3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 36

There is no pulse so sure of the state of a nation as its characteristic art product which has nothing to do with its material life.

Gertrude Stein.

Heart-shaped flora (I carry your heart with me)

May be this one grew to make a boutonnière.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

e.e. cummings, "I carry your heart with me".

The boiling eye

A god in wrath
Was beating a man;
He cuffed him loudly
With thunderous blows
That rang and rolled over the earth.
All people came running.
The man screamed and struggled,
And bit madly at the feet of the god.
The people cried,
"Ah, what a wicked man!"
And --
"Ah, what a redoubtable god!"

Stephen Maria Crane, "A god in wrath".

Pinwheel

The smells of coffee awaken me
after a night of dim dreams and wild love.
I listen to the busy boulevard
and the frogs of ripening spring.
I need something new to know.

change the peptides: “Don't Worry. Be happy.”

Jampa Dorje, "Pinwheels".

3D Genetic Algorithms - Brain Flowering

Pinky: And now, the parts of the brain, performed by The Brain!
Brain: Ye-e-s!

Brain: Neo-cortex, frontal lobe
Pinky: Brainstem! Brainstem!
Brain: Hippocampus, neural node
Right hemisphere.

Brain: Pons and cortex visual
Pinky: Brainstem! Brainstem!
Brain: Sylvian fissure, pineal
Left hemisphere.

Brain: Cerebellum left!
Cerebellum right!
Synapse, hypothalamus
Striatum, dendrite.

Brain: Axon fibers, matter gray
Pinky: Brainstem! Brainstem!
Brain: Central tegmental pathway
Temporal lobe.

Brain: White core matter, forebrain, skull
Pinky: Brainstem! Brainstem!
Brain: Central fissure, cord spinal
Parietal.

Brain: Pia mater!
Menengeal vein!
Medulla oblongata and lobe limbic
Micro-electrodes...
Pinky: Naaarf!
P+B : THE BRAIN!!!

Brain: That ought to keep the little squirts happy. Ye-e-s!

"Brain Stem", as sung by Pinky and the Brain from Animaniacs.

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 35

"I have done that", says my memory. "I cannot have done that" — says my pride, and remains adamant. At last — memory yields.

Friedrich Nietzche, "Beyond good and evil".

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 34

If you seek just a little truth, as most, you should not ignore abstract forms, the basis from which all short-lived experiences we call reality springs.

Eugene J. Martin, on Direct Art Magazine.

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 33

Can someone eat the fruit that comes from the tree of action that grows from the seeds of your mind?

Eugene J. Martin.

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 32

Beware of thinkers whose minds function only when they are fueled by a quotation.

Emile Cioran, "Anathemas and Admirations".

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 31

roots of a large summer tree
on a rock
extend in all directions.

Kyoshi Takahama.

3D Genetic Algorithm's - Abstract Nº 30

[...]

One day you want to cover

the arch of the sky
the way a raven does,
the way a finger can.
Then you are reduced to an itch
that moves around your chest.
Today you are your soul,
a misprint in a book
no one will open anymore.
You shout at the ears of God,
but they are sewn shut
with a silk thread
that leads to a tired heart.

The day leaned against
the door for a while,
then on your hand,
and it was gone.
This sky has been watching
you, going off to work,
coming home, not strong,
nor tired, nor anything.
It listened to your arguments
patiently, bored, or deaf,
a blackened orange
suspended
in the frozen air.

The first stars appear,
and you are their shepherd
leading them to the troughs
of the coming dawn.
You are leaving home,
clumps of dirt
under your shoes.
The geranium
that exploded this morning
in a burst of laughter
goes away quietly too
under a dry climate
of stars.

Ernesto Trejo, "The arch of the sky dream".

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 29

Heart went to find Paramatma (God) and finished there and caught, and caught for sure. As you send a sculpture of salt in ocean to measure. Or say to this sculpture "Go and measure!" That, "How deep is the ocean?", "What is the depth?" So that sculpture can easily go but it will not come back. There is no difficulty to go but there is difficulty to come back. As it goes to the ocean it dissolves. Who will come back when the seeker experiences how/how much is Paramatma? How is it possible for the soul to listen or speak of Paramatma, if Paramatma has not been seen?

Swami Brahmananda Saraswati.

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstracts Nº 26 & 27

Weird coincidences and errors: The objects are projecting a shadow over the scenery, and the only differences between the two images are the textures and the fractal water. Never got two so similar before.

Reason respects the differences, and imagination the similitudes of things.

Percy Bysshe Shelley, "A defence of Poetry".

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 25

I wanted to call this one a "Hurty", for Will Doohan and his thoughts on lenguage; it was born right out of a Blogger's Word Verification of the same name.

And each particular hair to stand on end,
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine.

William Shakespeare, "Hamlet".

