November Theme Day: Out of Focus

My little camera is too small to take super-sharp 

action pictures. It's too dark in the Natatorium to get

clear shots of the swimmers at speed: 

in natural light, they appear blurred, but when I

adjust the shutter speed, the light goes away.

However, I actually like some of the results, which I

use as reference for my drawings.

At times, the swimmers seem elongated,

 becoming even more a part of the water.

I like to watch how the liquid moves and flows

around their bodies, separates and then

rejoins its fluid self as the swimmer

passes through.

When I am swimming myself, I like

to see the water flowing past my goggles

when I turn to breathe; the more correctly 

I am able to swim, the more

quickly the water seems to pass.

I actively look for it and know to adjust 

my technique if it isn't happening.

And then ... and then, when I look at the bottom,

the water breaks the gridded tile into

facets and even the long black stripe becomes

diamonds, drifting away into a blur.

The theme for the first day of November, 

in case you haven't figured it out,

is Out of Focus. To see how other members of

the City Daily Photo portal have

interpreted the theme, just click on the

nearby link, or on the CDP badge

to the right of this post. 

A Reflective Moment

This past weekend, I worked as a timer for 

the 2016 SwimFest, the long course championships 

for age group swimmers from clubs all over

the state of Indiana.

It is frenetic, crowded and noisy

with the shouts of family and friends

drowning out the sounds of the swimmers' 

rhythmic splashing as they swim

the length of the Natatorium's 50-meter pool.

Their slim, fit bodies belie the image

we get of the obese, couch-bound teenager;

these kids are fit, confident, and motivated. 

I am pleased to be able to help them

with my time because they also

serve to keep me motivated --

you have no idea how embarrassing 

it is to know that a 12-year-old can swim

any of their events in one-half the time

it would take me to do the same.

This pictures were taken after the meet Saturday night.

I was waiting for the bus as the sun set, 

and was able to catch the reflections of the fading light 

in the windows of the IUPUI Student Union 

building across the way.

March Theme Day: Where I Belong

I love the smell of chlorine in the morning.

Practices at the IUPUI Natatorium were cancelled 

because the Indiana High Shool Athletic Association 

was holding the Boys' State Championships 

this past weekend. Instead of swimming 

I volunteered to be an usher.

 Just like last week at the girls' championships, 

I was happy to be in the building, sharing 

familiar smells and sounds with thousands 

of participants and observers.

The boys passed time in the company 

of their team-mates, warming up in

the pool, chatting, and playing card games,

The sounds of cheering echoed from the roof 

of the Nat, as rhythmic sounds 

of the swimmers' kicking added a subtle

background line to the competition.

I wish that sound could be miked and

played during telecasts. Added to the way the 

water feels as the swimmer's arms pull

against it, and the way it looks as it rushes by

one's goggles, people might get

some understanding of the pleasure

one feels as one gets stronger

and more confident.

And feeling this is where I belong.

Love/Water

I love to get to the Natatorium early 

to watch the swimmers.

Very often there are large groups 

either practicing or warming up for competition.

The sounds of the water and the rhythm of 

people moving up and down the lanes

is both mesmerizing and comforting.

None of the pictures I've taken so far of

the swimmers has captured the fascination

I feel by the almost balletic routine

of their movements.

While swimming myself, I sometimes 

think of the swimmers and try to emulate 

their long line, keeping my body straight 

and toes relaxed yet pointed.

"Relaxed." Yeh, that's the big thing for me;

I don't think about going fast, I think 

"Technique, technique, technique. 

Technique fast, technique fast, technique fast." 

My body comes up "on plane" and I feel 

as though the water is zooming by me.

It makes a difference.

I count my laps. I count my strokes.

I cast a glance at the clock

and then turn my eyes toward the bottom

of the pool to begin again,

another step in my odyssey to achieve a dream.

My love for you is like water.

