Sunday, December 27, 2009

Move on up!

Move on up (as in the Curtis Mayfield song). Sporadic creative outbursts had temporarily moved over Scenawry and, eventually, Frogtal.

If you wanna see some movement here, must wait, or hit the links for now and see something different. Excuse that, if needed.

My abilities on digital art are limited (plus enclosed into math and heroically rejecting hand-made art), so regularly they need a refreshment of the code (if possible), of the concept (if any), or the vision. I'm on it, but also on enjoying the extreme heat and the summer, my favorite season. I can't hide the obvious: I'm putting less effort everyday, and everyday feeling more mediocre; but it's all my fault, because I dedicate less and less time to the part that gives name to this blog. I expect a slight change on February, or luck, or providence to throw a bone --the latter sounds realistic. However: plans are weak for this frog, so February is foggy too, as I'm froggy. If you were truly intelligent wouldn't trust my promises… that's something that I always frogget to mention to my girlfriends too. Sad.

C.

P.S.: Have this one for now, 3D abstract #113. And may your start of the year be grand, while I look for any possible direction.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Punch bowl

Automated Post:

Merry Christmas!!!
Fill up the punch bowl, drink up and celebrate. And if you have no punch bowl, fill up your heart, drink up from it, and celebrate with it!
That's the wish from your closest frog.
Cheers.



[...]

This ancient silver bowl of mine, it tells of good old times,
Of joyous days and jolly nights, and merry Christmas times;
They were a free and jovial race, but honest, brave, and true,
Who dipped their ladle in the punch when this old bowl was new.

[...]

Oliver Wendell Holmes, "On lending a punch-bowl".

Friday, December 18, 2009

2D Abstract #118



There was a man who lived a life of fire.
Even upon the fabric of time,
Where purple becomes orange
And orange purple,
This life glowed,
A dire red stain, indelible;
Yet when he was dead,
He saw that he had not lived.


Stephen Maria Crane, "There was a man who lived a life of fire".

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Genetic Algorithms - 3D Abstract #112



A caterpillar,
this deep in fall—
still not a butterfly.


Matsuo Bashō.

Friday, December 11, 2009

Genetic Algorithms - 3D Abstract #111



You came from the Aztecs
With a copper on your fore-arms
Tawnier than a sunset
Saying good-by to an even river.

And I said, you remember,
Those fore-arms of yours
Were finer than bronzes
And you were glad.

It was tears
And a path west
and a home-going
when I asked
Why there were scars of worn gold
Where a man's ring was fixed once
On your third finger.
And I call you
To come back
before the days are longer.


Carl Sandburg, "Aztec".

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Human Rights Day

Waves of rippling colours for this Human Rights Day 2009.



I have been thinking of the difference between water
and the waves on it. Rising,
water's still water, falling back,
it is water, will you give me a hint
how to tell them apart?

Because someone has made up the word
"wave," do I have to distinguish it
from water?

There is a Secret One inside us;
the planets in all the galaxies
pass through his hands like beads.

That is a string of beads one should look at with luminous eyes.


Kabir (written in 1440).

Tuesday, December 08, 2009

Genetic Algorithms - 3D Abstract #110



To the despisers of the body will I speak my word. I wish them neither to learn afresh, nor teach anew, but only to bid farewell to their own bodies,- and thus be dumb.
"Body am I, and soul"- so saith the child. And why should one not speak like children?
But the awakened one, the knowing one, saith: "Body am I entirely, and nothing more; and soul is only the name of something in the body."
The body is a big sagacity, a plurality with one sense, a war and a peace, a flock and a shepherd.


Friedrich Nietzsche, "Thus spake Zarathustra".

Saturday, December 05, 2009

Mandala #21 and #22

Katie was the only admirer of this series of very simplified mandalas, which ends with this two lotus-shaped figures.

I found this poem whole, perfect for this moment. I've told several times to the author, Russ Loar, that he's the only alive poet that I've found worth reading. Won't keep to myself something that I think is miraculous.

There is a home in my heart
For each person I love,
Whether they love me,
Or not.

They’re all I’ve got.


Russ Loar, "A home in my heart".



Wednesday, December 02, 2009

Manifesto in Defense of Fundamental Rights on the Internet

This comes from Spain, a country appalled in its internet rights, and I think it has extension and value worldwide:

A group of journalists, bloggers, professionals and creators want to express their firm opposition to the inclusion in a Draft Law of some changes to Spanish laws restricting the freedoms of expression, information and access to culture on the Internet. They also declare that:

1 .- Copyright should not be placed above citizens’ fundamental rights to privacy, security, presumption of innocence, effective judicial protection and freedom of expression.

2 .- Suspension of fundamental rights is and must remain an exclusive competence of judges. This blueprint, contrary to the provisions of Article 20.5 of the Spanish Constitution, places in the hands of the executive the power to keep Spanish citizens from accessing certain websites.

