Most excellent Monday evening fractal

The nice thing about being a Crab is intuition. You can bypass all those tiresome details that ~prove~ what you're thinking and seeing actually exist. You just KNOW.

And fractals were something I just ~knew~ -- and understood -- without understanding the math.

Make no mistake -- these amazing creations ARE math.

(For a brief history of the math involved, go here.)

It comes down to smaller versions of things being replicated to larger ones, and vice versa, in a wonderful symphony of images. The fractal I offer here was computer-generated.

(A thing which, in itself, is a powerful song ... binary numbers, alpha and omega, if you will, capable of generating so many, many possibilities ...)

I love the idea of endless possibilities. I think that's what life is all about.

This one's for you, Greenie :o)

Viva el Flamenco!

Poetry in motion ...

"When the Lady walks, she leaves cinnamon and roses."



(via the Manolo at shoeblogs.com)

Late winter, Monday evening cosmic picture

Miss Magatha

This is my Maggie, half of the twain with Dana. Isn't she beautiful?


She doesn't think she is. But then, she's 16. Many people think 16 is when we're our MOST beautiful ... but we're so self-aware at 16, it's hard to step outside ourselves. I, myself, think I got stuck at 16. I like the way things look from that perspective. Fresh, intuitive, emotional, still innocent, but worldly, too ...


If Dana is a Woman-Child, Maggie is a Child-Woman. Her emotions are now smooth-running currents, now tsunamis -- it's her life's task to master them, Scorpio as she is, and at 16, she's doing mighty well. One look into those clear blue eyes, and you know she'll forever be a child, in the very best way.


Learn how to surf, my English Rose -- and heaven will smile on you :o)

***

"You come on like a dream, Peaches and Cream,
Lips like strawberry wine,
You're 16, you're beautiful, and you're mine." (Richard Sherman and Robert Sherman)

The Sea

“The fishermen know that the sea is dangerous and the storm terrible, but they have never found these dangers sufficient reason for remaining ashore.” (Vincent Van Gogh)









In Handel's "Messiah," one of the arias begins with "I know that my Redeemer liveth." It is a statement of hope and a statement of certainty.

(Not to mention one of the most heart-breakingly beautiful pieces of music ever written.)

Consider it.

Jesus was a simple* man. He was a carpenter, bred in inland Bethlehem, but He easily surfed with his fisher brethren who lived, and died, on the sea, because He was the original Renaissance Man.

Jesus's love of -- and familiarity with -- the sea, resonates with me.

Water. Power. No control. ALL control. Myriad, competing calls ... all of which return to the source, which is water. It is as fluid, and timeless, as now.

The ocean is my womb, my brother, my friend, my enemy, my lover ... it is as indivisible as breath, as warmth, as sight, as wonder.

UPDATE: Commenter j.d. hildebrand shared this verse, expressing that it should be added, and I completely agree. (Thank you, jdh!) It is wonderful. Here it is:

And Jesus was a sailor
When he walked upon the water
And he spent a long time watching
From his lonely wooden tower
And when he knew for certain
Only drowning men could see him
He said "All men will be sailors then
Until the sea shall free them"
But he himself was broken
Long before the sky would open
Forsaken, almost human
He sank beneath your wisdom like a stone
And you want to travel with him
And you want to travel blind
And you think maybe you'll trust him
For he's touched your perfect body with his mind.

... the incredible, edible Escher