Purple and Yellow Are Complimentary Colors ...

And speak very well of each other.

 

No. Please. Just. No.

 

Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, It's Off to Work the Polls I Go

 In anticipation of unpleasant results from the elections, the local news stations tonight were covering the steps downtown Indy merchants were taking to protect their businesses from damage by rioters. Many have covered their shop windows in plywood to preventing shattering.

Late this afternoon, I went to the grocery to buy some items to take with me tomorrow and found the place to be as crowded as if it were an approaching holiday. It's not. I got the distinct feeling people were preparing to hunker down - away from the virus, away from trouble.

I've worked the polls at many other elections, but this one is different. This time I'm scared. It's like being stalked by an estranged spouse, one who has a gun and a bunch of disreputable lackeys. 

Please, vote blue. Save our lives, our country from this criminal and his minions. 

Walking Through the Rain to Go Swimming

 

When the city's gardeners change the flowers in the giant concrete urns from the waxy red blooms to giant heads of purple cabbage, I know that winter is soon to follow. Sometimes they're pretty, especially when the morning sun shines through the leaves. That's when they make art out of the winter's gray cold.

These little guys have, so far, survived the first round of cabbagification of the garden beds. The lovely flowers seem so delicate, a contrast to the robust green hydrangeas planted behind them. As the season wanes, the hydrangeas fade to gold and brown, while the little purple flowers soldier on

Theme Day at the Polls: Kindness: Voting in the Time of Covid

I voted last Wednesday, joining the line outside the Marion County Building at about 12:30 p.m. When you count all the bends and twists in the line, it must have been about two to three block long. But it was a nice day, everyone was friendly, and I was there to vote, dammit.

We chatted to each other, shared stories, and helped each other get through the afternoon - saving spots for people who had to use the restroom or go put more money in their parking meters. One of the men in line had brought a wheeled office chair to sit in while he waited, playing games or doing work on his laptop.

There was entertainment in the form of a couple combos, one performing R&B covers, the other jazz. The man in the top photo was writing poems using words provided by passers-by. It was nice to see his large hands working the keys of an old manual typewriter! 

As we waited, deputies from the Sheriff's Department, walked the line, stopping every once in a while to get very elderly or disabled persons moved to another, shorter, line so they would not have to wait too long. One of the deputies stopped to ask me if I'd care to join the shorter line. I don't know why, but I was taking pictures at the time, so maybe that attracted his attention. I thanked him but turned him down, saying that, while I appreciated the offer, I am healthy and preferred to wait my turn with the others. He seemed both astonished and amused, but went on his way. At the time we'd gotten a bit more than half-way through the line.

In all, I waited about two and a quarter hours before we got inside the building to fill out and cast our ballots. The process went smoothly and I walked over to whole Foods Market for some groceries, then was on the bus for home around 3:30 p.m.

   

 

My Covid Vaca, Day 77: The Giant Cornflake Surfs the Breakers with His Buds

The Giant Cornflake Surfs the Breakers with His Buds. Drawing BIC Ballpoint Pens and Felt-tip Markers. 

Along with millions of other people, I've been doing the Covid-19 stay-at-home initiative that started last March. But here we are, three months later, 

and I just now get around to posting pictures.

I'd lined up a couple short-term jobs, both of which 

were canceled due to the pandemic. 

(There went the new MCM sofa I wanted to buy with the extra earnings). I'd also planned to make a series of small silk-screen prints of swimmers to sell at local meets. The print studio was closed and the meets, including trials for the USA Olympic Diving Team, were also canceled. In addition, since the pools were closed, our masters swim team practices were canceled.

The trick has been to find something to do to stay sane.

I read a lot, so I just read more. I dick around on my computer playing silly games and read the comments made on FB by the fkd up trolls (Do they get paid for their vapid bigotry by their Russian masters, or is it all "in good fun"?).

And I draw. I bought a thick sketchbook and a packet of BIC colored ballpoint pens. I'm trying to make a series of nice pictures I can develop as silkscreen prints when everything re-opens. So far, I've filled one book and am about one-third the way through the second. The drawings are of swimmers, a few of trees, but mostly 

of completely non-objective compositions that I find utterly engaging.

"The Colors of Water." Drawing. BIC ballpoint pens and felt-tip markers.

When You Give the Kids Your Camera: Biscuit

Meet Biscuit, the stuffed toy puppy I gifted to

one of my grandnephews, Lennex, on Christmas.

The pictures were taken by my grandniece, 

Kinley, who had asked to use my camera 

on Thanksgiving, then again on

Christmas Eve. 

I somehow think I am the one

who has received the best gifts:

the little boy quickly adopted the toy

into his heart, and the little girl has found

a new outlet for her interest

in art and drawing