Pressed Between the Literary Pages as I Sleep and Dream

+  9 December 2009  +

“PR 232” (detail)

2009

I am very fortunate. In the waning days of 2009 a career ambition of mine came to realization.

On Wednesday, December 9, 2009 I had the opportunity to put on display at the San Mateo Public Library (SMPL) a selection of my pool drawings.

This opportunity is of tremendous importance to me for a few reasons. I have made, and continue to make numerous references to John Cheever short story "The Swimmer" when I speak about my drawings. I so often link that story to its influence on me and the drawings. In the same breath I speak of the concept of "journey".

In 2007, for example I transposed Cheever's story into a performance art piece. In the span of eight days I drove 1200+ miles to do 20 swims in 16 different pool between San Francisco and Los Angeles. I ended up swimming 24000+ yards in the process. A few drawings inspired by that trip are included in the library installation.

Obviously I wish to share with the community my skills as an artist and my perceptions of life in and around a swimming pool. In the art section of the library are monographs on Richard Diebenkorn, Philip Guston, David Hockney, Agnes Martin, Piet Mondrian, Ad Reinhardt and Minimalism. They too are a tremendous influence in my work. And to them I add to those authors who I mention in elsewhere in my blog. Everybody, I have come to join you.

Exhibiting a body of work with strong art and literary ties at a library works very well for me. The SMPL agreed to display alongside my drawings all of its available John Cheever books.

The Library staff and I are mutually and openly embracing the communal aspects of a swimming pool and a public library. And that spirit of "community" is what matters to me. Thus, I would like to take a moment to thank the SMPL staff for inviting me to exhibit my drawings and for their assistance. I would also like to thank them for the spirit of collaboration. For a number of years it has been an ambition of mine to exhibit my drawings at a library and that moment arrived on December 9, 2009. Patience is a virtue. 


The drawings are on display until February 8, 2010.

Living on an Expanded Dime

+  2 December 2009   +


The day is somewhere in between Thanksgiving Day and Christmas Day. Leftover homemade cranberry sauce still holds a presence in the refrigerator. But all other forms of recognizable Thanksgiving Day edibles are history. Culturally and mentally, we moved on to the next gig in life.


The day is also a day for a swim. I am at the pool where I provide lessons. The pool basks in the glory of the late autumn sun and in the company of the bright orange shade trees on the nearby lawn. The pool only seems to be in a state of neglect. Why? No one is around. But I am.


This is the second year in a row for me to do volunteer community service work on Christmas Day. And that is my legitimate excuse for the absence of mindful (and maybe mindless) shopping on my to-do list. If you knew me you would understand the how and the why of it all. As a consolation I go for a swim. So. Yes, obviously holiday shopping is not on my mind. Just swimming. Nothing more, nothing less. I swim for the health of the world. And mine too. In the meantime Christmas Day will take care of itself. Thus I relish the non-tinseled state of mind. I look in a different direction.


Back to the pool, no one is here except I. Physically I may be alone, but I don’t feel that way. It is late morning. The pool’s energy is invisible. As the pool’s sole inhabitant I mindfully own it. But reality says something different. What a mindset it is to have a 50 meter pool all to yourself. Once in the water my body moves. My eyes see without distraction the farthest reaches of the underwater pool environment. And my mind travels. Beyond the dimensions of 50 meters, what else lies beyond that which I can clearly see and know? The answers are wide open.


“Open up your mind” is what that 50 meter pool says to me. “OK. And may I take a few others along with me?” No traffic, no holiday carols, no cash registers, in fact its a no-nothing environment as I look underwater. The no-nothing environment is silent and its silence speaks volumes to me. The silence can also be deafening. And that is the sound of the pool’s quiet energy.


Straight as an arrow I swam my 2000 meters. Some moments my mind wandered and filled with expanded  “what if…” thoughts. And other moments my mind was self contained, focused and registered. I think its a manifestation of the efficiency of the streamlined position and stroke counting. And I know there was at least one “Ah-ha” moment. The combined power of swimming and water do all that to me all the time.


But wait, there is more that it does to me and does for me.

I can elaborate when I reach the opposite end of the swim, or the opposite end of the pool. But, by then I will not yet have realized that the pool carried me off to another destination. There is a slight pause and a “wow”.


I know, for I have been there before.

Thanksgiving 2009

+ 26 November 2009  +

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/26/opinion/26thur1.html

It Is Near 7am.

+  24 November 2009  +


It is 7am. Or almost. The air temperature for this time of the year is approximately 43°. The sun is shining, it is late November and a relatively nice day. There is steam rising from the pool.


I often say “my favorite time to swim is January mornings and it is raining”. 
January is six weeks away. But for now, I settle for a temperature in the low forties and the sun. The temperature of the water is certainly no more than twice that of the air. There is uncertainty here. What is the comfort level like in the water? For the inexperienced there is an unfair assumption. “It’s too cold for comfort.” For me, I don’t think about the comfort level. I just “do” it.

Here is the kicker: once you enter the water you do not want to leave. The water is an insular blanket (to me). The water, the pool and I converse with each other. The steam rises from the pool and I may not be able to see the opposite end of the pool. But who cares? One feels their way. The opposite end of this swim, this microcosmic road is out there. But it is the process, this journey that matters most to me. This process and its attached journey succeeds in engaging my mind and body to take on the day’s challenges. The steam evaporates just like negative thoughts and restlessness. Consequently, today’s distance swam and its set holds less significance.


For me an outdoor swim with an air temperature in the forties does not leave me in a state of discomfort. In fact I embrace the opportunity to swim outdoors. Add some rain and the air temperature decreases. I still embrace. Add some wind and the short walk across the pool after a morning swim may seem like eternity. “Walk, don’t run.” The embrace is still there. With wind and rain the embrace is mutually shared. In exchange, the layers of invigoration build upon themselves. The endorphins kick in. I feel ten feet tall. I feel symmetry. The frustrating maze of life seems temporarily dismantled. Does this swim feel better than having won the lottery? Does this swim feel better than love making? This is what it feels like at this hour of the day after a swim. I have been here before many times. So what else is new?


Rain or shine, it is all a bit of a mindset.

Déjà vu

+  20 November 2009  +

This morning’s swim quickly took me back to that place and time in 2001 when the swimming drawings came into existence. Then, as was the case at 6:30 this morning under threatening skies I found myself responding to the minimalist environment of the pool. The tiles, the grid, the lane markers, all of the pool’s features exist on a quadrilateral grid. To look underwater towards the deep end of the pool I could see infinity as those darkened bands of tiles receeded into the distant, darker, deepest parts of the pool.

A confluence of eight years of incubating images accumulated inside my head. Curiosity, skill and the desire to visually record that which I saw and felt during a typical visit to the pool opened the door for the drawings’ emergence. Gradually those images began to see the light of day. In eight years’ time what has changed?

This pool, The Burlingame Aquatic Center in 2001 became my re-introduction to the world of Agnes Martin and Sol LeWitt and Minimalism.