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 24

From tomorrow on, I'll take some days vacation. There are some other posts scheduled until I come back.

This is my own favourite 3D, but after Solar Being. The moss over the mirror-like surface was a surprise.

[...]

Deep hidden in delicious floss
It nestles, sister, from the heat —
A gracious growth of tender moss
Whose nights are soft, whose days are sweet.

[...]

Henry Kendall, "Moss on a wall".

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 17

Empire is emerging today as the center that supports the globalization of productive networks and casts its widely inclusive net to try to envelop all power relations within its world order—and yet at the same time it deploys a powerful police function against the new barbarians and the rebellious slaves who threaten its order.

Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri, "Empire".

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 16

"Look!" cried out Bull clamorously, "the balloon is coming down!"
There was no need to cry out to Syme, who had never taken his eyes off it. He saw the great luminous globe suddenly stagger in the sky, right itself, and then sink slowly behind the trees like a setting sun.
The man called Gogol, who had hardly spoken through all their weary travels, suddenly threw up his hands like a lost spirit.
"He is dead!" he cried. "And now I know he was my friend--my friend in the dark!"
"Dead!" snorted the Secretary. "You will not find him dead easily. If he has been tipped out of the car, we shall find him rolling as a colt rolls in a field, kicking his legs for fun."
"Clashing his hoofs," said the Professor. "The colts do, and so did Pan."
"Pan again!" said Dr. Bull irritably. "You seem to think Pan is everything."
"So he is," said the Professor, "in Greek. He means everything."
"Don't forget," said the Secretary, looking down, "that he also means Panic."

Gilbert Keith Chesterton, "The man who was Thursday".

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 14

Man is born free, and everywhere he is in shackles.

Jean-Jacques Rousseau, "The social contract".

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 13

The wonder is, not that the field of stars is so vast, but that man has measured it.

Anatole France, "The garden of Epicurus".

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 12

Computers are useless. They can only give you answers.

Pablo Picasso.

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 11

You have a hardware or a software problem.

Service manual for Gestetner 3240

3D Genetic Algorithms - Abstract Nº 10

One of my first attempts, the tenth to be precise. I don't like it to be floating.

Tiger got to hunt,
Bird got to fly;
Man got to sit and wonder, "Why, why, why?"

Tiger got to sleep,
Bird got to land;
Man got to tell himself he understand.

Kurt Vonnegut, "Cat's cradle".

Sun of the homeland

Happy birthday to my friend Amber.
Today is our independence day in Argentina. In our flag we have the "sun of may", it is a symbol of our revolutionary stage back in 1810, our flag colours are white, light blue and the yellow sun, of course.
We have a very complicated time since our last president was elected, a mixture of conventional thinking, pettiness and greed is dragging us down, and I'm too sad about the issue to focus on it right now. I prefer the symbol of the sun, created by one of our fundation fathers, I prefer to remember the 19th century argentinian marines who fought and boarded english ships that were trading slaves to the US, for returning them to Africa (and were treated as pirates by the empire in a very unknown part of our history), I prefer to just shut up about this stressing stage we are going through right now in the country, and just post the complete version of our national anthem, pretty unknown even for ourselves, too used now to the less revolutionary -and comfortable- reduced version.

Mortals! Hear the sacred cry:

Freedom, freedom, freedom!
Hear the noise of broken chains,
see noble Equality enthroned.
Rises to the heights of the Earth
a new and glorious nation,
its head crowned with laurels,
and at her feet lying a Lion.

Chorus:
May the laurels be eternal,
that we knew how to win.
Let us live crowned with glory...
or swear to die gloriously.

From the new Champions their faces
Mars himself seems to encourage
Greatness nestles in their bodies:
at their march they make everything tremble.
The dead Inca are shaken,
and in their bones the ardour revives
which renews their children
of the Motherland the ancient splendour.

Mountain ranges and walls are felt
to resound with horrible din:
the whole country is disturbed by cries
of revenge, of war and rage.
In the fiery tyrants the envy
spit the pestipherous bile;
their bloody standard they rise
provoking the most cruel combat.

Don't you see them over Mexico and Quito
throwing themselves with tenacious viciousness?
And who they cry, bathed in blood,
Potosí, Cochabamba and La Paz?
Don't you see them over sad Caracas
spreading mourning and weeping?
Don't you see them devouring as wild animals
all people who surrender to them?

To you it dares, Argentinians,
the pride of the vile invader;
your fields it steps on, retelling
so many glories as winner.
But the brave ones, that united swore
their merry freedom to sustain,
to those blood-thirsty tigers
bold breasts they will know to oppose.

The valiant Argentinian to arms
runs burning with determination and bravery,
the war bugler, as thunder,
in the fields of the South resounds.
Buenos Ayres opposes, leading
the people of the illustrious Union,
and with robust arms they tear
the arrogant Iberian lion.

