The Blue Flower

I knew I had to redo the blue flower of Novalis (my utterly beloved Novalis!), the previous attempts of the past year (1 & 2) sucked big time, were never worthy of the symbol. This time it is definitive; but the image only works in full size.

I'll not bore you with the hard work it took, or my exhaustion, but only say that the computer work is less and less everyday, and the human work is more everyday; the "interactive" part, in "interactive genetic algorithms" is the most compromised here lately. The more you look for something in particular, the less you should trust fate; also the symbol of this image means exactly that; interesting.

Well, it is amazing to have a literature buddy :-) It inspires me the best ideas and inspires me to work hard just for the pleasure of it, the possibility of beauty arising, constantly pushing the Dharma wheel, the relentless quest for truth. My darling Megan, without knowing, pushed this through.

If you have never read the unfinished novel "Heinrich von Ofterdingen" and didn't clicked on the wikipedia link, the blue flower that Novalis thought is "a central symbol of Romanticism. It stands for desire, love, and the metaphysical striving for the infinite and unreachable." With enough luck, this image of blue petals and a starry night, can get close to symbolize that, and if you see it full-size and get close to this dark image, will see the tiny little divine stars, reflected like nightly dew on the petals.

"The flower" (previous post) becomes now the infinite divine flower, an interrogation of life, love, motivations, experience, purpose and infinity.
Incidentally enough, my town these days is populated with blue morning glories, and they seem to capture the sun within them, like the one to whom this image is made for:
It is yours, Bronwyn; and the quotes below.

"It's not the treasures I care about" he said to himself "such coveting is miles from my mind, but I long to see the blue flower. I cant get rid of the idea, it haunts me. I never felt like this before, its as if I dreamed of it years ago, or had a vision of it in another world, for who would be so concerned about a flower in this world? and I've never heard of anyone being in love with a flower. Where did this stranger come from? None of us had ever seen anyone like him. I don't know why his words impacted on me so deeply, the others heard him, and they didn't produce the same effect on their minds. I cant even express the strange state I'm in. Sometimes rapt in delight... but when I forget about the blue flower, a nameless longing takes possession of me, no one can understand this. I'd think I was mad, if it were not for the fact that my thoughts are so clear and connected, and I understand so many new things. I've heard it said that in the olden days, animals, rocks, and flowers all spoke to humans. I'm haunted by the idea that they have something to tell me, and I feel as if I could comprehend their speech. I used to be devoted to dancing, now I love music."

[...]

Deep in this gem do mystic letters glow
Deep in my heart a hidden love does grow
From one there rises sparks of unknown fire
The other is consumed with loves desire
In one the glorious light is buried deep
The other will loves impress ever keep

[...]

Is not the yearning in me the same as in the dream, at the sight of the blue flower? What is the strange connection between Matilda and the flower? The face which I saw in the calyx was Matilda's, and I also remember seeing it in the hermit's book. But why did it not move my heart then. Oh she is the visible spirit of song, and a worthy daughter of her father. She will dissolve me in her music and become my innermost soul, and the keeper of my holy fire. I feel an eternal loyalty in me. I was born only to honour her, to serve her eternally, to think and to feel her. Doesn't an undivided existence belong with such a vision and adoration? And may I be blessed to be the one chosen to be her echo, and the mirror of her being. It was no chance there was a feast at the end of my journey, and the blessed feast surrounded the supreme moment of my life. It could not be different, her very presence makes everything festive.

[...]

With full rapture Heinrich called out 'O eternal stars, you silent wanderers, I call you to witness my hallowed oath. I want to live for Matilda, and eternal faith should bind my heart to hers. This is the beginning of a new eternal day for me. The night is over. I ignite the ascending sun as a sacrificial fire.'

Novalis, "Heinrich von Ofterdingen".