Warmer, With Rain

Saturday, the sun appeared, muted and pastel, 

surrounded by wisps of clouds

in lavender and mauve, while contrails

darted across the sky, bursting 

streaks of pink and coral.

This morning, the clouds roll in,

blue-black ink spreading across wet paper,

pouring their color over the land.

Grasses, Shorn

The ornamental grasses, whose green strands

earlier had danced proudly in the breezes,

found themselves shorn, their grassy plumes

thrown away. Now the bare stalks

stand like a burr haircut,

catching stray leaves at its base.

The Day Before

These images, 

the last of the sycamore leaves, 

were formed by the rain 

and mud on the drive outside 

my apartment. 

Later, another rain will wash

away this last bit of fall, 

leading the way

into winter 

Powdered Holes

After the work day is over, the people who actually keep 

the city functioning begin their shifts.

Under the glare of LED lights, utility workers

enter the netherworld of Indy's buildings

to maintain the heating, electrical and

telecommunications systems that the accountants,

attorneys, and administrative workers need

to perform their jobs.

I saw these men working near the intersection 

of Pennsylvania and Ohio Streets, where

they dug through several inches of asphalt and

concrete to lift the heavy steel covers,

giving them access to the steam ducts below.

It appears that, in addition to the near-daylight 

quality of the lighting, the men are using 

saws that somehow don't allow the concrete 

dust to blow all over. Instead, it's made

a tidy pile around the perimeter of the hole. 

Colors on a Gray Day

Just over a year ago, I stood at the edge 

of the Natatorium pool, preparing for swim practice,

when I noticed the prisms of color spreading 

from the edges of the lane stripes.

They are a constant, changing with the flow of the water,

undulating and pulsing colored light.

I've taken pictures and made drawings as

I search for a way to bring their beauty to life

on canvas. This search adds movement

to the drawings of the swimmers,

although what interests me most is the

movement of the water over 

and around their bodies;

it's interesting to see the distortions

the moving water makes as an underwater 

swimmer pushes off the wall.

And so, on this gray day, as the breezes

gust through now barren trees,

I find color and comfort in the water

as I watch and swim in the "concrete box."

Overcast Color

One evening, just before the sun dipped below the skyline,

the subdued pinks and lavenders contrasted

with the gloden leaves and yellow lights in the buildings.

Winter Pattern

Friday night, I did a volunteer stint with

 the Indianapolis Symphony Orchestra 

where I was privileged to hear percussionist 

Dame Evelyn Glennie perform.

The piece was the U.S. premiere of

Concerto for Aluphone by Anders Koppel.

The aluphone is an instrument invented

by marimbist Kai Stensgaard and  Michael Hansen,
an engineer who runs a design and manufacturing
business. The instrument made its debut at
the Opening Ceremonies for the 2012 London Olympic
 Games with Dame Evelyn as soloist.
The picture above made me think of a musical
staff, with the ice as bright, bell-light tones,
appropriate for the coming season.

At Least It's Not Buffalo

There the snow is so deep that it broke through doors, 

pouring into people's homes. Here we got

a mere brushstroke, one that swept white across

our landscape. The snow brought new

contrast to the red and faint greens of this bush.

It is nearly gone now, melted from the bright sun,

with warmer temperatures forecast

for the weekend. There will be rain to melt

the remaining snow. Once again, good for us but

not so great for the people in Buffalo,

who will have to cope with floods caused

by the melting mass of snow.

Art in Speedway: John Dowell

These leaves had fallen from a nearby bush.

Their arrangement in the snow, along with 

the bits of colored grasses and shadows, reminded me 

of drawings and paintings by John Dowell,

a contemporary artist from Philadelphia, whose

drawings deal as much with the effect of

negative space as they do with the actual marks.

Every line, shadow, and bit of texture

is considered in relation to the others, and how

they affect the overall space.

John was one of my college profs,

whose work enchanted me from the first

time I saw a suite of his lithographs.

He seemed so wise and "together"

to me even then, despite the fact he is

only four years older.

This is one of John Dowell's watercolor drawings,

Just a Sign of Soul, done in 1975. It is in the

collection of the Indiana University Art Museum. 

Unexpected Art: Just a Little Crazy

On Monday, I used the elevator at Herron School 

of Art and found it to be padded.

Just what I need, my own secure, padded room.

In September, I encountered a problem

with my apartment that needed six weeks to resolve.

It was depressing and humiliating.

Now the cold weather has hit and the furnace

will not turn on. I like to keep it fairly

cool in here, but when the thermostat went

from its usual 65 degrees to 61, then 59,

I knew for certain my own efforts to lower

heating costs were not at play.

Like last winter, I think the igniter on the pilot

light is faulty. The repairman should be here today.

We'll see. Then the hot water tap on the shower

would not turn off, needing new seats and washers.

That's the third time this year for that problem.

It's fixed now, as of a few minutes ago.

The job I usually work on this time of year has been

cancelled because the employer for the project

lost the contract. I applied for unemployment benefits,

but I've yet to receive the debit card to access

those funds. So ... things are dicey.

The only sane, positive part of my day

has been the anchor provided by swim practice.

It's the only place I want to be right now, where 

I can submerge and work out my frustrations,

where my worries float away.

A Visit to Kuaba Gallery

Every so often, I pay a visit to Kuaba Gallery, 

located on the on the second floor of the King Cole

building on the northeast corner of Meridian and 

Washington Streets. It's great to be able to see 

contemporary fine art at an intersection

I frequently pass on my way to do other things.

I stop in to visit with a couple pieces

by El-Anatsui, draped golden wall hangings

made from the caps for liquor bottles;

the man has found rich luster, texture, and

color in the most common, innocuous

of materials. I never tire of the pieces I've

seen here and at the Indianapolis

Museum of Art.

