A periodogram estimates the frequency spectrum of a time series. It’s a decomposition of the signal into its single frequency components. An overview of the rate of recurring events and their power. Weekends bring joy. Ends of month bring money. Mornings bring mourning. Sometimes delight. Seasons introduce change. Adventures approach with holidays. Family reunions come every second year. Resolutions once a year.
Adventure time has just passed and the 1 year frequency approaches with all its power. There was a time long ago on an island far away where I understood what is going on in this formula. Right now, I have no idea. Maybe it’s time to start revisiting long forgotten knowledge. Maybe with some fixed frequency. Maybe, at least, with undetermined infrequency.
And even though
it's hard to show,
I like to offer
you a glimpse
of what I felt
and what I saw,
I was in awe:
The elements
so pure and clean,
recurring yearly,
the routine.
And with this polished
elegance,
all thoughts dropped to
irrelevance.
The scene was peerless,
people fearless.
A single person
on a bike –
quite bold amidst the cold;
instead, I hike.
Meanwhile,
the moon seduces
all alike,
Snow-covered spruces,
frozen rails,
as blue took over,
in the sky
a crescent, thin,
night settled in.
And I descend
with frozen skin,
a radiant grin,
as it has been
miraculous.
Peace is comfortable. Conflicts only appear in the newspapers – neither in our streets, nor in our reality. But out there is war. And with every day we keep ignoring the climate crisis it comes closer. Climate refugees knock on our doors right now – and there will be more. And even though the conflicts haven’t even reached us yet, I am not fighting for what I believe: Basic human rights. The right to use our only chance on life. A chance that we could provide rather easily right now. Instead, I repeatedly choose comfort over action. Security over uncertainty. Every life lost in the Mediterranean, at the British Channel, at the Polish border, is lost forever. And even worse: the tide may turn. When it’s not a handful, but millions who seek shelter, water, food. Will there be a time where we have to defend what we have? Where we have to flee ourselves? So, sometimes, I engage the thought: Fight, flight, freeze? What is it worth fighting for? Would I fight? And why not now?
This topic deserves a longer post, I guess. But there is little time (another excuse to not fight right now…). Anyway, I like this selection of photos. Although they are from two different walks at two different lakes around here, they fit together: The combination of light and dark, the muted colors, the mood they reflect – nature during these early winter days. White and black, peace and war.
First snow, crisp air,
blue frost, white glow
buries despair,
and slow I go
onward.
From
parallel trees
lined up with ease,
to twigs that please,
like limbs, appease
the camera.
And clouds rise high
try to defy
the gravity.
As does my mind
left far behind,
outpaced by steps
towards the peak,
wandering blind
through some old week.
But now and then
it sure does speak,
with care: Beware! –
Do neither sink
into the past,
nor outrun now;
instead allow
to be, at last:
right here, right now.
And here, right now,
it's marvelous:
Another world,
curled into snow,
furled onto film,
pearled, carefully,
by ice and frost;
my soul gets lost.
And save to say:
Somehow,
it's winter now.
If finding an exact solution is not possible, perturbation theory provides a framework to build upon a known solution for a simpler problem. The resulting perturbation series can then be utilized to approximate the solution to the original, more complex, problem. If a simple picture does not work, perturbing it might result in the emergence of previously non-existent forms that produce structure. Thus, the more complex procedure while taking the photo can result in pictures of greater simplicity.
Motivation is the beginning. It entails action, which gives positive feedback and, in turn, boosts motivation. Without motivation, there is no action – it’s a (sometimes vicious) cycle.
Or is it? I got reminded recently: the cycle can start anywhere.
I have been ill at home for two weeks. The internet showed me some ad of an artist who photographed plain paper. Admittedly, it looked quite boring. I had no motivation, but I started with action.
Step 1
Paper ready. Tape ready. A white kitchen table, a north-facing window. No idea what to do. The first hundred pictures are absolutely unusable:
Step 2
I figure out that pointing the camera down doesn’t work in this setup. I thought it could be nice, but it isn’t. Photographing at a slanted angle with respect to the light, together with a darker background, seems more interesting. Still, there isn’t happening much in the next series of tries:
Step 3
I already had the aperture wide open, but I didn’t place the paper correctly. I figure out that it gets better if only the edge of the paper is in focus. Then, the rest of the paper creates attractive effects in light and shadow:
Step 4
I am lowering the angle – parallel to the surface of the table. Minimizing or preventing the reflection seems more tidy. I can also increase contrast by using a black fabric behind the paper. Finally, I am getting something I enjoy. I wipe the first SD card to start all over:
Step 5
Go closer, omit everything unnecessary, any distractions. Clean and simple.
Step 6
Some last experiments to keep in mind for the next session: Playing with the foreground and using multiple papers. Now, I am motivated:
Happy endings are pleasant. They are comfortable. They are liberating. They are desired. The good overcomes the bad, the mission is successful, there are flowers, firework, and love. People want happy endings. And sometimes, I do as well. It’s easy going and fun. All the hard pain pays off, the characters I rooted for achieve what they deserve, the reading experience is exhilarating. The ring gets finally destroyed, Voldemort is gone for good, and all the rest lived happily ever after. These stories are, and stay, fairy tales.
But, most often, those stories are not the ones that inspire me the most. Instead, it’s the other kind. The ones that do not end well. The ones that end how most things end: In chaos and hardship, and without loved ones. The stories that feel real. And it’s not because they do not portray happiness. It’s because how they portray happiness. In fairy tales, the happiness only comes in the end, after all bad is gone. But without an happy ending, the happiness has to be portrayed in between. During the struggle, despite the struggle, because of the struggle. They teach courage and perseverance. These stories are the ones that move me, move my heart, that have the potential to cause real change. Because there is no ever after. There is only now to find happiness.
Punkt im Dunkeln 