Wide-Open, Eyes Shut

Thursday Doors – Norm 2.0

Fear this
wide open space -exists
to construct walls

add windows
and doors
to enjoy the view.

If life isn’t fragments
what is the big picture?

tears witness death
storms wash me to sea
tides say goodbye, evidently.

Time Spent

Weekly Photo Challenge: Sweet

Time spent with a friend is sweet. Shared treats. Shared tweets. At Cupitol, Downtown Chicago, 455 E Illinois Avenue. If you find yourself there, sitting…

consider visiting the Museum of Contemporary Art, a short 20 minute walk away. Along the edge of Northwestern’s college campus.

Please do not use my photos for any purpose, without permission. Thank you.

Raped

Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well-lived.

word orgies
leave us naked
empty days and nights

your feasting strips humility
scraps of audacity linger-longer

recognize Christ?

Standing outside, admiring Joan Miro’s outdoor sculpture…


Miro’s Chicago

we were invited into The Chicago Temple by a passerby. It was absolutely beautiful inside. Ornate wood and stained glass warmed the interior and our noses.

Transformation

this weekend in Chicago is invigorating. it’s cold and light snow fell. ice crusts the shore. broken spaces release the energy.

being with another person is confining. we rarely agree because i am slow, quiet and want to savor the feelings the sounds and sights produce. he is fast, loud and out of touch. annoyed by everyone and everything. but i managed to make him wait in the snow while i took a few pictures.

i am tired but a good tired. i am existing in a sacred place.

this Chicago visit was to see Rodin’s sculptures at the Art Institute. i have not completely digested the experience. his sculptures pull so much out of me. the locked cage, broken open. infiltration welcomed.

while at the Institute, we decided to check out more of the contemporary art and revisit a few favorites.

Energy and motion made visible – memories arrested in space –Jackson Pollock

The Key Jackson Pollock, 1946

Part of the Accabonac Creek series and a prelude to his drip paintings.

Number 17A Jackson Pollack, 1948

this. being surrounded by art. it all makes me jealous. i want to paint. i imagine myself painting. i feel my body shifting, as i lift the brush. the canvas never stationary and neither am i. the color calling. my hips sway and i feel eyes watching me. i want to be bold but gravity keeps me from flying.

City Landscape Joan Mitchell, 1955

a close-up of the favorite place i would reside in Joan’s landscape. a happy place indeed. certainly lost but found to me. splashes of red, pink… orange. Enveloped by reality of black, white, grey, brown… blue.

yes, i am referring to myself. after all, borderline crossing is all about me. my willingness to share a glimpse of me, with you. tear a piece off and toss it. wait. scrutinize your intentions.

we all need order to heal the crags of depression that consume. perhaps we are all lost in Joan’s landscape. hanging around the wrong colors. worshipping the pain in our lives. i am learning to cross the river and enjoy the other side.

Chicago Time

Church is poetry. Poetry is life. A life well-lived.

Good morning…

Living poetry today. Bless you🧡🕊

does anybody really know what time it is? -Chicago

Confessions

1/26/2018. 7:23 am. The world is still dark. I am feeling the same. My inner world needs a spark. A match to strike this fear.

This, whatever this is, is my thinking out loud and inviting you in to my space, wherever that is…

Hurry! Look over here… Here! Right here and right now, movement is happening. I peer into the roaming molecules, all bumping in to each other. No “excuse me” or “beg your pardons” just blatant “get the xxxx out of my way or else!”.

Then continue “Heck, see how important i am. i am the queen of this world after all and you need to be ruled. Right?”

“Wrong!”

“Go ahead. Talk back. Be visible!” i tell myself.

Laying, lifeless, in the core of my soul, is an orange dot. An identified solar system rotates, bowing to this dot because it radiates warmth. But the surrounding air is so cold… this dot burns out.

This! Whatever this dot is, is attempting to pull me through a black hole. Deeper still, i stumble. I fall.

“Captain! all planets and stars identified!” A pause in time ensues. “How would you like to proceed?”

jeanne 🧡🕊🎶🎶🎶

Wind Games

A wisp of wind whiles away time…

we never leave

with anything

all belongs to in between

chances, choices, games.

