WTF ? A Wheel Cozy

Monday evening, as I entered the Natatorium building,

I saw this spare tire cover, a giant doily

someone had crocheted for her SUV.

Cellist on the Road

I took this picture through the window 

of the bus I was riding on Saturday morning.

I first met this man several years ago, 

carrying his cello to lessons.

He told me then he'd always wanted to play

and began to take lessons when he retired.

Here, at just after 8 a.m., he was on his way

to practice with a church group

he played in for Sunday services.

Hot Pink

The weather this first week of autumn 

seemed more like late summer.

There are tinges of orange in the trees, while roses 

bloom underneath them, one more time.

These roses glowed, vibrant hot pink in the noon sun. 

The more subdued red berries hung above,

preparing for their entrance while 

the bright flowers made a dramatic exit.

Drama at Dawn

When I left for swim practice this morning, 

around 7 a.m., I was greeted by a dramatic sunrise. 

The soccer field looked like this as I passed. 

Just a block south, facing east again, 

I got this beautiful feathery and lacy bit 

to look at as I waited for the bus.

It was a beautiful day.

Sunset Commute

The big orange ball hung just above the tree line,

looking for all the world as though it was lined up with 

10th Street as we headed towards Speedway.

Another passenger and I had the same notion and spent 

the last few moments before it sank away, 

trying to capture a bit of the fiery orb 

on our cameras.

Waiting

While I was waiting to start my own practice session, 

a man came into the Natatorium to swim laps.

With him he had this sweet, black Labrador 

Retriever, a puppy in training for

Canine Companions for Independence.

It seemed ironic that a member of this 

water-loving breed should be brought to a large pool, 

then asked to ignore it while his human swam 

long, lovely laps. But the puppy was noble,

waiting patiently with paws crossed,

and passed the task with flying colors.

Tord the Lights

As a rule, it seems to me that people like 

the little twinkling lights used to trim Christmas trees, 

so much so the lights are left up well beyond the holidays. 

Years ago, the lights used as a part of outdoor 

holiday decor around downtown Indy have become 

permanent fixtures in the trees lining the streets. 

They light the sidewalks, adding a bit 

to pedestrian security.

 Not that that has anything to do with Tord Boontje's

lighting projects, but I find the crystal branch

shown above reminiscent of the trees lining the

Ohio Street near Monument Circle.

This chandelier, called Night Blossom, 

created in 2002 for Swarovski, 

has flashing LED lights next to the crystals. 

In addition to the one shown above,

another one was wall-mounted.

Unfortunately, I've lost the notes 

related to this fixture. The decorative elements 

inside the shade seemed like the floral motifs 

found on ornately plastered ceilings 

or on porcelain dinnerware.

Affordable Delicacy

I love this stuff.

The interplay of delicate light and 

shadowy forms holds my attention. 

Whenever I see one of industrial designer 

Tord Boontje's creations, I want to look 

at it forever. I don't know whether 

I first saw a big book devoted to his work, or

a large, lacy curtain made out of Tyvek, 

but his stuff ranges from vases, to textiles, 

to lighting and furniture. I wanted one of the curtains

to hang in a window of my boat, so I could

watch how the reflections off the river interacted

with the tracery of the curtain.

And it's affordable!

Heck, he's even created a line

for Target!

Into Antiquity ...

This past weekend I explored a new gallery at the 

Indianapolis Museum of Art, 

one showing a large part of the museum's 

growing collection of decorative and industrial design. 

A lot of the items I've been familiar with since college, 

such as the work of Charles and Ray Eames; 

their work transformed our lives in ways we cannot 

imagine until we have it pointed out to us.

There are examples of beautifully made silverware,

twinkling chandeliers, clever lighting,

wonderful furniture, and a Dyson vacuum cleaner

to keep it all tidy. 

And then there was this, 

the 1985 Macintosh Plus computer.

Using elements from Pagemaker -- bullets, borders, 

Dingbats, lines and textures, I used the computer 

to design display ads for a local agency.

The bosses I had at that agency were evil cusses,

but I loved their Macs. Still do.

It was the first computer I'd ever used. Period.

The user-friendly Mac was a revelation to me. 

It felt odd to see my old friend on show 

in a Plexiglas case like some 

archaeological curiosity, but I guess it is.  

IMA: Autumn Equinox: A Girl and Her Guitar

The beautiful young woman above 

was among fifty to sixty other guitarists 

who joined composer Stuart Hyatt 

in the performance/sound installation, 

E is for Equinox.

The musicians stood in a circle beneath

an existing sculpture, Team Building (Align),
 installed in the IMA 100 Acres.

The sound of the E chord being played was nice,

although it didn't seem to take over 
the (air) space with as much power as I'd 
have thought sixty guitars could make. 

Nevertheless, it was an enjoyable afternoon; 

people were everywhere on the IMA grounds, 

with family and friendly dogs in tow.

Bench Lighting

At about eight p.m., several people were 

outside Eskenazi Health.

Some patients with visiting family members 

enjoyed the water features, while others,

 like me, sat on the long teak benches waiting 

for the bus home.

Reflections on Waiting

At night, the lights in and around 

Eskenazi Health create patterns 

of light and color, making the place 

seem to glitter and move in its own reflections.

This is not a place of fear and shadows. 

People are all around, sitting on the benches,

at ease in the beauty and light around them.

On the Road

Just before the sun went down a few nights ago, 

I went to pick up some milk from a nearby 

convenience store. Drivers were gassing up their cars, 

possibly preparing for the next day's commute 

on I-465, the road just behind the store.

Quiet Time

It was a mild afternoon when I visited this water 

feature/fountain outside the IUPUI Library, 

inviting one to enjoy a bit of quiet, 

broken up by the sound of the flowing water.

