light contrasts 

with the foamy bubbles at the bottom.

Waiting for Indygo

Whether it was the pattern of the girl's backpack 

and the way the bright yellow lining 

of her hoodie shown in the morning sun -- 

or that combined with the pattern 

in the man's shirt, I don't know, 

but it sure caught my eye.

On the Bus: Daily Folk

The word "commuters" conjures up images of big city folk 

who come to work each morning, brief case in hand, 

crisp white shirt and tie with their business suits,

 or women wearing neatly polished pumps 

with a conservative dress.

In this town, they'll drive an SUV to one of the local 

 parking garages, where the vehicle will stand

all day, costing their owners fuel, fees, upkeep,

insurance, monthly payments, blah-blah-blah --

while the owner spends eight to twelve hours working

to earn all that money to have this "convenience."

The people who take the buses here are generally

politely referred to as the "working poor."

As shown in the above picture, they are a carpenter

and a healthcare worker, accompanied by a number of

wait staff and cooks, hotel workers, and maintenance staff

for offices in the area. Now, the business world

can do without the presence of an attorney

or file clerk for a day or so, but if the maintenance staff,

the hotel maids, the janitors, and the healthcare

workers could not get to their jobs, the workday 

would come to a complete standstill.

Yet we still have a public transportation

system that is woefully inadequate

to meet the needs of a place

that likes to promote itself as a 

"world class city."

A Pleasant Break

Monday evening, I walked over to Eskenazi Health 

to catch the bus for home and to check out 

the newly completed fountains and water features 

at the hospital's main entrance.

There I saw three women taking the time

during their evening break to enjoy

a word game.

On their way back to work, a couple of them

paused to wade in the gurgling water

of the new fountain, a low-profile installation that 

invites such innocent, relaxing pleasures.

Art in Speedway: Ikat Fence

Long strands of telephone cables, strung between tall poles, 

cast shadows on the privacy fences.

Surrounding the back yards of residences 

on West 25th Street, the fences are usually very dull,

bland affairs, unpainted and poorly installed.

These sorry panels are, however, acquiring a patina

that reveals the cut lines of the saw blade

that made them,as well as creating a contrast between the

knotholes and the parent tree.

 The patterns reminded me of ikat dyed

fabric, draped in long, wood curtains along

the street.

No Bed of Flowers

I generally keep my camera aimed at "pretty pictures."

I avoid taking pictures of people both because of my reluctance 

to approach people and for personal safety - 

you'd be surprised how many people 

seem to think the cops are watching my blog 

for glimpses of wanted felons (them!).

While always present, scenes such as that above

seem to be more common than in the past. 

While I sat on a bench waiting for the bus, 

I stared straight ahead at the "pretty picture," 

while the sad situation above unfolded just to my right.

God only knows from where he'd come.

He couldn't even say himself, although a band on

his wrist made it seem likely he'd been

to either Eskenazi Health or the VA Hospital.

A policeman was summoned and, as kindly as his

uniform would allow, he tried to get the man

to move away, without success. 

As my bus pulled away from the curb, I heard

sirens approaching, signifying an ambulance or, 

more likely, a paddy wagon, that had been summoned 

to take the sad man away.

As the differences between the Have/Have Not 
in our country become more extreme, 

the sheer numbers of people who have nothing to do,

 no place to go become more obvious.
My generation has seen the country's transition 
from a manufacturing society to the computer age, 
relying on "service jobs" (i.e., fast food industry
and hotel maids) to fill the void left by well-paying work. 
This has helped to create a surplus of people
who often have only a marginal connection to
steady employment.
The greed of our corporate masters, with the legal assistance
of Congress, have returned this country to a culture
of rapacious greed unmatched since the days
of Andrew Carnegie, J.P. Morgan, and John Rockefeller.
It took the will of Teddy Roosevelt to bring
them into line, but today's Congress is so tightly
wound, contorted, and entangled with special interest
groups that logical thinking about dire problems
facing our society does not seem to be possible.

We are running out of water, the food supply is at risk.
Our educational system is failing us, meaning that many kids
barely have the skill it takes to press a color picture
on the cash register to ring up our Big Mac purchase.

The state of Indiana has given out so many tax breaks to
businesses *seeking* to do business here that it 
has eroded the tax base. This has led to a shortfall
in that revenue, as well as from the average taxpayer,
because so many of them are either out of work
or employed in such low-paying jobs they
have little or no tax liability.

When I ride the bus to work of a morning,
all I see are people like myself, just trying
to keep roofs over our heads and food
in our kids' stomachs. Most of us are one or
two paychecks from being out on the street,
but we keep slogging away, thinking we'll catch
a break. Some day. But probably not.

