Branching Reflections

This is the twin sister of another recent piece. It’s funny how two fractals can be literally 15 seconds apart from one another and look so different. The fact that the computer colors and finishes an image in fractions of a second makes experimenting very worthwile. There is no price to making a mistake, and great opportunity lies within the chaos.

Fractals and I somehow just click – it’s like love at first sight. I don’t think I’ll be leaving this medium behind, ever. Maybe I’ll expand, try something new… but my first love in art will always be fractals, just like Tolkien will always be the first writer who really pulled me in deep. Speaking of which, Jeff has put up a great series on Tolkien, fiction and divination, a combo which you definitely don’t want to miss.

And then the Moon Turned Red

I missed writing about this yesterday, but it’s still worth saying even if it isn’t news anymore. The eclipse was beautiful, and I was lucky enough to watch it from the roof of my building sometime after wednesday midnight. I tried capturing the moment, but ultimately settled for this abstract depiction (which hardly does the experience justice).

Intuition has always been very hard to describe for me. Generally it’s nothing more than a whisper, easily mistaken for the senseless chatter of the unconscious; it’s only the worldview I choose that gives the word its significance. Other times, such as this one, it’s a feeling so strong that it just forces me to drop everything and follow my gut. As usual, I found out about it the same day it was going to happen. As usual, the lazy part of me tried to convince me that it wasn’t going to be anything special; but as usual, the overwhelmingly strong urge to be there got the best of me.

It was definitely not the kind of thing I’d want to miss. The full moon was shining golden, red and orange, with such a force that it permeated me. It seemed like it was pulsating life, energy, pure fire. It certainly struck a chord inside, and the next day I just happened to stumble upon a story fit for the occasion, which spookily reflected my own inner struggles.

I wonder what opportunities I have been missing that could have made my day even a little bit more magical. Every night could be like this if I just chose to make it so. And what about you? Feel free to share your magical stories, ecplise-related or not, in the comments.

Always in progress

You’ll find plenty of colorful images on this site. However, only the fewest (perhaps this one or that other one) could actually be called “complete”, and only in the sense that I’m not likely to be tinkering with them for the time being. The rest of them are merely studies, scribbles, sketches, experiments, representations. A tiny sliver of who I was at that moment, frozen in time through little pieces of data, nothing more.

I don’t keep a gallery. This site is closer in nature to an atelier, a studio. I invite you to come in here and look at my work while it’s wet, fresh and authentic. I love blogs because they’re the perfect medium for this vision: Always in progress, always changing, always evolving. It’s the only constant in art, and in life.

The Second Half of Art

I have always said that creating art is only the first half of the work, half its significance. The other part, the one that completes the piece, makes it come full circle and gives it meaning, is the act of observation.

This was made very clear to me recently, when Deb left a comment in one of my latest posts to tell me how I had moved her to open up and start listening to her artistic inspiration. Barely knowing me, she told me of a vision that struck her, an interpretation I had never intended but which was nevertheless very powerful – in a way relevant to her and her unique viewpoint.

A particular image, just like the fractal it’s composed of, can replicate infinitely to present a unique and personalized version of itself to each of its viewers, sometimes meaningless, sometimes deeply transforming. My own perspective is only one among many, and with that realization, all I can do is take a step back and let my art speak for itself, allowing it to unfold and reach its fullest potential – without being hampered by the constraints of my particular interpretation.

In that spirit, today’s piece doesn’t come with an introduction. Instead, I’ll let you decide what to make of it, how to complete the puzzle that brings something deeper to this mere collection of colored dots. I must say that I am deeply grateful to you, for you have given my art a breath of life, and by doing that, turned into an artist yourself. I’d love to hear about your interpretation in the comments, if you feel like sharing it.

Phoenix

Don’t think that fractal art has anything to do with sitting down and creating a piece all by myself. My workflow is better described by the process of finding a combination of pseudo-random parameters that speak to my imagination and tweaking them into a presentable expression.

However, in spite of this seeming randomness, I’m never surprised to see the same themes emerge time and time again. The essence of a concept often seems to find its way into my image by its own will, instead of being depicted deliberately.

An old mythological friend of mine is visiting more frecuently these days, even though I wasn’t particularly looking for him. Of course he’s “just” a symbol, representing something that supposedly doesn’t exist in the physical sense, but let me point out that magic only appears in your life once you start believing in it.

Imagination to image to reality. Might that be the lesson he carries?