3 .- The proposed laws would create legal uncertainty across Spanish IT companies, damaging one of the few areas of development and future of our economy, hindering the creation of startups, introducing barriers to competition and slowing down its international projection.

4 .- The proposed laws threaten creativity and hinder cultural development. The Internet and new technologies have democratized the creation and publication of all types of content, which no longer depends on an old small industry but on multiple and different sources.

5 .- Authors, like all workers, are entitled to live out of their creative ideas, business models and activities linked to their creations. Trying to hold an obsolete industry with legislative changes is neither fair nor realistic. If their business model was based on controlling copies of any creation and this is not possible any more on the Internet, they should look for a new business model.

6 .- We believe that cultural industries need modern, effective, credible and affordable alternatives to survive. They also need to adapt to new social practices.

7 .- The Internet should be free and not have any interference from groups that seek to perpetuate obsolete business models and stop the free flow of human knowledge.

8 .- We ask the Government to guarantee net neutrality in Spain, as it will act as a framework in which a sustainable economy may develop.

9 .- We propose a real reform of intellectual property rights in order to ensure a society of knowledge, promote the public domain and limit abuses from copyright organizations.

10 .- In a democracy, laws and their amendments should only be adopted after a timely public debate and consultation with all involved parties. Legislative changes affecting fundamental rights can only be made in a Constitutional law.

Note: This manifesto is the work of several authors, and the property of everyone. Copy it, publish it, pass it on as you will.

Friday, November 27, 2009

2D Abstract #116

I commonly never tell that I utterly love every song from this album; so much that I keep it secret and very mine, because it's an intimate pleasure anyway. This time I say it only for once. It's so widely beautiful in its sad and joyful expression altogether; and I'm only pushed to do it now to do company, less to the image, than to the fact that I've been laughing of joy and crying of sadness, both at the same puzzling and beautiful time; and the aesthetics of this song goes with the beauty of that. A few times this had happened before, to let me know that I'm living a remarkable milestone in my life.
Give yourself four minutes and play the song here:





It's up in the morning and on the downs
Little white clouds like gambolling lambs
And I am breathless over you

And the red-breasted robin beats his wings
His throat it trembles when he sings
For he is helpless before you

The happy hooded bluebells bow
And bend their heads all a-down
Heaved by the early morning dew

At the whispering stream, at the bubbling brook
The fishes leap up to take a look
For they are breathless over you

Still your hands
And still your heart
For still your face comes shining through
And all the morning glows anew

Still your mind
Still your soul
For still, the fare of love is true
And I am breathless without you

The wind circles among the trees
And it bangs about the new-made leaves
For it is breathless without you

The fox chases the rabbit round
The rabbit hides beneath the ground
For he is defenseless without you

The sky of daytime dies away
And all the earthly things they stop to play
For we are all breathless without you

I listen to my juddering bones
The blood in my veins and the wind in my lungs
And I am breathless without you

Still your hands
And still your heart
For still your face comes shining through
And all the morning glows anew

Still your soul
Still your mind
Still, the fire of love is true
And I am breathless without you


Nick Cave, "Breathless".

Monday, November 16, 2009

Genetic Algorithms - 3D Abstract #109

The sea awoke at midnight from its sleep,
And round the pebbly beaches far and wide
I heard the first wave of the rising tide
Rush onward with uninterrupted sweep;
A voice out of the silence of the deep,
A sound mysteriously multiplied
As of a cataract from the mountain's side,
Or roar of winds upon a wooded steep.
So comes to us at times, from the unknown
And inaccessible solitudes of being,
The rushing of the sea-tides of the soul;
And inspirations, that we deem our own,
Are some divine foreshadowing and foreseeing
Of things beyond our reason or control.


H. W. Longfellow, "The sound of the sea".


Friday, November 13, 2009

2D Abstract #115



I know that the day will come
when my sight of this earth shall be lost,
and life will take its leave in silence,
drawing the last curtain over my eyes.

Yet stars will watch at night,
and morning rise as before,
and hours heave like sea waves casting up pleasures and pains.

When I think of this end of my moments,
the barrier of the moments breaks
and I see by the light of death
thy world with its careless treasures.
Rare is its lowliest seat,
rare is its meanest of lives.

Things that I longed for in vain
and things that I got
——let them pass.
Let me but truly possess
the things that I ever spurned
and overlooked.


Rabindranath Tagore, "Last curtain".

Monday, November 09, 2009

Mandala #20 (A great day for Freedom)

To the sweet memory I have of the day when the wall in Berlin came down. Twenty years from today. What a day.
Play the song and rejoice in the memory, before thinking we have some other ones to take care of, as in Israel and the mexican border.





