Experimental, 3D L-Systems

Just trying to go a step further again, I slowly started to create a third branch of my software to create 3D L-Systems now. The first phase was (and still is) 2D Evolutionary Art through genetic algorithms, the second was (and still is) 3D Evolutionary Art through the 3D application of genetic algorithms.
So this are my first results on 3D L-Systems, one quite new path for digital art, as 3D art through genetic algorithms also is, to be fair.
The biggest problem I have for the results on 3D L-Systems is the same that I have for genetic algorithms: the position of the camera, the view tends to get blocked by the growing 3D objects. The easiest is the scenery (because is a simple scenery too), my friends use to ask me about how the scenery interacts with the generated objects and it is very simple: Pov-Ray takes care of it once the camera position and the lights position is given, and my scenery only consists of one or two planes only, so it is mostly a mirage.

This was my seventh attempt of an image, and I show this one instead of the first because in this one I was able to get transparency and specular reflection in the textures. This was the first version of this attempt, and it's a set of growing objects (simple cubes) through 3D L-Systems, note the arborescent structure:



Green cubes again! ;-)
To this first version I added a fractal background by the same module I'm using since my second branch of the software, this only takes a minute to input the parameters and render, this is the second version, same objects, now with a simple scenery:




I'm using Pov-Ray 64-bits as my rendering engine, and its text source files of every scene use to hit the stunning size of 30 MB.
I've not seen yet great developments on genetic algorithms for 3D visual arts or 3D L-Systems for the same purpose, but eventually, as the field evolves, I'll get ideas from some other people so I can go faster with this project too.
This third branch of my software is in pre-alpha stage, and very rustic; the 3D Evoart branch is alpha, and the old 2D Evoart original is Beta and almost abandoned... My obvious problem is finding the time to continue the development and keeping a job, and some remains of having-a-life yet.
Eventually will show something more on this, although I know how boring this is, even though I find interesting the future possibilities of this grammar and tech (nology - nique).

3D (GA's) Alien snail

These are salt resistant.

oh snail,
climb mount fuji,
but slowly, slowly

Kobayashi Issa.

3D (GA's) green cubes

If you were looking for green cubes, you came to the right place; if you were not, I'm sorry and understand you, it happens to me all the time, to look for something and to find something different. So this is why I posted green cubes, if you find them you are satisfied, if you were not looking for or don't care about them, you find a sympathetic ear. I posted green cubes because it's always a win-win situation. ;-) ...and because I didn't have anything better. The poem is great though, it's nice to see how Slessor relates materials and hard shapes with fixed ideas and fluid images with a light flow of thought.

Ranks of electroplated cubes, dwindling to glitters,
Like the other pasture, the trigonometry of marble,
Death's candy-bed. Stone caked on stone,
Dry pyramids and racks of iron balls.
Life is observed, a precipitate of pellets,
Or grammarians freeze it into spar,
Their rhomboids, as for instance, the finest crystal
Fixing a snowfall under glass. Gods are laid out
In alabaster, with horny cartilage
And zinc ribs; or systems of ecstasy
Baked into bricks. There is a gallery of sculpture,
Bleached bones of heroes, Gorgon masks of bushrangers;
But the quarries are of more use than this,—
Filled with the rolling of huge granite dice,
Ideas and judgments: vivisection, the Baptist Church,
Good men and bad men, polygamy, birth-control...
Frail tinkling rush
Water-hair streaming
Prickles and glitters
Cloudy with bristles
River of thought
Swimming the pebbles—
Undo, loosen your bubbles

Kenneth Slessor, "Fixed ideas"

Abstract Nº74

[...]
And the same night there fell a shower of rain,
For which their mouths gaped, like the cracks of earth
When dried to summer dust; till taught by pain
Men really know not what good water 's worth;
[...]

Lord Byron, "Don Juan", Canto the Second.

Abstract Nº73

Truthful words are not beautiful; beautiful words are not truthful. Good words are not persuasive; persuasive words are not good.

