Gefunden

Ich ging im Walde
So für mich hin,
Und nichts zu suchen,
Das war mein Sinn.

Im Schatten sah ich
Ein Blümchen stehn,
Wie Sterne leuchtend,
Wie Äuglein schön.

Ich wollt es brechen,
Da sagt es fein:
Soll ich zum Welken
Gebrochen sein?

Ich grub's mit allen
Den Würzlein aus.
Zum Garten trug ich's
Am hübschen Haus.

Und pflanzt es wieder
Am stillen Ort;
Nun zweigt es immer
Und blüht so fort.

The Beauty in Math...

I don't see math in terms of numbers and letters.
There are no set methods for doing anything.
No memorization.
No vocabulary.
No superficial notation used to describe it to those who can't appreciate it's beauty.

Math is patterns.
Structures.
Colors.
Music.
First, music:
When I hear music, I don't hear the words and the sounds.
Instead I see swirls of colors.
Spirals and lines and dimensions.
Layers of colors and patterns that don't....can't exist in real life.
The images in my mind created by music astound and mystify me.
I see the structure of the music in terms of colors.
Overlaps and loops and organized confusion.

Think of music.
The sounds you hear.
What does it make you think of?
How do you visualize it?
Can you visualize it?

It took me until sixth grade to realize that if I described a sound as blue no one would understand.
It's the same way with math.
So I give you this analogy: think of what I describe as the way you hear music.
Pick your favorite Rachmaninov concerto or Bach symphonia.
Think of how you feel and what you 'see'.

This is how I see math.
But instead of the organized chaos of music.
The organized chaos of life.
I see the lines and patterns.
Organization of something that is already, by definition, organized.
Perfect infinite patterns that stretch on forever.
Iteration after iteration.
Deeper and deeper into abstraction.
These are all colors.
All these are are colors.
Bright, beautiful colors.

For those who think I'm a genius... I'm not.
I've just learned to use what I have.
I can 'make up' math, because I have an idea how it works.
There's patterns everywhere.
Most people just can't see them.
And if they can, they don't realize that that's why it's a pattern.
You can safely extrapolate on what you have and you'll get somewhere.
That's the idea of a pattern.
Just look at something.
And then keep looking.
On and on.
And then you're there.
At the end.
Or at least further from the beginning.

And when it gets confusing.
Just step back.
Take a look at the whole web you've built.
How you've gotten places.
How did you get there?
You followed a path.

So start making your own path.
That's all I do.
Just look down the path.
And if there's not one.
I make my own.

This is math.
Life is math.
Math is beautiful.
Take it how you will.

In a Mellow Tone

Yeah, sing it mellow
And people will listen and learn more,
Sweet and low,
The longer the road you go.
Each sound anybody's puttin' down's
Gotta be their very own,
In a mellow tone.
Light and fluffy as a cloud,
Never very loud...

Do your singin' sweet and mellow,
Seldom ever in a bellow,
And you're really gonna see:

Everything you say and everything you do
Is gonna hang around a little while,
Because it really is true,
And if you ever get blue,
'Cause I know I do,
And so do you,
I'll never worry a minute
'Cause I know,
Don't ya know?
The blues are multicolored
All dependin' how ya dig 'em
And dependin' on your outlook.

Well lemme see:
Weary blues,
Sad blues,
Bad blues,
False blues,
All kinds of blues,
Plenty of different kinds of hues,
Yeah sure but the only blue that we know is indigo....