On the day the wall came down
They threw the locks onto the ground
And with glasses high we raised a cry for freedom had arrived
On the day the wall came down
The Ship of Fools had finally ran aground
Promises lit up the night like paper doves in flight

I dreamed you had left my side
No warmth, not even pride remained
And even though you needed me
It was clear that I could not do a thing for you

Now life devalues day by day
As friends and neighbors turn away
And there's a change that, even with regret, cannot be undone
Now frontiers shift like desert sands
While nations wash their bloodied hands
Of loyalty, of history, in shades of grey

I woke to the sound of drums
The music played, the morning sun streamed in
I turned and I looked at you
And all but the bitter residues slipped away... slipped away


Pink Floyd, "A great day for Freedom".

Sunday, November 08, 2009

Genetic Algorithms - 3D Abstract #108

To Will Duffy.
This is the best I could do working with cubes, and had to tamper with the lights, reflections and background to be able to like it. This is a representation of the shape of my brain when I don't want to understand, see? Thinking "inside the box". Square. :-)



You take a piece of stone
chisel it with blood,
grind it with Homer’s eye,
burnish it with beams
until the cube comes out perfect.

Next you endlessly kiss the cube
with your mouth, with others’ mouths,
and, most important, with infanta’s mouth.
Then you take a hammer
and suddenly knock a corner off.

All, indeed absolutely all will say
what a perfect cube this would have been
if not for the broken corner


Nichita Stanescu, "A lecture on the cube".

Friday, November 06, 2009

Mandala #19

To the memory of the moment when I had a poem dedicated to me, by Russ Loar. Below.




for Cristian

1. Love Is Easy

Unlike philosophy,
Love is easy,
Actual.
You wake up each morning
And joy fills your heart
Because someone you love will say,
“I love you,”
Before the day is through,
And you will hold each other close
In a moment of eternity.


2. Love Is Hard

Unlike philosophy,
Love is hard,
Actual.
You wake up each morning
And pain fills your heart
Because someone you love has said,
“I don’t love you,”
And all day long
You will feel wounded and empty,
Hoping it won’t last forever.


3. Love Is Mysterious

Unlike philosophy,
Love is mysterious,
Ethereal.
You wake up each morning
And both joy and pain fill your heart
Because you ache to say,
“I love you,”
If only you could find someone
Before the end of another lonely day
And see the dream awaken.


Russ Loar, "Love is not philosophy".

Tuesday, November 03, 2009

Species of the dark #13

A return to a reading of my teenage years, when I was deeply concerned about the hurting of wars; like now, but, well...



[...]
Oh blood and thunder! and oh blood and wounds!
These are but vulgar oaths, as you may deem,
Too gentle reader! and most shocking sounds:
And so they are; yet thus is Glory's dream
Unriddled, and as my true Muse expounds
At present such things, since they are her theme,
So be they her inspirers! Call them Mars,
Bellona, what you will--they mean but wars.

All was prepared--the fire, the sword, the men
To wield them in their terrible array.
The army, like a lion from his den,
March'd forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay,--
A human Hydra, issuing from its fen
To breathe destruction on its winding way,
Whose heads were heroes, which cut off in vain
Immediately in others grew again.

History can only take things in the gross;
But could we know them in detail, perchance
In balancing the profit and the loss,
War's merit it by no means might enhance,
To waste so much gold for a little dross,
As hath been done, mere conquest to advance.
The drying up a single tear has more
Of honest fame, than shedding seas of gore.
[...]


Lord Byron, "Don Juan" (VIII)

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Mandala #18

On the memory of a sweet afternoon, when I watched the sea at Coney Island, and my gratefulness to Catalina.
The fitting song is by Death Cab for Cutie.



Sitting on a carousel ride without any music or light
Everything was closed at Coney Island
And I could not help from smiling

I can hear the Atlantic echo back
Roller coaster screams from summers past
And everything was closed at Coney Island
And I could not help from smiling

Brooklyn will fill in the beach eventually
And everyone will go except me


Death Cab for Cutie, "Coney Island". Play the song with this widget:

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

2D Abstract #114

Whatever; blah, blah. Insert text here. Continuing in any possible way.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Stolen again

The yearly custom of breaking into my house and stealing everything from me is back. This time I WON'T delay my posts a single minute due to this. I don't know why, but it's a matter of pride somehow now.
The images will keep flowing and my way of flowing through life must be improved by complications like this one.
So this post was made to be unimportant very soon, like all that was stolen. Lucky for me, no present or anything close to my heart was taken, but just stuff, and a bit of work and images.
DaFrog Schwarzenegger says I'll -Be -Back ...rrright away.
I love all my admirable and friendly visitors, no matter wether I know how to express it or not.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Genetic Algorithms - 3D abstract #107