While this man took time to enjoy 

his lunch beneath a tree, 

others sat at nearby tables to study.

The brick pavers surrounding the fountain

held some of the sun's warmth both

in their baked clay and in the colors of leaves

fallen in the hollow of missing brick.

The pale yellow reminded one that autumn

is only a week or so away.

Early Morning Light

It was chilly when I got downtown 

early Saturday morning. I pulled my jacket closer 

around me as I walked over to Starbucks, 

a couple blocks away.

On the way, I saw these lighted flowers,

glowing with color against the gray morning.

When I came back an hour later,

the bright, happy flowers were gone, replaced

by purple cabbages.

Even though the calendar told me fall

was just about a week away,

the nurserymen digging away in the giant pots, 

confirmed that colder weather is near.
Bugger.

Strike A Pose!

When I returned downtown Saturday from swim practice, 

I happened to see the entire Purdue University 

All-American Marching Band 
had been gathered for their official photo. 

The site was the south side
of the Indiana War Memorial, 
just about the only place with enough stairs 
to accommodate this large band. 

I watched the proceedings with a number of other 

interested on-lookers, as the band director 

(Of course, it was! Who else?) 

arranged this group of people to his liking; 

with each move he made, you could see the improvements 

in the spacing and line-up of musicians, dancers, 

baton twirlers, drum majors -- 

"Trumpets, I want each of you to move two spaces 

to stage right to fill in the line." 

"Flutes, I need for you to step down one row." 

"Dancers, I want you to move towards the center, 

taking out the two benches on the ends." 

Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.

And then, "Strike a pose!"

The musicians held up their instruments, 

the baton twirlers smiled prettily in their sparkly outfits,

the drum majors looked officious, 

the dancers turned their knees towards the center, 

the flag bearers got the breeze to hold 

their colors aloft, and the World's Largest

Drum was the center of it all.

Here is a YouTube video of a Purdue AAMB 

pre-game performance

In the Library

It's a quiet place,

but it speaks to me.

When I was little,

time in the library was

an adult privilege, 

one I first enjoyed

when I got my very own

library card, when 

I was five or six.

A few months ago,

I got a card for the Herron

School of Art Library.

I felt the way I did when

I got my first card.

The words and the pictures

showing the artists' 

works and their lives

are all murmuring ...

inviting me into their world,

helping me to shape my own.

And this simple arrangement 

on a side table added

to the welcome.

9-11: Still. Pissed. Off.

There's nothing suitable.

Nothing sad enough.

Never anything angry enough.

However solemn, 

silence does not fix it.

Hate does not replace the people lost that day.

It does not take away the lies told 

by people who used

that evil attack to further their own ends.

It does not bring back the people who've been 

sacrificed to avenge this deed.

If anything, we seem to be even more hated 

than we were then.

My man came home that day. 

So many others have not.
Make no mistake,
I. Am. Pissed.

Purple Strand

As the sun began to dip behind the main entrance

of the Indianapolis Museum of Art,

someone seemed ready to make their entrance;

This strand of purple blooms stood tall 

above their green leaves, like an amethyst necklace 

set off against a dark green gown.

IMA Model

It hasn't yet been two weeks 

since the Indianapolis Museum of Art welcomed

Roy Lichtenstein's sculpture, Five Brushstrokes 

to the Sculpture Garden on the east lawn.

As I was leaving, I saw that one of the pieces

was already being used as the backdrop

for a fashion photo session. 

Families were all about, many with small children 

in strollers, happily exploring the grounds, 

and taking the time to lounge under 

the tree-lined promenade.

On one of the park benches, I saw 

the model's accouterments, 

shopping bags full of fashionable clothing

and her own, neatly folded and piled.

The nice young woman taking the pictures 

told me her name was Evelyn Binkley, 

while the pretty model's name 

was Ciera. I doubt I've spelled their

names correctly because I didn't

write either down until after 

I left the Museum grounds. My bad.

Big Leaves

I love big leaves.

I enjoy standing under them to see how the sun 

shows their structure and creates designs 

where they overlap.

These are mottled, whereas others 

are solid green. I am used

to the emerald shades of the solid leaves

but these are, well, topaz and

other glorious shades the names of

which I can't recall.

Misty Morning

Saturday morning, while waiting for a bus, 

I took a walk around Monument Circle.

Other than Starbucks, none of the little

 restaurants was open, with outdoor seating 

stacked in piles and chained 

against theft. The brushed metal texture

of the tables played a well-regulated contrast with 

the splotchy raindrops collected on the tops.

Summer Haze

It's hot here in Indy, and muggy.

We're waiting for what is called 

a "scattered" thunderstorm,

which I suppose means it could rain 

just about anywhere 

except on us.

Whew.

In the Ravine Garden on the grounds 

of the Indianapolis Museum of Art, 

the heat hung low, moisture

slowing the movements of everything

except goldfinches and hummingbirds.

Along with the bees, they darted among the flowers

on this quiet stream, gorging on seeds

and nectar. The hummingbirds will be leaving

any time now; they're just waiting for

that signal, that angle of the sun, that tells

them it's time to fly to Mexico.

The bees will go to their hive to care

for the queen, buzzing their way through

the cold winter, while people, stupid people,

insist on behaving as though winter makes no

difference to the cycles of daily life.

Instead, they will obey their corporate masters,

droning away in their cubicles as the blue

light on their computer screens

sucks away their spirits, if not their lives.

Echinaecea

Spring seemed as though it would never come.

Summer was tardy, too, but once here, on the days 

it hasn't rained, it has been hot and muggy.

Now we are only three weeks or so from fall and,

if the tired leaves on the trees and the faded flowers are

any indication, it seems summer may leave 

us right on schedule. Damn.