Clear as crystal, its currents weave through,

creating inclusions, weaving, changing

yet always there, adding depth

and bands of color, rainbows of feeling 

from the darkest indigo

to the happiest of yellows.

Fight it and you flounder.

Rest quietly and it will support you,

carrying you to the other side

as quickly or as slowly as you may care

to go, but always there.

Splash 'n' Go-Go-Go

For over a month, production crews worked

at the IU Natatorium to prepare the pool for telecast of

the 2015 Mutual of Omaha "Duel in the Pool."

People who come to swim at the Nat on a regular

basis were impressed by the "makeover."

Used to the somewhat stark functionality of the pool and

it's fluorescent and LED lighting, it was wonderful

to see it transformed by blue and sparkly lights.

The main competition pool, actually 50 meters

in length, is transformed during the winter

months by bulkheads to create two 25-meter pools. 

What I found intriguing was that crew members

had constructed stadium seating on/over 

the north end pool using portable dock elements

for the base. I wondered how the water displacement 

had been calculated: the section shown in the top picture

from the first railing on back is essentially an island

with seats for, I believe, 560 spectators.

The place was sold out. 

The pictures above and below were taken of 

the first event of the Thursday evening session, 

the Women's 400M Individual Medley.

Each young woman swam 100 meters each 

of four different strokes, opening with butterfly,

then backstroke and breaststroke, ending with freestyle. 

Points were awarded based on each competitor's 

result, with the winning team determined 

by which had the most points.

Swimming meets are loud, boisterous events.

Encouraged and abetted by booming, energetic music,

this one was no exception. People cheered 

on their favorites and were even more heartened

by close competition, such as that in the

Women's 400 Meter Medley Relay.

I always leave meets excited and determined

to improve my own swimming. I'm certain 

that the many children who attended

with their parents and coaches felt the same way.

They watched and hoped, knowing that with hard work

they may one day be able to swim in similar

water, to bring home medals of their own.

I'm affected, too, wanting to take

my own swimming to a better level.

However, no matter how hard I may work,

my own best efforts will always take about twice

the time these athletes achieve.

It must be the purple suits. I want one.

Ready, Not Ready

We returned to the Natatorium competition pool

for practice last week. I was happy to be

back in "good water" that was cool and calm,

meant for swimmers.

"Meant for swimmers" is the operative term

here, because the Nat is a world class facility.

I walked in last night to see not only kids from a couple

of high schools practicing, but black-clad

members of a production crew hanging

steel framework for lighting and camera equipment.

This equipment will be used in about

a month's time, when the meet between teams

from the USA and Europe will be telecast by the

NBC Sports Network, December 11 and 12.

Called the Mutual of Omaha "Duel in the Pool," 

the meet will bring together top swimmers 

from both the USA and Europe in the eighth renewal 

of an event that has always provided 

top-flight competition.

(Buy tickets and attend; it is an exciting,

invigorating occasion.)

Meanwhile, following the behest of our coaches,

the masters swimmers, most of whom are old enough

to be the parents of the likes of Ryan Lochte,

Missy Franklin, and Michael Phelps,

swam their workouts beneath the rigging,

as slim and fast in our minds, if not in fact,

as our elite chlorinated comrades

Almost Ready

Since March, the Natatorium at IUPUI has been undergoing 

the first phase of its renovation.

For a long while, water was kept in the pool to prevent

possible damage from falling tools.

The lane lines were loosened, floating on the water 

all summer. Recently they were removed,

the pool was emptied, repaired as needed, then

cleaned and polished. The diving platforms

were shrouded in plastic like a Cristo installation,

then they, too, were resurfaced, making ready

for the next practice of aspiring divers.

For months, I've stood like a child in front

of a candy store window, watching the tile setters

at their trade. Now the workmen are cleaning 

up the dust of their work, the pool has been refilled 

and will, once again, be cleaned for swimmers,

who will return for their practice sessions

in about two weeks. I can hardly wait.

Tools

Here is an unusual still life -- the tools that serve 

to help me become a better swimmer.