A little image for a minimalistic and lovely song in a teenage style, by The Arrogants, in a meteoric rising to the number one of the Frog Billboard; the most played on every amphibious iPod.



do you love me, do you need me, do you want me when i'm not there
do you miss me, are you ever thinking of me, do you want me when i'm not there

i open the door and i see your face drop, you think so much and love so little
it's just like before, maybe i've seen your love stop, one too many times

do you love me, do you need me, do you want me when i'm not there
do you miss me, are you ever thinking of me, do you want me when i'm not there

s'always something new, can't you just forgive me
laugh at my flaws and find me charming, we don't need to talk, just shut up and kiss me

do you love me, do you need me, do you want me when i'm not there
do you miss me, are you ever thinking of me, do you want me when i'm not there

do you love me, do you need me, do you miss me

i spent my whole life thinking of you, never mind what i intended to do, waited my whole life just for you
now i don't know where to find you, the distance between us hides you


The Arrogants, "The distance between us". Play the song with this widget:

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Happy birthday, Anita López!

Happy birthday, Miss Anita López! There's a message from the organization for you one click away.

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Holy Fractal Lord of the Amphibians!

A new blog has evolved from its larva stage to a beautiful amphibian! Frogtal, the Frog of the Fractals is born! Leave those tadpoles to the petty predators, you know better, and this bull frog is for you!
All glory to the Frogtal!



The Hypnotoad says: Visit!, Subscribe!, Swallow!.
All glory to the Hypnotoad!

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Two virtual images

I should be working (yes, on the weekend... well), but the flu stopped me. Nature knows and reacts when something is too much. But now, all of the sudden, there's too much time to think for a mind with atrophy. So the balance of the too-much now is hanging to the other side, opposite to where a brain without weight is placed.
On my excess of time to think I went through the memory of the places I wanted to visit since I was a child, and they were only two. Since I was a child: New York City; since a teenager: Varanasi. In the primal and untidy attachment to the images of these two cities, received during those years, there was a base of knowledge that hasn't failed yet; there was an spiritual, yet unclear base for this attachment. The years started to slowly prove it, without any search for proving anything. The base was an idea of change that couldn't happen in any different way than visiting, and making my way through those two cities.
Right now, while going through a dark time, there are positive changes operating inside me, and they are directly linked to my very personal experience with the city of New York. My whole being is slowly revolutionized in a mild way, without blows or spectacular lights.
What was expected of New York, and what is expected of Varanasi? That was something that took decades to foresee, but I could, I could see in advance what would happen. New york was expected to be exactly what it was: an experience provided to set very well fixed milestones; milestones to measure the whole future change needed to humble the cosmic size of my ego to the cosmic size of its real importance for the community; small in the general, big in the particular. In the end, an experience to tame the ego and put it in its place in society.
What's expected of Varanasi is, for the lack of another expression, quite the opposite. It's expected to be an experience to leave milestones for the needed change of integrating the society to the inner forum of the individual that I am. Impossible to explain without a set of examples: Argentina is very well known by its sociologists as a very individualistic society, where acts of social awareness could be brilliant, but isolated and very rare. It's a matter of how this society is constructed. There are no social expressions of will, no festivals, patriotic celebrations are fake, and a uniform way to be is desired for creating a personal and social sense of peace. In India there are social festivals, celebrations of the good prevailing over evil, and a high value of the learning experience of life. Finding your path to personal knowledge about what's good for the person and the society, is desired there to create a sense of peace.
In New York the same person that kindly says hello to you today, can't recognize you tomorrow. You are this that you are, in a city that it's too big to remember one of the crowd. When you can be a stranger for someone that you know well for years, this creates the haze of a dream surrounding what's real and what's not. A friend can put a friend aside for a while, to catch another objective, there are no hard feelings there; simply how the place is constructed. It teaches very well to desist on the ego, and embrace the common ground. It's a very spiritual place. In Varanasi a guy will honk his claxon for 30 minutes, naively and without hard feelings at all, until you manage to get out of a narrow path, crowded by puppy dogs and loud crossing people; you are this that you are, and you are there all the time, every second is too raw, until you are not there anymore. And it teaches you how and where to be, and not to be; teaches also what's good, and how to persist on every breath you take. It's another very spiritual place. Both are; one to desist on the futile, the other to persist on the essential.
These two cities are obviously a personal experience, and only create this atmosphere to me; they help me to evaporate the illusion of personality and they empower the reality of what's common in us all. So they both are important catalyzers for a change that I can't manage to do by myself. A change towards an objective of inner peace, recognized nothing less than twenty five years ago.
Nature knows when something is too much, knows how to stress a fast change with a flu; or how to provoke a drastic and slow change, with a primal need to visit two cities. New York is influencing from the past, Varanasi already from the future. Two images, one from the past, another from the future. Both operating their gentle force to switch the rotation axis of my world, from the outside to the inside; to something needed, to something happy inside.

