Outside and Inside

Looked out the window at first light...sun striking the tops of the Collegiate Range across the valley....



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set out for the Waterdog Lakes...my favorite snowshoe trail. Very difficult to find trailhead but once you are on it, follow the line of old power lines...




Which was dominated by ski tracks...I tried to avoid using them but at times I had to...I would otherwise sink into the snow...so I went until the only track was a single set made by skis which had come from over the top of the mountain. And I was generally knee deep, a few times hip deep, in snow at that point.



The land drained toward the east..that must be the direction of the lakes. But no tracks...not even deer...the snow was really soft even with the additional width, length of my snowshoes.




Did some yoga, iced my knee, put my snow gear away...generally I just hang them to dry out the sweat...then use them again when they are dry. Going to bike downtown to get a teapot.

Location:Monarch Mountain...the backside

Patterns

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so I am back in the world of black and white...no room for other colors this time of year.




Well, yeah, some brown, too. but when you get high in the back bowl behind Leadville...it is all grey, white, black.




Much of the black realized by abandoned mining structures, some quite abstract, others resembling a train tressel from which you half expect to see an old rail car filled with gnomes in bright green metallic uniforms.




It is a kind of landscape, created and then abandoned (by the Guggenheims no less...who are now in New York, Berlin, Dubai, Bilboa, with all there art. Well, it all got started here...then shelters, then Steele mills in Pueblo....




Then on the way home...a cloud formation hovering over the Central Valley...finding it hard to make up its mind.




The house I am staying in is the brown one on the right.

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Location:Salida, Colorado

Tabernash

And after passing mile after mile of parched brown Nebraska cornfields, we came home to the Front Range. Two days later we drove over the Continental Divide where the winter's first snows had fallen.




We were going to spend a long weekend in the town of Tabernash. Well not really a town...more a kind of settlement...permanent population of about 200 spread over mountains and meadows in the Fraser Valley. We had a cabin right off the highway.




It was a home-built cabin, constructed on several levels, with outside stairs resting on a pile of earth and rock like an old Norsk farm building but with an interior wall of glass facing north to take in the views. Views that constantly changed as the sun moved overhead and as clouds brought snow down to our elevation, as morning fogs came over the valley, as clouds obscured and then revealed the distant peaks and the ski runs at Winter Park were covered with their first white blanket of the year.












We read. We ate. We went for walks. We talked. We slept.















I did all that but also discovered how much fun it is to play with blocks.










Always something new to create with blocks. Especially when you can look up from your playing and see the world writ so at large outside.

Chicago

A city. By a lake. Tall buildings. It is good to experience a city when we live in this fairly small town...just to remind myself of scale. And the diversity and density of humanity. And the kinds of buildings and public spaces you can create at that scale The lobby of the Palmer Hotel. The new wing for contemporary art at the Art Institute.










As far as the new wing, the best part is the pedestrian bridge connecting it to the Millennium Park...making a more democratic connection to "the people." and it is very functional in its ability to display new large scale contemporary art. But it does not juxtapose art with architecture, does not cause the spirit to soar as does, for example, the new spaces at the Met or MOMA in New York. Yet it was thronged with a crowd of 20 and 30 year olds which bodes well for the future of the institute.





And, well, any museum that can give my nephew, Greg, and his wife Mary, a chance to spend Sunday in The Park with Seurat can't be all bad.






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Location:Chicago

Sculpture

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We saw a lot of good, even great, sculpture on this trip. Among other sites the Meijers Botanic Gardens. In Grand Rapids. AT the same time as the ArtPrize, a major arts festival...some good, some not-so-good...but some wondrous pieces.

Like the above horse. Modeled on some preliminary sketches by da Vinci but never executed because of the immense amount of technical requirements for the creation of such a huge figure. Now it sits in a kind of amphitheater with sloping lawns that school children can roll down when they have their lunch break.




The gardens provide framing, so different what you see between four walls in a museum...even five walls. Trees, grasses...not manicured but left to grow and fend for themselves...cover the approaches to these structures...suddenly they, or parts of them, are There.





Meanwhile down on the Grand Rapids, one of the finalists. "Horses." made of tree trunks, branches, twigs...probably on a steel outline...barrel down the Grand River...fleeing a battle? Running free? Just splashing around?









But my very favorite, "Albert Einstein between theorems," on a street corner downtown.





I have a whole lot more respect for Grand Rapids than I did when I went to college down the way in Holland, MI

Location:Grand Rapids, Michigan

Books

So what is it about books...and reading? Here's my brother, Tom, sitting in his favorite spot on the sofa (a Turkish word for the dais on which the Grand Vizier sat), with...could it be a large format comic book? Or a manual for a new electronic device?


Which assuredly is not what the saint below was reading...probably something to do with his immortal soul. Which is actually what Tom teaches in some of his courses: the religious themes in American literature.




So I guess they are both engaged, one way or the other, in that most human activity, learning. Let's that all those nameless souls who gave us an alphabet, a clay tablet, a scroll, a book, an iPad.



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Our Lady

Spent a few days visiting my brother, Tom, an English literature professor at Notre Dame in Indiana. The university claims to fame: its football, its high academic standards, its Catholicism, its endowments.

So students walk across the well tended grounds, sit in the fine library with its touchdown Jesus, upside down in the reflecting pool, probably visit the grotto for a prayer before exams, go to classes. Tho' sitting in my brother's class, one of the students (joint accounting and English major) sid he would not be in class on Friday "because he was going to China for a week" for some form of international business school competition. Didn't happen when I was in college.













I wandered through the basilica...gothic revival recently restored...noting the stained glass saints with their halos and the popes with their crowns...gives one the sense of France rather than the American Midwest...













In the ornate administration building, an historic note on Catholicism. Murals painted in the 19th century on the life of Columbus. Columbus? Well, at the time the university was founded...1880s...the country, and particularly rural areas, experienced a wave of anti-Catholicism. The pope as the anti-Christ. So Catholics tried to create a symbol to stand for the Catholic contributions to America. They pushed for making Columbus a saint but that was a stretch even for the 19th century. But they did get a federal and bank holiday...in addition to the murals.







Given the current attitudes toward Islam, it is useful to remember that some of us have been there before.

Nebraska Run

The drought is real. Mile after mile of scorched earth...as if a prairie fire had just passed by. And, then, every 20 miles or so, a crossroads, a place to sleep and eat and get ready for the next day.


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And, then, in Omaha an excellent art museum housed in what was once voted "One of the 100 most beautiful buildings in the United States.". They had some real jewels...I especially liked the mid 19th century plains paintings.






But also there were unfamiliar worlds to explore.









Which after all what art does. Makes you stop the car and get out and take a look. Like this allegory of a Venetian victory in a sea battle against the Ottoman Empire. It is all in the perspective of going through portals that frame your sight.

Am sitting across from the Notre Dame campus, drinking an evening coffee, ready to bike back to Tommy's house.

Location:Drinking coffee