Do we need complexity to create beauty? I think not. The most amazing shapes emerge from the simplest of patterns. I wonder why we have a tendency to hang onto complexity as if it had value in itself? It takes a conscious effort to move in the opposite direction; back to the roots of beauty, to a seed of simplicity carried by the wind.
An old friend has come to visit again… but this time, he speaks of power instead of beauty. Stronger, a bit darker, with an almost overwhelming presence; challenging me to do more. I hear the sound of his wings as he sweeps by, inviting me to take flight.
(Click on the image to see a larger version)
Into this fractal garden you can always retreat, surrounding yourself in calm, dim light and listen to the deepest heartbeat of the world, to the rhythm that sweeps you away gently into your own dance, your own ritual; unique yet connected to the steady pounding of this inner core.
This place is real, I can feel it deep within me. So can you, if you only care to listen to the subtle but constant drum that marks this most sacred spot, the very center of the world.
(Click to enlarge and to save as wallpaper)
It is curious to watch how everything ripples outwards, ever expanding into infinity, drawing strange pattern around you. Some days, it is almost like you could come to comprehend it all. But the next moment everything eludes you again.
The details are fading away, everything is getting blurrier, more mysterious, filled with this strange light. But it’s still the same path, after all.
Here’s the original for reference. Let me know what you think!
I had a discussion recently over at Koldo Barroso’s site, regarding one of his pieces which had a very strong symbolic meaning for me, which was apparently never intended by the author.
In response to my comment, he mentioned:
I usually get an image in my head and later I add a text or a story to it, ’cause I’m more of a painter rather than a writer. So, the image comes to my head, I don’t think of the image in terms of symbols, but later it can be interpreted.
This answer illustrates a rather curious fact. Why is it that we are always looking for meaning and symbolism in everything we see? Is it not right for a work of art to exist just for it’s own sake, without necessarily transmitting a message?
I’ve curiously fallen into this habit too. The fractal images I create based on chaotic principles always start out as a blank slate, dots littering the screen, just being dots. However, as soon as I start arranging them in a specific order, a meaning emerges. The chaos becomes something more; all of a sudden it stands for a concept, a state of mind, or even a mythical creature.
I guess all of this just proves that we are fundamentally creative beings, that we choose our own meaning for things whenever we can’t find any. But is the meaning of anything even there, before we take our very first look at it?
Ultimately, it’s just the other half of our joint creative act taking place, don’t you think?
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.
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?
I have distant memories of my childhood when we used to have a christmas tree in our living room every year (more out of tradition than anything else.)
Now I’m all grown up, and I haven’t had one for years. I have no specific religous attachment to this symbol, but it does remind me of years past, of a simpler life. Therefore, in honor of my inner child that is in the process of reawakening, I’m renewing the tradition – right here in my new virtual home.
Enjoy!
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