All this configures only one of several reasons why I've always known that I need no shrink: I know how to place the pieces of my own puzzle; and the time it takes, must also be considered part of the puzzle. Who else could know better.
Inner peace to have freedom without numbness, freedom without numbness to have happiness without recklessness.

Maybe even my nickname shall be part of the sense of it all one day, since ancient indians considered the frog as a symbol of radical transformation, a swimmer through tough life-transitions, needing no assurance while traveling, a being of enhanced intuition, with a strong and calm connection with the spirit world. One day.

Mandalas #15, #16 & #17

Spring:
A hill without a name
Veiled in morning mist.



The beginning of autumn:
Sea and emerald paddy
Both the same green.



The winds of autumn
Blow: yet still green
The chestnut husks.



A flash of lightning:
Into the gloom
Goes the heron's cry.


Matsuo Bashō.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Specie of the dark #12

An image, and I'm nothing, by Violent Femmes.



I-M-N-O-T-H-I-N
I-M-N-O-T-H-I-N
I'm nothing'
I'm nothin'
Are you a republican or a democrat
A liberal fascist full of crap
I'm nothin'
I'm nothin'
Somebody somewhere might be something
But everybody everywhere
Knows that I'm nothin
Politics and dirty tricks
I got no time for stones and sticks
Politics and dirty tricks
I got no time I'm chasing chicks
I'm nothin'
I'm nothin'
Somebody somewhere might be something
But everybody everywhere
Knows that I'm nothing
I'm nothing but I'm not proud
'Cause being nothing it's not allowed
Are you a gay or are you straight
Do you believe in love
Or do you believe in hate
I'm nothin'
I'm nothin'
Somebody somewhere said he was something
But to everybody everywhere
I'm saying I'm nothing
I'm nothing. I'm like a cloud
I'm free to be alone in a crowd
What's your reality. It's not real to me
What's your anomaly. It is my destiny
I-M-N-O-T-H-I-N
I-M-N-O-T-H-I-N
I'm nothin'
Nothin'
Nothin'
I'm nothing now and I'll be nothing when
This nothing world has it's nothing end


Violent Femmes, "I'm nothing". Play the song with this widget:

Monday, October 12, 2009

2D Abstract #113

A 2D abstract and a song by The Steinbecks.



The Steinbecks, "Same Light". Play the song with this widget:

Saturday, October 10, 2009

Genetic Algorithms - 3D abstract #106

An abstract and a song by Whitest Boy Alive.



I'm so happy you called
I really needed a break
From all the people I see
All the people I spend time with

Where did my summer go
The week that was canceled
Was my only chance
To get out of this place

So how have you been
I heard about your problem
At the end of this road
A common solution

My favourite thing about you
Please don't get me wrong
How natural it feels
Five Minutes without talking
Five Minutes without talking


Whitest Boy Alive, "All ears". Play the song with this widget:

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

Mandalas #11, #12, #13 & #14

Four images and a song to play by Dylan Mondegreen.









i could talk to you
if i had something to say
something funny and profound
that would seem to make sense
i have no such stories

so i go to my home
and i stay at home
take a drink for my own pleasure
take a bath to feel clean
and it's good to be alone

when i'm tired of being polite
my room is the site
of a dreamer's life

when the night comes
and all i have is myself
then i look at the stars
till my eyes get sore
when your friends are gone
what is life all about?
i spend too much time alone
just listening to my favourite songs

so i dream about love
that's what's keeping me awake
sure you'd love to come visit
sure you'd love to stay
but not tonight


Dylan Mondegreen, "my favourite songs". Play the song with this widget:

Sunday, October 04, 2009

Specie of the dark #11



jag lämnar mina saker här så jag kan komma tillbaka
för att inte du ska påminna mig går jag innan du vaknar
aaaa-aaah

det är inte kärlek
inte förväntan
inte en sport
bara än bestämd om att inte släppa taget
om din kropp

nu har du fått mig på halsen
och det kan inte va lätt
en apa med grepp om allt utom ditt hjärta
det spelar ingen roll att du säger

laaksonen, laaksonen
kom igen, kom igen
laaksonen, laaksonen
kom igen, kom igen

aaaa-aaaah
aaaa-aaaah

nu har du fått mig på halsen
och det kan inte va lätt
en apa med grepp om allt utom ditt hjärta
det spelar ingen roll att du säger

laaksonen, laaksonen
kom igen, kom igen
laaksonen, laaksonen
kom igen, kom igen

laaksonen, laaksonen
kom igen, kom igen
laaksonen, laaksonen
kom igen

la la la la la la la la la


Sibiria, "Laaksonen, laaksonen". Play the song with this widget:

Thursday, October 01, 2009

2D Abstract #112



Another band I like a lot, Death Cab for Cutie, this new song was released days ago.