San José, San Lorenzo, Suipacha,
both Piedras, Salta and Tucumán,
La Colonia and the same walls
of the tyrant in the Banda Oriental.
They are eternal signboards they say:
here the Argentinian arm found triumph,
here the fierce oppressor of the Motherland
his proud cervix bent.

Victory to the Argentine warrior
covered with its brilliant wings,
and embarrassed at this view the tyrant
with infamy took to flight.
Its flags, its arms surrender
as trophies to freedom,
and above wings of glory the people rise
the worthy throne of their great majesty.

From one pole to the other resounds
the fame of the sonorous bugler,
and of America the name showing
they repeat "Mortals, hear:
The United Provinces of the South
have now displayed their most honorable throne".
And the free people of the world reply:
"We salute the great people of Argentina!"

Chorus:
May the laurels be eternal,
that we knew how to win.
Let us live crowned with glory...
or swear to die gloriously!

Vicente López y Planes, "Argentinian national anthem" (complete version).

Clover of hearts

The clover, to my mind, is a symbol of simplicity, but not the dull simplicity -that is nothing- but the complex simplicity achieved by attaching to what is truly important in life, to what make us happy. So this is sort of an offering for the people I love, a way to say to them (on this hectic time I'm going through) how good it does to me to love them.
I had to take the poem from my talented friend Russ Loar, no other could fit the concept this well.

If you have to make an offering, offer not your money but your defects [if you are allowed to, that is], so that you are redeemed and made whole.

Swami Brahmananda Saraswati.

So worried,
About money,
About accomplishment,
About failure.

So overwhelmed,
By work,
By family,
By modern life.

Sometimes,
Late at night,
Early in the morning,
In the middle of the day,
You wonder who you are,
Why your life turned out this way,
So uneventful.

Love,
Love is all you have left,
Mad unrestrained love,
For your family,
For movie stars,
For your friends,
For total strangers,
For babies,
For dogs and cats and birds
And all living things,
Every tree and flower,
For even the sky-darkening clouds
And the rain,
The individual drops of rain
That fall on your cheek
Like tears of forgiveness,
And you realize
You are forgiven,
All is forgiven
Because you love,
And that is enough.

Russ Allison Loar, "Because you love".

Abstract Nº89 (Or "The Library")

The universe (which others call the Library) is composed of an indefinite and perhaps infinite number of hexagonal galleries, with vast air shafts between, surrounded by very low railings. From any of the hexagons one can see, interminably, the upper and lower floors. The distribution of the galleries is invariable. Twenty shelves, five long shelves per side, cover all the sides except two; their height, which is the distance from floor to ceiling, scarcely exceeds that of a normal bookcase. One of the free sides leads to a narrow hallway which opens onto another gallery, identical to the first and to all the rest. To the left and right of the hallway there are two very small closets. In the first, one may sleep standing up; in the other, satisfy one's fecal necessities. Also through here passes a spiral stairway, which sinks abysmally and soars upwards to remote distances. In the hallway there is a mirror which faithfully duplicates all appearances. Men usually infer from this mirror that the Library is not infinite (if it were, why this illusory duplication?); I prefer to dream that its polished surfaces represent and promise the infinite ... Light is provided by some spherical fruit which bear the name of lamps. There are two, transversally placed, in each hexagon. The light they emit is insufficient, incessant.

Jorge Luis Borges, "The Library of Babel".

3D L-Systems - Image Nº 10

[...]
Darkness is the veiled bride
silently waiting for the errant light
to return to her bosom.

Trees are the earth's endless effort to
speak to the listening heaven.

The burden of self is lightened
when I laugh at myself.

The weak can be terrible
because they try furiously to appear strong.
[...]

Rabindranath Tagore, "Fireflies".

3D L-Systems - Image Nº 2

In the spiritual realm nothing is indifferent: what is not useful is harmful.

Leo Tolstoy, "A letter to a hindu".

Abstract Nº88

In my youth I stressed freedom, and in my old age I stress order. I have made the great discovery that liberty is a product of order.

William James Durant.

3D (Genetic algorithms) - Abstract Nº23

If we don't believe in free expression for people we despise, we don't believe in it at all.

Noam Chomsky, interviewed in BBC's "The Late Show".

Abstract Nº87

"Listen to me," cried Syme with extraordinary emphasis. "Shall I tell you the secret of the whole world? It is that we have only known the back of the world. We see everything from behind, and it looks brutal. That is not a tree, but the back of a tree. That is not a cloud, but the back of a cloud. Cannot you see that everything is stooping and hiding a face? If we could only get round in front--"

G. K. Chesterton, "The man who was Thursday".

3D (genetic algorithms) - Abstract Nº22

Without tradition, art is a flock of sheep without a shepherd. Without innovation, it is a corpse.

John Cheever, "The Stories of John Cheever Knopf".