LISSAJOUS
All pieces are 2022.
Each piece features Lissajous curves, which are linear forms that plot harmonic motion.
From a 2015 journal entry:
ENORMOUS and ALIVE
"Driving home last night, the twilight was deep, the sky incredibly clear. The red lights of cars on freeways gliding through the air. I became aware of a strange and beautiful and enormously full undercurrent flowing through it all. It is creative and it is potential. Anything is possible. At any time it can leak through into the quotidian world, but we don't notice, and so we miss it, miss its opportunities.
It's strange and beautiful and creative, and it's impersonal. But it has a sense of humor. A "try anything" openness. It's quirky. It has delight. But it doesn't dwell in delight. It moves on fast. It's unattached, unsentimental. Like a child's experiment: "Wheee!" — then it moves on. This gives it a quality of excitement, of anticipation.
One moment to the next is new, new, new, yet all is held together in the threads of the flow. Fast, like a slipstream. And it's there the whole time. Like clear blue sky is there, even when hidden by clouds. And it's there in the sacred dark spaces on a hillside beside a freeway at twilight. Anything can happen."
All pieces are 2022.
Each piece features Lissajous curves, which are linear forms that plot harmonic motion.
From a 2015 journal entry:
ENORMOUS and ALIVE
"Driving home last night, the twilight was deep, the sky incredibly clear. The red lights of cars on freeways gliding through the air. I became aware of a strange and beautiful and enormously full undercurrent flowing through it all. It is creative and it is potential. Anything is possible. At any time it can leak through into the quotidian world, but we don't notice, and so we miss it, miss its opportunities.
It's strange and beautiful and creative, and it's impersonal. But it has a sense of humor. A "try anything" openness. It's quirky. It has delight. But it doesn't dwell in delight. It moves on fast. It's unattached, unsentimental. Like a child's experiment: "Wheee!" — then it moves on. This gives it a quality of excitement, of anticipation.
One moment to the next is new, new, new, yet all is held together in the threads of the flow. Fast, like a slipstream. And it's there the whole time. Like clear blue sky is there, even when hidden by clouds. And it's there in the sacred dark spaces on a hillside beside a freeway at twilight. Anything can happen."
© Julia Stoops