Meet me on the Equinox
Meet me half way
When the sun is perched at it's highest peek
In the middle of the day

Let me give my love to you
Let me take your hand
As we walk in the dimming light
Or darling understand

That everything, everything ends
That everything, everything ends

Meet me on your best behavior
Meet me at your worst
For there will be no stone unturned
Or bubble left to burst

Let me lay beside you, Darling
Let me be your man
And let our bodies intertwine
But always understand

That everything, everything ends
That everything, everything ends
That everything, everything, everything ends

A window
An opened tomb
The sun crawls
Across your bedroom
A halo
A waiting room
Your last breaths
Moving through you

As everything, everything ends
As everything, everything ends
As everything, everything, everything
Everything, everything, everything ends

Meet me on the Equinox
Meet me half way
When the sun is perched at it's highest peek
In the middle of the day

Let me give my love to you
Let me take your hand
As we walk in the dimming light
Or darling understand

That everything, everything ends


Death Cab For Cutie, "Meet me on the equinox". You can play the song with this widget:

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Genetic Algorithms - 3D Abstract #105

Maybe this grows in the swamp where the swamp creature lives, in any case, I use it to justify another great song by my admired Mountain Goats. Play it down below.



Got out of bed, could not remember my own name
Condemned to walk the soil amongst all creatures wild and tame
Go where I go, do what I must
Crawl starving on my belly
Licking up the dry dust

I See the light in your window
Ride the elevator to the sixth floor
Stand with my arms at my sides as you open up the door
But I’m out of my element I can’t breathe
I’m out of my element
I can’t breathe

Alone with your bathroom mirror
Try to get my head straight
Breathe on the glass and wait for it to clear
Clean slate

Meet up with you in the kitchen
Where the air is hot and dry
Open up all the faucets
Be fruitful and multiply

I stand where the flashing swords gleam
And I try to shake my head clear of the dream
But I’m out of my element I can’t breathe
I’m out of my element
I can’t breathe

I start to sweat I can’t cool down
I’m scared of all the strangers in this town
I try to tell you just why I’ve come
It’s like I’ve got molasses on my tongue

I made it through town somehow
But who’s going to save me now?
I’m out of my element I can’t breathe
I’m out of my element
I can’t breathe


The Mountain Goats, "How to embrace a swamp creature". Play the song with this widget:

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Genetic Algorithms - 3D Abstract #104

Maybe I found this creature in the craters on the moon; maybe that's the reason for the added song by The Mountain Goats, but please, please, do yourself a great favour: pay real deep attention to this band, not this song only; they have many other good ones... in the last weeks, John Darnielle became a new hero to me, and that always takes years to happen, but the guy achieved it with the listening of one of his albums only. I play it on ten.



If the strain proves too much
Give up right away
If the light hurts your eyes
Stay in your room all day

When the room fills with smoke
Lie down on the floor
In the declining years
Of the long war

Well the blood's in the water
And the shark's gonna come
And we swim in the dark
Until our bodies are numb

Blind desert rats in the moonlight
Too far from shore
In the declining years
Of the long war

Empty room with a lightbulb
Where the phone starts to ring
Everybody gets nervous
Nobody says anything

The next day someone's initials
Show up on the door
I think I'm gonna crack
Can't live like this anymore

Ugly things in the darkness
Worse things in store
In the declining years
Of the long war


The Mountain Goats, "In the craters on the moon". Play the song with this widget:

Friday, September 25, 2009

Specie of the dark #10

I'm posting very good songs lately. This one is some inner, dark, philistine beast of this poor thin man; that's the reason for the Bob Dylan song to play down there.



You walk into the room
With your pencil in your hand
You see somebody naked
And you say, "Who is that man?"
You try so hard
But you don't understand
Just what you'll say
When you get home

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You raise up your head
And you ask, "Is this where it is?"
And somebody points to you and says
"It's his"
And you say, "What's mine?"
And somebody else says, "Where what is?"
And you say, "Oh my God
Am I here all alone?"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You hand in your ticket
And you go watch the geek
Who immediately walks up to you
When he hears you speak
And says, "How does it feel
To be such a freak?"
And you say, "Impossible"
As he hands you a bone

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

You have many contacts
Among the lumberjacks
To get you facts
When someone attacks your imagination
But nobody has any respect
Anyway they already expect you
To just give a check
To tax-deductible charity organizations

You've been with the professors
And they've all liked your looks
With great lawyers you have
Discussed lepers and crooks
You've been through all of
F. Scott Fitzgerald's books
You're very well read
It's well known

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, the sword swallower, he comes up to you
And then he kneels
He crosses himself
And then he clicks his high heels
And without further notice
He asks you how it feels
And he says, "Here is your throat back
Thanks for the loan"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Now you see this one-eyed midget
Shouting the word "NOW"
And you say, "For what reason?"
And he says, "How?"
And you say, "What does this mean?"
And he screams back, "You're a cow
Give me some milk
Or else go home"

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?

