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.

S'no Relief

I know. I know. It's all relative.

I went out for a bit yesterday and mounds of snow,

scooped to the curbs by plows, had patches 

and puddles of melted water 

seeping from beneath their massed bottoms.

That water froze overnight, turning my

tiny bit of the universe into a slip'n'slide.

Today's temperatures are 32 degrees colder

than average for this time in February.

My mind and body are preparing to swim

later this afternoon, but my skin is

protesting. In spite of my diligent efforts, 

the dry air whisks the moisture from my skin.

It itches. It itches.

Please, winter, go away.

Monster Slobber

Man, talk about desperate!

I could have gone into my archives for

a photo, but I just wasn't inclined

to do it. All I've wanted to do is curl up

under my blankies and watch movies, 

the more sappy and romantic, the better;

it's cold outside and I can't get warm.

I finally made it out of the house to go to

the store. Of course, I had my little camera with

me, so could record the appearance of

the downspout ogre, its slobber frozen, with

a tiny dribble of ice hanging just so.

I didn't want to risk breaking it off to see

whether it was clinging by a slender filament - 

the ogre might have come to life.

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.

Stone Cold

Looking north from the corner 

of Meridian and Ohio Streets, 

the cold light seemed 

to emphasize the patterns 

created by the windows.

The buildings line the street, 

tartan plaids built of stone, 

belonging to clans of attorneys 

and corporate moguls.