Holy brightness

I've changed the license of all the works posted here to one less restrictive, because myself I'm less restrictive, it doesn't have any sense keeping that old one, so now they are licensed to anyone to be able to copy, distribute, transmit and adapt any of these images to their own work and taste. It was incoherent not allowing remixing and adapting of my genetic algorithms images, when that is exactly what we do with genetic algorithms, to adapt and remix our own or other's people images; so well, now anyone is free to modify any image found here, inside the same CC 3.0 license.
No-one should be restricted in its creative impulse.
The exact legal boring legal code, is on the right panel now, anyway.




This image, "Holy brightness", I suspect is one halo, and one forehead... the eyes cannot be seen by mere mortals. :-)
Recently, on a re-read of La cifra, from Jorge Luis Borges, I've found, or rediscovered (thanks to J.) one really powerful, beautiful little poem; little, yes, why not :-) which speaks with tremors and directness also, about the beauty of life, of what is good and bad, and some truths about the human spirit; all with focus in the relationship of the poet with its guardian angel.

I must say, translating Borges poetry it is very much like ruining big part of it. So I'll not do the hedious task here, I already tried with his prose in another post here. In these cases is when the proudest I am of my native language; like everyone is, through the value of its favourite and best writers, surely.

El Ángel

Que el hombre no sea indigno del Ángel
cuya espada lo guarda
desde que lo engendró aquel Amor
que mueve el sol y las estrellas
hasta el último día en que retumbe
el trueno de la trompeta.
Que no lo arrastre a rojos lupanares
ni a los palacios que erigió la soberbia
ni a las tabernas insensatas.
Que no se rebaje a la súplica
ni al oprobio del llanto
ni a la fabulosa esperanza
ni a las pequeñas magias del miedo
ni al simulacro del histrión;
el Otro lo mira.
Que recuerde que nunca estará solo.
En el público día o en la sombra
el incesante espejo lo atestigua;
que no macule su cristal una lágrima.

Señor, que al cabo de mis días en la Tierra
yo no deshonre al Ángel.

J.L. Borges, El Ángel (from La cifra, book translated to english as "The Limit" and/or "The Cypher").