Well, you walk into the room
Like a camel and then you frown
You put your eyes in your pocket
And your nose on the ground
There ought to be a law
Against you comin' around
You should be made
To wear earphones

Because something is happening here
But you don't know what it is
Do you, Mister Jones?


Bob Dylan, "Ballad of a thin man". Play the song with this widget:

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Mandalas #9 & 10

Two mandalas under the dark light of mediocre ground; that's the reason for the Belle And Sebastian song to play down there.





Sunbeam shone, mousy girl on the end pew
You'd stay home, oh, if only they'd let you
Le Pastie de la Bourgeoisie

Municipal pool, you're a junior life saver
But your friends are all serious ravers
Le Pastie de la Bourgeoisie
Reading Judy Blume
But you came too soon

You're too tall, much too tall for a boyfriend
They run and hide, from your buckteeth and split ends
Don't be scared, like the books you've read
You're the heroine
You'll be doing fine

Wouldn't you like to get away?
Bestowing the memory of good and evil
On the ones you left behind
The heartless swine

And you love like nobody around you
How you love, and a halo surrounds you
Le Pastie de la Bourgeoisie
In the Autumn cool
Say cheerio to school

Listen dear, I've been watching you lately
If I said all these things you would hate me
Le Pastie de la Bourgeoisie
At the church bazaar
I nearly went too far

Wouldn't you like to get away?
Give yourself up to the allure of
Catcher in the Rye
The future's swathed in Stars and Stripes

Wouldn't you like to get away?
Kerouac's beckoning with open arms
And open roads of eucalyptus
Westward bound


Belle And Sebastian, "Le Pastie de la Bourgeoisie". Play the song with this widget:

Monday, September 21, 2009

International day of peace 2009

An image by me and a song by The Innocence Mission, to say goodbye to the cold winter, and to welcome the springtime in Argentina, and the International Day of Peace. May peace bloom and prevail on earth.



Sweep down early, Tomorrow, come.
Ring out. Tell me you have arrived.
I will kiss all the faces of my beloved ones.
I will meet the morning.
Sweep down early, my friend.

Flower forth, all you branches of Easter.
Why won't the spring come?
Sweep down early, Tomorrow, come.
Tell me that I can just start over again.
Sweep down early, my friend.

And we will go somewhere now.
And it feels like we can go
in the morning. When the morning comes.


The Innocence Mission, "Sweep down early". Play the song with this widget:

Friday, September 18, 2009

Specie of the dark #9

This one got away from an evil lab, that's the reason for the song to play down there, by Built To Spill.



They got the things that they wanted
Forgot the things that they say
They got the things that they came for
And they got away

And then they say:
We would never harm no one
Intelligence we received was wrong

Only a fool takes power at its word

They got the things that they wanted
Forgot the things that they say
They got the things that they came for
And they got away

And then they say:
We would never harm no one
We would only strategically bomb

All of humanity hangs by a thread

They got the things that they wanted
Forgot the things that they say
They got the things that they came for
And they got away

And then they say:
We would never appease no one
We negotiate with gods

Jesus would hate what they've done with this world


Built To Spill, "They Got Away". Play the song with this widget:

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

2D Abstracts #106, 107, 108, 109 & 110

Since all this comes from my handpocket, that's the name of the song to play down there.









Put your hand in my back pocket
As if it were your own back pocket
Sing with me, Bri (Laa Daa Daa)
Cause singin' makes me wanna do it (Thank you)

Skate with me (her) to the place where
I (she) once met with mortal danger
The ice was thin and I fell through it
And when I got out I was panicked
And when I'm panicked I can't skate, no no no
When I got out the bruises on my knees were enormous

Once my dad took me ice fishing
I was cold and bored and found myself wish that I was
Doing anything else but ice fishing
So I wondered away with my head in outer space
I feel into a hole my dad had drilled into the lake
When he pulled me my dad's friends could not stop laughing
I almost died it was so embarrassing
But I'm alive so you can fall in love with me

So put put put put
Put your hand in my back pocket
As if it were your own back pocket
Sing with me, Bri (Laa Daa Daa)
Cause singin' makes me wanna do it

Ski with me (her) to the place where
I (she) once met with mortal danger
I fell in front of a big snow plower
And the truck was going to run me over
And if my dad had not pulled me out of the way
I would not be here to be in love with you today

So put put put put
Put your hand in my back pocket
As if it were your own back pocket
Sing with me, Bri (Laa Daa Daa)
Cause singin' makes me wanna do it


Best Friends Forever, "Handpocket". Play the song with this widget:

Sunday, September 13, 2009

Specie of the dark #8

The endurance of darkness is preparation for great light.


