The golden ratio has fascinated the great mathematical minds for ages but it came to sit on millions of people’s bed table thanks to the Da Vinci Code. The book manages to remain cartoonish even when describing the “holy Phi” and the Fibonacci series but Dan Brown’s for another day, another post.
In mathematics and the arts, two quantities are in the golden ratio if the ratio between the sum of those quantities and the larger one is the same as the ratio between the larger one and the smaller. The golden ratio is approximately 1.6180339887.
The romantics see the Phi in everything beautiful like the solar system, the plants, the human body, music, the DNA and architecture; I designed my first Golden Rectanglewhen I first learned graphic art years ago (above) – I made the one below last night; I believe that the nautilus seashells are the most exquisite examples of the divine proportion.
I am obsessed with Time; not only I have a weakness for wrist watches, I have several clocks around my house. Only when I am traveling (especially in france where Time is an elastic commodity) the passage of time becomes kind of blurred but I’ve never had any desire to go back nor forth in Time; the whole notion of a Time Machine has never appealed to me (not even to my trekkie side). Entropy rules supreme!
Aragon, one of my favorite french poets, has written his most beautiful piece about Time so have many other luminaries. “Newton, forgive me…” said Einstein who wrote his most beautiful piece about the same subject…
“Je vais te dire un grand secret Le temps c’est toi
Le temps est femme Il a
Besoin qu’on le courtise et qu’on s’asseye
A ses pieds le temps comme une robe à défaire
Le temps comme une chevelure sans fin
Un miroir que le souffle embue et désembue
Le temps c’est toi qui dors à l’aube où je m’éveille… Louis Aragon
I love this piece by Diana Calvario, my new friend at redbubble.
I thought I’ve lost most of my buenos aires pictures; what a gorgeous city, what beautiful music, beautiful people…
“El Tango es un pensamiento triste que hasta se puede bailar” – The Tango is a sad thought that you can dance. (Enrique Santos Discépolo)
Be it the sound of the Gotan Project or the great Astor Piazzola, this dance and this music have enchanted millions of people all over the world especially my good friends Andr� (the maestro) and Mitra (the pupil) who share the same birthday on monday, september 3rd.
i’ve been to Venice, Italy some years ago but i think that i would probably not go back to this beautiful but over-crowded city for a while – as usual i like it better when it’s empty of the unwashed masses. Venice has been home to the great Titian, Veronese and Tintoretto (cinquecento Venice) and Casanova…
i was moved by Venice and its 120 islands on the Adriatic sea but i loved it most at 5:30 in the morning. after years i still like these pictures i took one foggy morning when everybody was asleep.
“I stood in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs, a palace and prison on each hand” Lord Byron
i never particularly liked Turner – i didn’t know him much and i found it exasperating that 10 of his paintings were hung side by side in a museum in london (all yellow seas) – it all changed the day that i bought (in 2004) a book called Turner and Venice. i was humbled by the beauty of his paintings (all blue skies) and sketches. i’ve been watching Simon Schama‘s “Power of Art” on pbs and he talks about Turner in one of the eight episodes (among other giants like Picasso, Rembrandt, David and Rothko).
i would love to go back to Venice one day when it snows and everybody else is at Disneyland.
so i woke up this morning at 5 and headed towards trocadero. the idea of seeing the Eiffel Tower by itself was enough of a reason – the last time i was up this early for a photo shoot was in prague, last may.
the pigeons and me weren’t completely alone… a couple of Parisian lovers were watching the sun rise.
i started walking towards saint germain; Paris’ saturday morning streets were empty but for trash collectors, some late party goers walking back home and the omnipresent american joggers; even my least favorite bridge, pont Alexandre III, looked majestic in the golden morning hue.
french are in love with their bread; the bakeries in france smell different from anywhere else in the world – i always thought that the butter is the reason but i am learning that it is actually the flour – heaven must smell like french “p
this was an interesting museum because you could see where the artist lived – his work has never seemed very interesting to me but i thought a lot about my dear professor Ungvari when i was looking at Moreau’s study: there were many beautiful books and various collections of small drawings; the whole room was bathing in a quiet amber light.