Gone Swimmin'

I got up early Saturday morning to be able 

to get to a swim meet on time. Afraid I'd sleep through 

the electronic beep of my radio alarm, 

I hadn't slept much the night before, so I was up

at 5 a.m., showered, had breakfast, made certain

my backpack had all the stuff I needed,

then left to catch the 5:45 bus.

A few minutes later, the bus rolled up, a giant

black box on wheels that held its light inside,

a lantern I could sit inside as the beacon

made its way downtown.

After transferring to a second bus

I arrived at an intersection where I walked

a few blocks east to the Ruth Lilly
Recreation Center found an outside entrance 
to the pool then sat down to watch the U of I
swim team's morning practice. 
On the way, I saw a lot of sculptures
dotting the campus grounds, some of them swooping
into space, others coming out of the ground,
as though born there.
The just emerging dawn lent a fresh feel
to the atmosphere and I felt as though I was
the first to see the world that day,
clean and new, unspoiled by greed and
current events.

Paint Brushes the Sky

The Indianapolis Museum of Art held a block party 

on Friday to unveil artist Roy Lichtenstein's 

five-part sculpture, Five Brushstrokes.

People of all ages came to see the latest addition 

to the Dudley and Mary Louise Sutphin Mall. 

The sculpture, designed in 1983-1984,

and fabricated in 2012, was a gift to the museum

by the Lichtenstein Foundation, with assistance from

the Robert L. and Marjorie J. Mann Fund.

Dunno ... Nuthin' Special I Can Think of

... So how 'bout a ziggurat-ish looking pyramid 

fountain inside a circle?

And below is another view of the sculpture

through which I took the picture.

They are on the IUPUI campus in downtown Indy,

on the grounds outside the library.

To Remember

I've lived in Indianapolis a long time now. 

I've passed Christ Church Cathedral thousands of times over the years, 

attended services, and gotten homemade shortcakes at the annual 

Strawberry Festival. Until today, however, I'd never noticed

this little sculpture set in a corner of the church yard.

Incised in the base of the sculpture are the words, 

To Remember ALBERT SPLATT, 1940-1977.

I only found one mention of him on-line, in the caption

for a newspaper photo, showing him making a presentation

to one of the church's Strawberry Festival founders.

Whoever Mr. Splatt was, he was sufficently respected by members

of the church for them to want to make a small memorial

in his honor. The humble statue of St. Francis sits just off the sidewalk 

around Monument Circle, a bird in hand and his toes 

curled over the edge of the base.

The Reach of the Spirit

Each year, the concrete pad in front of the 4-H Building 

at the Indiana State Fairgrounds becomes the home

for a sculpture. The past couple years the site has been visited

by very large fiberglass representations of the farm

couple in American Gothic, while last year saw a dancing

couple from a painting by Renoir.

This year welcomed a creation both more modest

in scale and more ambitious in that it is

non-representational (i.e. "modern) art.

From the plaque:

"The Hoosier Spirit is fruitful, strong and resilient. ...

When faced with a challenge, Hoosiers respond much

like the farmer -- we get our hands dirty --

we do the work."

Jamie Dickerson, Sculptor

Made from Indiana hardwood, the exterior of the pieces invites 

the viewer to enter, to explore them as they twist and rise

towards the sky, much as the trees that produced them,

and just as people continue to work towards their goals.

Red Curve: Linear V

One of the sculptures in the White River State Park, Linear V

 was made by Jarrett K. Hawkins of Deer Park, Ohio.

Not only do I enjoy it because it's red, but because of 

the way its ridges and texture add a bit of syncopation to

the dance my eyes take as they follow the sculpture's curve

from its base to the sky.

And did I say it's red?

"The Tent"

I'll be the first to admit that I do not care for this sculpture.

It does not soar. It does not sing. It does not shimmer.

It reminds me of paint samples, left in the sun

by research chemists to have their color fastness tested.

Called The Tent, it was created by Donald Lipski

and installed in White River State Park in 2008.

This morning, I found something to like about it: seen from this angle, 

one panel reflected the other, breaking up the grid.

The result, for me, was interesting in that it added pattern and

 rhythm that on previous occasions did not exist.

"Rock the bag." You know who you are...