Dashed Lines, One With Selfie

On Friday, I went to the Ivy Tech University admissions 

office to inquire about taking classes.

I want to update my computer graphics skills, 

learn to put together websites, and to improve 

my design skills to compete in a more 

contemporary market.

There aren't many jobs available that

interest me at all; all I want to do

is art, photography, and river history related.

There are often jobs available with organizations

involved in those fields. I want one, so ...

back to school. 

Street Art: Minimalism

Long ago, the owners of an auto parts business 

on North Capitol Street painted over the glass block 

walls of their building. The blocks probably

replaced windows for security reasons while

still allowing light in the building.

Over the years, the blocks have been painted white

to keep passers-by from seeing the warehoused

parts. As the paint peeled, more coats were added

giving the surface even more texture. 

Pictures like these are easy to find.

Textures, patterns, and depth with just the right

bits of color are always around.

However, if one tried to create it purposely,

it's another matter altogether, one involving a clear

vision of one's intent and absolute understanding

of one's materials. I found a number of

paintings by Robert Ryman that illustrate this point. 

While called a "minimalist", his paintings 

are loaded with variations in tone and texture

that keep them lively and interesting.

Several years ago, one of his white paintings 

sold for $9.6 million. Next month,

Sotheby's is selling another of these paintings,

expecting it to bring $15/20 million.

Cy Twombly in Downtown Indy

The textures and muted shades of concrete and brick

on a downtown building reminded me 

of Cy Twombly drawings. For whatever reason,

I can gaze at the artist's drawings for long periods of time,

lost in the lines and scratches evoking long-lost

civilizations and mythologies.

The rebar emerging from the concrete walls 

of this old building, and the graffiti below seemed 

to echo some of Twombly's interests. 

I stood there a good while, gazing at the wall, 

its textures, and subtle changes in tone. 

In a time when every imperfection is screeded

over by a coating of scratchy taupe stucco,

this wall was a visual delight.

Cy Twombly. Untitled. 1964/84. Oil stick, wax crayon, and
graphite on canvas. 80-1/2 x 98-1/4 ins.  Whitney Museum of Art

The Snowman's Schlong ...

... Was formed in the wheel well of a passing car, 

which then dropped it in the middle of the street, 

just beyond the snowman's reach.