Most days, I travel to and from practice with

a pair of what looks like a pair of blue fairy wings

sticking out of my backpack. 

They are fins designed to help me improve

my position in the water, to strengthen my kick,

and to help my ankles increase flexibility.

I can tell you that, from the first I could feel the effects 

of the fins, strengthening the muscles of my butt.

The pair of green leaf-like objects are

hand paddles, meant to add resistance

as one pulls against the water. They also serve

to help the swimmer achieve the correct 

position for their hands as they enter the water. 

It's a purposeful action; the incorrect angle just 

about brings one me to an embarrassing 

halt in the water until I get myself 

sorted out to begin again.

The paddles come in graduated sizes.

These are the smallest because

I have a bit of osteoarthritis in one shoulder

and too-large paddles can cause injury.

The goggles and swim cap are more familiar

items, with my silicone cap having

a Roy Lichtenstein-inspired design, in keeping

with my artistic interests.

The last is a pink and black pull buoy,

a piece of dense foam rubber one puts

between one's legs while practicing "pull sets,"

which is swimming without kicking 

in order to strengthen one's arms. 

The buoy helps to maintain body position.

I've added these training aids bit by bit

on my own. As I've improved and become

stronger, I started to look for additional assistance

to be more able to compete keep up with

my teammates. I've started to have goals for myself

that go beyond just getting to the other end

of the pool; I've started to think about winning.

And that's scary.

Home Remodeling

Friday, I went to a mid-morning swim practice 

at the Natatorium. Somewhere in the back 

of my pea-brain, I'd expected we'd be using 

the main competition pool. 

After all, it had been used for the 

YMCA Long Course Championships 

just the week before, right?

I was surprised to see the lane lines loosened 

and floating in the pool like a necklace 

of beads, thrown down after a night of hard partying.

What? No men in Speedos?

Instead, workmen with jackhammers were hard 

at work, tearing up the remaining sections of tiled 

deck that hadn't yet been replaced.

We used the instruction pool to the north

that is separated from the competition pool

by a long glass wall. It kept out most of the sound

of the jackhammers - until one put one's

head in the water, where it echoed for the entire

time I was in the water. Overall, though,

it was a quiet place, with just the sound of

Coach Craig's voice as he gave instruction

to the swimmers.

I've missed my home. Last week was like meeting 

an old friend on the street and today's swim

was working towards a reunion, one that I am 

looking forward to this November, after the current 

phase of remodeling is complete.

Divided Light

Every so often the sun filters through the slats 

that screen the interior of the Natatorium parking garage 

from public view, creating a warp and woof pattern 

at the entryway, where the sunlight 

is reflected onto the concrete.

Maître Tom, le nageur du Nat

When I watch Tom and Victoria practice, 

I don't notice anything odd about their appearance 

in the water; I take the distortion for granted.

But when I tried to draw Tom, I found the distortions 

needed explanation: No, his arms aren't really 

all weenified, his legs and body aren't that thick; it's just 

the way the light is reflected by the moving water.

While working on the drawing, I was reminded 

of Picasso's Demoiselles d'Avignon, 

the painting that inspired the artist's development

of Cubism. The debut of this painting in 1907

marked the birth of modern art. From my art history

classes, I understood that Cubism was, in part,

an effort by the artists to flatten perspective and

to keep the viewer's eye moving continually

around the composition. I didn't try to "flatten"

the perpective at all, but the distortions made by 

the water certainly force one to keep looking

around the picture, making it move.

Blue Rectangles and Concentric Arcs with Scraggly Winter Stuff Between

I must be getting a bit of cabin fever:

While visiting the Marsh Gallery at 

the Herron School of Art,

I looked out the window to notice 

the ribbed sculpture at the front of the school. 

It seemed to pair with the blue rectangles

of the windows across the street,

making a nice contrast with the bare 

tree branches between.

A bit to the left, winter had scrawled

similar scribbles across the exterior 

of the IUPUI Library.