Currently on display is ceramic work

by Netherlands-born sculptor, Annelies Heijnen ,

whose white earthenware pieces are

full of pattern and color. The piece I've shown

here would provide both visual and tactile

pleasure for just about forever, every time 

one traced its patterns and colors

with the eye and hand.

Profiles in Shopping

Though it's still two weeks until Thanksgiving, 

after which the Christmas shopping season 

begins, you'd have thought it began

on Saturday. Traffic was heavy around the most

popular shopping malls, and people

were streaming in and out and around the 

downtown stores and restaurants.

Groups of teen-agers, often consulting their phones 

for directions, as seen here, were chattering and laughing,

as they visited downtown restaurants and sights. 

Washing the Sky

At the corner of Capitol and Washington Streets,

 window washers could be seen adding clarity 

to an already bright and beautiful day.

Ah, I Love the Scent of Chlorine in the Evening

Against the prevailing trend -  below average winter 

temps have invaded from the frozen Canadian tundra, 

these hosta have sprouted in an area nestled 

between the Natatorium and the parking garage.

There, warm air scented by the promising,

if sterile, aroma of chlorine, is vented from the pool,

is perhaps playing a joke on the hosta, 

telling it Spring in this sheltered spot, hidden

from the miserable reality of the evil,

reviled Polar Vortex.

Halloween's Day Job

They gotta go somewhere, right?

If they don't head for a crypt just before sunrise,

or go stir a cauldron at the school cafeteria,

I figure the others must have gotten jobs as models

for the anatomy classes at IUPUI.

I was startled the first time I saw these,

all sizes and variations, in a classroom just off

the main pool at the Natatorium.

Shoot, they're definitely qualified for the task;

the ones in the back have hinged lids

on their skulls, while the beauty in front

has numerical tats on her many parts.

(Musta been a pole dancer in a past life!)

Woohoo! 

The Light Turned On

Umm ... Books, and all of them about art.

 No silly magazines ("Sixty-Nine Things You 

Can Do to Get Your Man Really Hot"), 

no celebrity rumor rags, nothing about over-

commercialized sports franchises. 

Nothing. Just art books. 

A Herron student was in the stacks, looking for 

a book as I walked by. Lamps on the tables 

had been turned on, adding to the inviting 

atmosphere of the library.

Still Life/Still Life

Disparate items line the shelves of this closet,

hidden at the end of the second floor hall

in the Herron School of Art and Design.

Items from the shelves are used to make up

the still lifes for the drawing and painting classes.

I've used them myself for classes I've taken,

but usually found the items too picked over

to make up a coherent grouping.

As they sit here, however, the items

make an interesting tableau of

color and shape.
And here's a picture of another
work in progress,
long distance swimmers Jim B. and
Victoria R. practicing at the Natatorium.

Backdrop

Colorful leaves sank to the bottom 

of the water feature outside Eskenazi Health,

providing a colorful backdrop for 

the flowing water,

moving across the leaves.

Muse: Swimming the Distance Between

I look into your blue eyes,

humor and kindness dancing within

like stars, hung around the moon.

I wonder how to cross that space between --

You're so near to me, touchable yet distant.

Buoyed by love,

I will fill that chasm with water

and swim to you.

Falling Circles

I've often seen this sculpture,

 outside the IU School of Optometry, I believe,

but only during the daytime. 

It never really grabbed my attention, 

looking just like a pile of tumbling circles. 

But at night the thing came alive for me, 

especially the way it looks here, 

against the lighted grid of the staircase.

Ribbed: Yellow Leaf on Grate

I just about fell over it, 

this yellow leaf 

fallen on the grating beneath it.

I saw it as I got off the bus downtown

and stopped mid-stride to take

its picture. My little camera

is usually always at hand,

either in my coat pocket or a tote,

and people had a confused look as I 

drew the little black object to record  - What?

Oh, well, it's fall, it's rainy and I liked

the way the little thing looked

against the shiny steel ribs

and the tan pebbles of the grate.

Hosta Preparing for Sleep

Lying cold and wet on the rusty colored mulch, 

the hosta somehow resembles a pair 

of pointy jester shoes. Wilted and nearly

transparent, the broad leaves prepare

for winter's sleep.

Cold Pansy

As I walked to the bus stop this afternoon, 

my attention was attracted by a spot of 

bright yellow among the fallen leaves. 

A pansy had chosen to bloom 

on this cold, rainy day, keeping its feeties

warm in the leaves while raising its

head to greet the chilly rainfall.

The Color Wheel

On a clear fall day, a wide expanse 

of blue sky provided the backdrop 

for this big maple tree, in the process 

illustrating the color wheel 

with a tapestry's swash of hues.

And, per Stefan's request,
the whole tree!

I'd thought it over and found I liked to see it
off-center just a bit, like myself.

It's Here. Damn.

As I look outside, the sun breaks through 

the cloud cover, looking like a brightly bleached 

spot on an otherwise dingy gray rag.

Oh, yeah, I know the first day of fall was nearly 

six weeks ago, but we've enjoyed fairly mild 

weather in the interim. Now, the temperatures are 

dropping - it's twenty degrees cooler than 

it was a week ago and I'm not happy.

It's only six weeks to the winter solstice,

when the days again start getting longer,

leaning towards spring and summer.

I'm counting the days.

Street Art: Blue Spots

Never mind that there's a painter out there, 

someone assigned to delineate the water lines, 

who can't quite hang on to his bucket.

This is a person with a unique skill, one who 

is able to strew sapphires across

the barren moon surface of a local sidewalk,

bringing depth and beauty to what would otherwise 

be ordinary blue paint and concrete.