Lao Tsu, "Tao Te Ching".

Sun of May

 
On May the 25th, the May Revolution Day, during a non-violent week of revolution in 1810, Argentina decided to be ruled by itself. The Sun of May is a national reference to the May Revolution here, and it is on our flag. The flag colours are sky blue and white.

High in the sky, a warrior eagle
audacious it rises in its triumphal flight
A blue wing of the color of the sky
A blue wing of the color of the sea

Thus in the high radiant aurora.
The tip of an arrow the golden face imitates.
And the purple neck leaves a wake.
The wing is cloth, the eagle is flag.

It is the flag of my homeland,
born from the sun that God gave me.
It is the flag of my homeland,
born from the sun that God gave me.

H.C. Quesada & L. Illica, "Sunrise".

Alta en el cielo, un águila guerrera
audaz se eleva en vuelo triunfal;
azul un ala del color del cielo,
azul un ala del color del mar.

Así en la alta aurora irradial,
punta de flecha el áureo rostro imita,
y forma estela al purpurado cuello.

El ala es paño, el águila es bandera.
Es la bandera de la patria mía,
del sol nacida, que me ha dado Dios;
es la bandera de la patria mía,
del sol nacida, que me ha dado Dios.

H.C. Quesada & L. Illica, "Aurora".

3D (GA's) Nonsensical sculpture

It is nonsense
says reason
It is what it is
says love

It is calamity
says calculation
It is nothing but pain
says fear
It is hopeless
says insight
It is what it is
says love

It is ludicrous
says pride
It is foolish
says caution
It is impossible
says experience
It is what it is
says love

Eric Fried, "What it is".

3D (GA's) Aquatic plant II

The alchemists detect in the sexual activity of man a correspondence with the world's creation, with the growth of plants, and with mineral formations. When they see the union of rain and earth, they see it in an erotic sense, as copulation. And this extends to all natural realms of matter. For they can picture love affairs of chemicals and stars, a romance of stones, or the fertility of fire.

James Morrison, "Notes on vision".

3D (GA's) Seashell

The sea, my mother, is singing to me,
She is singing the old refrain,
Of passion, of love, and of mystery,
And her world-old song of pain;
Of the mirk midnight and the dazzling day,
That trail their robes o'er the wet sea-way.

The sea, my mother, is singing to me
With the white foam caught in her hair,
With the seaweed swinging its long arms free,
To grapple the blown sea air:
The sea, my mother, with billowy swell,
Is telling her tale to the wave-washed shell.

The sea, my mother, is singing to me,
With the starry gleam in her wave,
A dirge of the dead, of the sad, sad sea,
A requiem song of the brave;
Tenderly, sadly, the surges tell
Their tale of death to the wave-washed shell.

The sea, my mother, confides to me,
As she turns to the soft, round moon,
The secrets that lie where the spirits be,
That hide from the garish noon:
The sea, my mother, who loves me well,
Is telling their woe to the wave-washed shell.

O mother o' mine, with the foam-flecked hair,
O mother, I love and know
The heart that is sad and the soul that is bare
To your daughter of ebb and flow;
And I hold your whispers of Heaven and Hell
In the loving heart of a wave-washed shell.

David MacDonald Ross, "The Sea to the Shell".

3D (GA's) Mushrooms and flower

A little ink more or less!
I surely can't matter?
Even the sky and the opulent sea,
The plains and the hills, aloof,
Hear the uproar of all these books.
But it is only a little ink more or less.

What?
You define me God with these trinkets?
Can my misery meal on an ordered walking
Of surpliced numskulls?
And a fanfare of lights?
Or even upon the measured pulpitings
Of the familiar false and true?
Is this God?
Where, then, is hell?
Show me some bastard mushroom
Sprung from a pollution of blood.
It is better.

Where is God?

Stephen Maria Crane, "A little ink more or less!".