A poem from text snippets of my last three posts, interlaced with a metamorphosis of my last drawing.

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The familiar wave
is in the middle, oblique.
accessible to intuitive interpretation.

To tame it, sort of,
come to rescue
Or are they?

Going from up to down
you only care about directions

What does this mean

Thus we know about
properties of space
but it is still hard

You can whirl around either of them
where pure math ends
spitting out numbers

All this can be traced down to
a much more complex system
that we believe to understand

the connection line with
memories of hydrodynamic waves

All of this was just an excuse
an interesting constraint
a meditation on geometry
in an era of impeccable

draw it over and over
live in the same space
improve incrementally

Errors add up
bubble up from the depth of subconsciousness

transformative piece of
the incoming beam

Patterns have been distorted
the wavefront hitting the crystal
in many ways

but never used it since
like a different galaxy
stored in a large cabinet

my elliptical universe
was forbidding
difficult to convey this beauty

change the characters

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