Thursday, October 17, 2013
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Smaller is Larger
With a background in structure, I am drawn occasionally again to fractal designs -- especially when color is involved. Our first created ones were yellow dots on black background which took overnight to run (gone are the days of slow computers and Dos commands). Mathematical-digital drawing has been carried to such an extreme now that it is hard to see the natural self-similarity of the designs and I am not convinced that many are true fractals; but I donot pretend to grasp all of the edges of this stuff.
This presentation is a nice history with current developments
It is thought that organic development of natural live structures: trees, branches, leaves and roots ; and the geologic structures: craggy mountains, seashore outlines from above, and lakeshores moved by wave action,
may be influenced by the fractal development, which is the larger is just a reproduction of the smaller, grown.
Here is a better example. This is s a closeup of some kind of mold development. Ugh, probably looks better smaller.!
Another rendering:
Saturday, July 20, 2013
Oasis
Herein lived the past , and now the future
Over the years people showed up, left things:
a comment - observations that stayed,
paintings, photographs, poems, snapshots of life somewhere somewhen
a card game, a tune or two, or a thought (mostly thoughts), flowers, dusty books,
and apparently seeds to future life
Some lives ended too soon, life too much a burden --- maybe next time.
and there were secrets . . . . there are always secrets
pretty soon people stopped coming
they were already there in spirit and memory
shifting time ~~~
the place became silent as a spring and life passed on to another form --
maybe where the past is kept somehow preserved (how revealed I don't know)
Sarah rests in trees 1864
Saturday, June 8, 2013
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Freedom
"..I arrive from beneath roots of carnivorous trees,
And my mind is still filled -with the fearful cries of dried butterflies-
under weighty volumes of pale, aged books.
When my trust was hung-
from the frail justice line of this town,
And in the streets, they were cutting off the head of my torch,
When they blind-folded the innocent eyes of my love,
When fresh blood erupted from all veins of my shaking dreams,
And when my life was nothing-
but the regular chant of a Grandfather clock,
I realized that I had to love,
I had to love madly. ... "
Excerpted from "Windows" by Iranian poet Forough Farrokhzad
(1935-1967)
There are various translations of this poem from the original Persian writings and various interpretations of the words and intents. Translations are tricky, as anyone trying to interpret Aramaic into English (for the Bible) would probably attest.
My contribution to poetry month, this April.
http://www.forughfarrokhzad.org/collectedworks/collectedworks4.htm
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Interfaces
I am not sure what it is about images showing activity to no obvious intent or result, needing some sort of explaination. Posing for imaginary purpose known only to they who put it together. Open to interpretation, or needing no interpretation at all ,maybe.
Playing violin on the light? No need for metaphor, just a happening; you would do the same were you her, and could play violin.
Solar Music by Remidios Varo Spanish surrealist.
1908-1963
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