Win some. Lose some.

Shoot the marble

hit the target

take a prize,

miss and regret surprise.

(Watched these two human-kites on Indian Rocks Beach, FL… mesmerizing sky ballet.)

Norm 2.0 Thursday Doors

Thursday Doors – January 25, 2018

Coca-Cola Bottling Company
858-868 Massachusetts Ave.
Indianapolis Indiana Circa 1931

The day I visited Indy Reads Books bookstore in the Chatham Arch Historic District, I spotted this gem waiting to be photographed. Using my IPhone 7 camera, with limited time, I managed to take a few shots.

Being curious, I did a little research. Coca-Cola moved their bottling production in 1964, further out from downtown Indianapolis, to Speedway (think Indy 500). The property was subsequently sold in 1968 to the Indianapolis Public School (IPS) district, used as a central kitchen and house school buses. In 2017 IPS sold the 11-acre property to Wisconsin-based Hendricks Commercial Properties LLC for $12 million. Hendricks $260 million redevelopment plan calls for 400 residential units, 200,000 square feet of retail space, 200,000 square feet of office space, a cinema and a 120-room West Elm hotel.

There is one problem. Contamination from the plant was found seeping into the surrounding Chatham Arch neighborhood and remediation is ongoing. Hendricks is seeking money from the city and state to help with costs.  There are no further updates available.

“The Coke plant, which opened in 1931, was designed by Rubush & Hunter, one of the top Indianapolis architecture firms at the time. Rubush & Hunter also designed the old Indianapolis City Hall, Hilbert Circle Theatre and other landmarks.

The 285,000-square-foot Coke plant was once the largest Coke bottling plant in the world. It is known for its terra cotta facade and impressive interior spaces. The art deco design includes details of flowers, fountains and sun rays. According to the Encyclopedia of Indianapolis, the design was intended to enhance ‘the hygienic image of the spotless bottling plant.'” (Briggs, 2016).

Briggs, J. (2016, March 08). How much of old Coke plant, art deco features will be saved? Retrieved January 25, 2018, from https://www.indystar.com/story/money/2016/03/08/how-much-old-coke-plant-art-deco-features-saved/81472696/

Olson, Scott. (2017, February 9). Contamination at former Coca-Cola plant site extends into neighborhood. Retrieved January 25, 2018, from https://www.ibj.com/articles/62464-contamination-at-former-coca-cola-plant-site-extends-into-neighborhood

Chatham Arch-Massachusetts Ave Historic Preservation Plan A 150 page pdf detailing the history of the area.

Regarding Beauty

Please click to read Sigrun’s “Regarding Beauty” Sub Rosa’s quiet and contemplative blog that never disappoints.

Her post is in regards to Andrew Wyeth. Mr. Wyeth was an American artist, who happened to vacation on Monhegan Island, Maine with his son Jamie Wyeth, also quite a remarkable artist.

Yes, my Monhegan that I hold so dear to my heart and mind!! This is how I was introduced to Andrew Wyeth’s art work. Exploring and learning about this magical place of many storied artists.


May 2016

The United States Post Office recently issued postage stamps, in 2017, to commemorate his skill in painting that demonstrates a sheer witness to spelled-out emotions, with quite an obvious definition.

beauty often cracks the surface of happiness and leaves a depth open to more, than had beauty not succumbed to let us know it had arrived. 

This is how i experience Andrew Wyeth’s paintings. I feel the breeze breech my soul, witness the longing of a girl far from home, and welcome the sunshine through a clear pane of glass. Mr. Wyeth moves us to feel life without knowing what tomorrow brings. He always brought with him mindfulness on his brush.

I purchased the stamps with the purpose of enjoying his art work. They remain intact on my desk, waiting for an opportune time to write a beloved friend.

What friend exists to warrant a stop in my day,
to comprehend the comings and goings of shadow
a written note to alert
the wings of a dove descend.

Bird in the House, Andrew Wyeth June 6, 1980

Wake, Jamie Wyeth