The Quiet Inside

When I go to the Natatorium to swim, the pool is usually 

alive with swimmers of various ages and abilities.

Divided into two twenty-five meter pools, one end had 

a few swimmers doing laps while this one was set up

in competition mode with double lane markers,

awaiting a college team scheduled to practice for

their meet this weekend. With banners showing pictures

of past champions hanging from the ceiling,

perhaps the pool was reflecting on its history as a place 

where great swimmers have performed.

Not long from now, the pool will be closed for

renovations and repairs, all preparations

for next year, when the Olympic Trials

to choose this country's representatives for

the 2016 Diving Team will be held.

I will miss it. 

There isn't another place locally 

that I enjoy as much.

Glistening Cold

With spring just five weeks away, 

the weather has been tolerable. This has been

deceptive, though, because the notorious polar vortex

is coming to town, once again, its icy fingers

set to grasp us all in a chilling grip.

Moisture was in the air as I approached the 

Natatorium for practice and, when I left

a few hours later, the lights from on-coming cars

showed the mist on the bus stop glass.  

Little Round Mound

As I walked to the Natatorium one day last week,

I saw this little round mound sitting atop 

the little round mound of a berm, chowing down on an acorn.

I think this squirrel is too chubby to be a male, 

and is, instead, a female preparing for her accouchement 

a few weeks from now inside her fur-lined nest.

A Journey

I was asked by the newsletter editor for my swimming club 

to respond to a short questionnaire about myself 

and "why I swim." In response, I told her that, in addition 

to using the sport to help me combat obesity, 

I've found that swimming has given me more confidence 

in other aspects of my life. It is also helping me 

to become more disciplined in working towards 

achieving my goals away from the pool.

For the past year, I've been working to develop,

to revitalize, really, my drawing and painting skills.

Not surprisingly, these drawings have had swimmers

as my subject matter. The drawings aren't so much 

about the swimmers as they are about the water,

the colors and patterns that element takes on as the

athletes glide, kick, and move in the beautiful,

blue stuff. I'm working to make my marks on the canvas

and paper more personal, reflecting more how

I feel about what I see. I don't want them to be 

mere illustrations; that is too easy.

I love David Hockney's swimming pool paintings, 

but I don't care for his swimmers. While they are, 

purportedly, homoerotic, I find the male

figures all to have undefined bodies with flat butts,

completely unappetizing to this womanly eye.

But never mind that - the way Hockney renders water

is interesting, and his marks are unique to him.

And so, I work towards making my own marks to

describe how I feel about this activity and the people 

with whom I share the pool. 

The top picture is a detail of a small painting 

I am currently working on. The second is a ballpoint drawing 

I made to use as reference. The third is the underdrawing

for the little painting. It was done over another 

painting I'd started and set aside. 

Hell, I liked the brush strokes set against 

their predecessors grid marks and washy blue blotches. 

I painted over it anyway.

More Pretty

Walking towards the entrance to the Natatorium 

late Tuesday afternoon, a crystal glimmer caught my eye.

I turned to see twigs covered in icy bangles.

The warm air, vented from inside the pool,

 had condensed on the ground cover, 

enveloping the twigs and remaining leaves 

in sequin gowns. Little sweaters, really, to protect 

them from the chilly air.

Yellow Triangle

To get the picture I want, one showing the geometry 

and perspective in this entryway,

I'd have to move the trash can. 

That means I'd have to touch it. Then touch my camera. 

Then put the camera back in my coat pocket. 

Then touch the trash can. Again.

Please, just imagine the nice point on the triangle 

so I don't have to ever touch the trash can.

Sometimes, I feel this overwhelming beigeness

I've walked past the vent to the Natatorium

 hundreds of times, but it wasn't until Tuesday 

that I noticed the contrast between the field of rocks 

and the horizontal lines of the vent.

And then there's this from my blog pal, David,

that is guaranteed to blast any beigeness

out of one's psyche.

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."