St. John of the Cross, "Dark Night of the Soul".



I'm adding a song from the Frogboard top 50: Soko, "Shitty day", play it with the widget here below:



I hate myself today.
I don't know what's happening to me.
I hate my face today.
I think I look so shitty.

I have some spot everywhere.
And I'm not even shaved.
My hair all greasy.
I look disgusting.

My eyes are glued.
My lips are chapped.
My legs are prickling.
And plus I'm stinky today.

How can I date someone with a face like that?
I know you're gonna dump me again,
And I am gonna cry.

Cause you want a perfect girl,
And I'm not what you expect.
You want a perfect girl,
And I look shitty today.

Maybe I should put some makeup,
And find some crazy outfits.
But I am very tired today
And I don't care if I'm not pretty.

Should be like these girls,
Skinny and great all the time.
I'm still wearing my slippers
And eat all the candies at home.

I should sleep more,
And stop going out everyday.
I should focus more,
And stop complaining today.

Tell me, How can I date someone with a face like that?
I know you're gonna dump me again,
And I am gonna cry.

Cause you want a perfect girl,
And I'm not so perfect.
You want a perfect girl,
And I look shitty today.

Tell me, how can I date someone with a face like that?
I know you're gonna dump me,
And I'm gonna cry.

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

Genetic Algorithms - 3D Abstract #103 (No background)

I repost this image, with a null background, because for the first time in a long while, I'm slightly proud of the final result with this creature.
After several intents to combine textures, colours and shapes, and after the 12 hours of the final render, what took me to pick this creature was the final sense of fragility of the very light bones under a transparent skin; it indeed looked as a fragile being to me.



When I saw this entity after the first draft, I needed to give to the image a background that wasn't a big contrast in colour or shape, but one that was organically combined; an environment created to preserve its frail nature from alteration, from temptation, from damage. And that was the image on the previous post.

Monday, September 07, 2009

Genetic Algorithms - 3D Abstract #103

For some time, I'll be posting some random music to play, just to feel a minor change.



He says he wants to buy a metal shade
which they’ll never collide
she fills the room with dark blades of grass
that she couldn’t revive

the plastic trees of the wasted time
on a winter’s end are fading her mind
the crucifix on the liquor’s blue
hits the comforting of a transparent life

What twenty years at last will give?
She can’t make him stop
she can’t make her stop but he knows she will

she’s filtering the pastor’s truth
he’s fingering with her feelings’ glue
but the frequency could make’em stop
(this knot is standin’ still)


Giardini Di Mirò, "The Comforting Of A Transparent Life". Play it with this widget:

Friday, September 04, 2009

Evil eye



There is a house that most of all on earth I hate.
Though I have passed through many sorrows and have been
In bloody fields, sad seas, and countries desolate,
Yet most I fear that empty house where the grasses green
Grow in the silent court the gaping flags between,
And down the moss-grown paths and terrace no man treads
Where the old, old weeds rise deep on the waste garden beds.
Like eyes of one long dead the empty windows stare
And I fear to cross the garden, I fear to linger there,
For in that house I know a little, silent room
Where Someone’s always waiting, waiting in the gloom
To draw me with an evil eye, and hold me fast—
Yet thither doom will drive me and He will win at last.


C. S. Lewis, "Alexandrines".

Tuesday, September 01, 2009

Genetic Algorithms - 3D Abstract #102



I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade
He'd let us in, knows where we've been
In his octopus' garden in the shade

I'd ask my friends to come and see
An octopus' garden with me
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade.

We would be warm below the storm
In our little hideaway beneath the waves
Resting our head on the sea bed
In an octopus' garden near a cave

We would sing and dance around
because we know we can't be found
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden in the shade

We would shout and swim about
The coral that lies beneath the waves
(Lies beneath the ocean waves)
Oh what joy for every girl and boy
Knowing they're happy and they're safe
(Happy and they're safe)

We would be so happy you and me
No one there to tell us what to do
I'd like to be under the sea
In an octopus' garden with you.


Ringo Starr, "Octopus's garden". Play the song with this widget:

Monday, August 31, 2009

3108 day (or Blog Day 2009)

Just a blazing fast post to commemorate Blog Day. No notification to the bloggers, no description of the blogs, no tag of the site, just my favourite expression: "No time!"

My reading recommendations to everyone who likes to read extremely good material:

Katie Bowen

Russ Loar

Trèe George

Tai Moses

Christina Wells

All of them deep and lovely.

...plus: a couple of colours (Abstract #106). Good night.

Friday, August 28, 2009

Mandalas #7 & 8



Drinking my tea
Without sugar-
No difference.


Allen Ginsberg.

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