The 2% who control the nation's business
don't seem to understand that we are all drinking
from the same well; eventually they will succumb 
 to the same poison they have inflicted
on the general populace.

Strawberry Aftermath

See that little red thing, just to the left of the girl's foot? 

Dead strawberry slice.

All day Thursday, it somehow evaded being scooped 

into a bowl and eaten by an avid lover 

of strawberry shortcake,

only to end up soapily smeared on the

downtown sidewalk.

Oh, the ignominy of it all.

(I just wanted to use ignominy in a sentence.)

About a half dozen teenagers were engaged

in cleaning the 30-pound pails before

they were returned to the supplier. 

The Festival organizers estimate they sell about 

six tons of strawberries, which would make

about 400 pails of the fruit - not to mention the giant 

containers of whipped cream and the ginormous 

amounts of ice cream consumed.

(Damn, my day is complete! I just used

the words ignominy and ginormous

in one post! Spelled right, too! :-)

All the Fixin's!

Thursday saw the 49th Annual 

Christ Church Cathedral Women's Strawberry Festival. 

Held annually on Monument Circle, people line up early

for the treat and sit in the shadows of the Monument

and the Cathedral to enjoy strawberry shortcake with

ice cream as live music plays in the background.

People of all ages stand in line for some of the 

18,000 home made shortcakes and fixin's,

lovingly made and stored by members of the church 

in the months leading up to the Festival.

The Festival served an estimated six tons 

of strawberries to go with the cakes, as well as 

vanilla ice cream and whipped topping.

Ninety-five per cent of the proceeds from the Festival

will go directly to local, national, and international

outreach groups.

Feelin' Blue

Day lilies, pock-marked by huge 

globules of dew,

greeted the morning sun. And me. 

I was on my way to work

and just had to stop to get a picture

before the heat of the day

burned away the flowers' little prisms.

Thank You Notes

Tuesday evening I attended a small appreciation 

dinner for volunteers working with the Indianapolis 

Symphony Orchestra. We were entertained by

members of the ISO, four women who are long-time

members of the orchestra's string section.

The blurry photos show musician Amy Kniffen's viola. 

Other guests were as intrigued by the shape of her viola as I was.
She told us that the maker, Hiroshi Iizuka, based the look 
and construction of his instruments on the viol family 

of instruments of the 16th Century, rather than 

those of the 17th Century whose shapes 

are more familiar to us. The distinctive shoulders 

on her viola, as well as it's curved bottom, 

help to make it easier to play.

Art in Speedway: Minimalism

 A week or so ago, I took an early morning walk 

around Speedway. I had had a specific 

mission in mind, but on the way to that site, 

I took plenty of pictures of other things,

particularly garages.

When the Town of Speedway was established

in 1926, it was envisioned as a "city of

the future." Housing developments were created

that included garages for cars - but no

sidewalks, a problem that has, for the most part,

been remedied in recent years. 

It is these little structures I'm stalking.

Many of the garages remain, some brittle and gray,

others covered in vinyl, others lovingly tended

in homage to their automotive history.

Not Even the Clothes on Their Backs

Several weeks ago, a women's apparel shop 

in the Speedway Shopping Center began 

a "going out of business sale." 

Over the following weeks, the colorful 

merchandise on the racks diminished, leaving 

only a few bare racks, gray walls and carpet.

Several white mannequins were left 

in the windows; deprived of even a cheap dress, 

they put the bare in barren.

As recently as a week ago, a handwritten sign

on the store's door said "Closed Forever."

Last week, I walked by the (former) store where 

I saw women inside putting garments 

on hangers, then onto a slew of roundels that

hadn't been there earlier.

This week, the previous sign has been replaced 

with one saying "Store not open. Help needed."

Hmmm. 

Methinks another emporium of cheap 

inexpensive street fashion 

is due to open soon. 

Here Be Dragons, er, Dragonflies

It's been a long while since I've seen a dragonfly.

They were always my tiny companions

when I was fishing off the side of the boat,

green ones, blue ones, and little fiery-red ones.

With their big heads, they reminded me 

of helmeted helicopter pilots.

This one, however, nearly smacked me in the head 

this morning as I walked to the store. 

I looked in my dragonfly book 

but couldn't find one like him in the pictures,

so I can't say what kind of dragonfly he be, 

but I bet he's not from "uncharted territory." 

Sunlit Edges

I saw these little sunlit flowers in one of the garden plots 

at Saint Christopher Catholic Church in Speedway.

 I was captivated by the way their little furry bits 

caught the sun, accentuating the delicacy 

of their shapes and stems.

The brightness of the sunlight off these little flowers 

made me think of the way crystal prisms 

were used to bounce candlelight around a room, 

making the room seem brighter.