Occasionally I’ll be the first swimmer at the pool. Undisturbed, the waters present a quietly impressive spectacle. I finally remembered to take the camera along on the off chance and was rewarded with a clear and placid opportunity.
Within and surrounding the water is a series of rhythms. The bottom of the pool is tiled which is most evident in the black lane guide. Here a very fine grained repetition presents itself. This is answered by the strings of lane divider floats with their color contrast. Toward the open air are the reflections of the strings of flags which warn the backstroker of an impending wall. And beyond, the separate lights and the coffered ceiling. All of these elements serve their various functions, but when congregated within the depths and upon the reflecting surface of the water, become a form of unity. Here is a design created by the architect and mediated by the water, answering to its own set of laws.
After I’m done admiring, I will dip a toe and watch these quiet relationships dissolve into sinuous patterns. Then its time to don the goggles and get to work.
I am always fascinated with reflections that create a visual superposition of inner and outer worlds. A swimmer captured mid-lane would soften the geometry, but keep the bilateral symmetry, if they were doing one of the inefficent strokes I prefer.
Steve:
I see your point. The swimmer, however, would mess up the entire inner/outer dynamic as the view of the bottom and the reflections from the surface, both, would be disrupted.
Which inefficient stroke would you prefer? I’m sure I could oblige.
Yes, that was more an observation than a suggestion.
I’ve always liked the frog-kick, so I prefer breaststroke, or whatever it’s called when on one’s back. If you could take a picture of yourself in motion, that would be excellent. My kid has been snapping his portrait bike-riding at night, with very cool results. I recommend a waterproof camera.
Steve:
I assume the motion would be in the water. I can give you two if by land.
Your kid? You have a kid? He or she has an artistic bent. Very good.
Yes, I do something like a rotated breast stroke. And I’m sure there is an official name for it.
Love the photo, for the same reasons mentioned above. I’m intrigued by the layers, as I call them.
I once took photos of my television which was broadcasting a video of a show on American art, which was showing a television program from the 1950s. I then zoomed in and cropped the photos. I really enjoyed the process.
I once wrote that divinity is repetition. Or was that repetition is divinity? ;-)
But, is it art?
Great picture!
This morning, I looked at reiterations in cloud patterns over Lake Michigan – long and short streaks meeting at angles less than 90 degrees.
My two local mentors want me to practice sketching. Thus, there is no photograph of my trip this weekend.
Tree:
Ohmmmm, I just don’t know. I do remember that the minister used to bore me to death in church.
Glad you like the shot. As I said, I’ve been meaning to get it for some time. I’m intrigued by the still waters that accompany the relationships. If time allows I will dip one toe briefly and watch that single gentle perturbation spread in multiples to the other end of the pool, causing the reflected environment to dance about ever more emphatically.
Birgit:
And glad you like the shot as well.
Were they vapor trails? We have a Mentor On The Lake. Where do yours live?
Jay,
No vapor trail, natural clouds.
What is ‘Mentor On The Lake’. One of my mentors is a ceramicist, the wife a late art prof at MSU, Jens Plum. The other a librarian at the library in Empire. She studied art and did art but life’s vagaries side tract her. I am trying to mentor her as well, not in art but in ‘getting back to what you love’.
Birgit:
Bad joke. Mentor On The Lake is a town out east of here. It includes Lakeland Community College, so there may be a mentoring factor at work.
Jay, what a crazy name. Hearing from you is cheering me up – am tired, doing too much before my mother is coming to spend the summer with us.