#logarithmic spiral

[immortalconclusions]

Alpine fern

#logarithmic spiral #ferns

[blacklinesw9]

Check out this awesome 'logarithmic spiral' design on @TeePublic!

#logarithmic spiral #Bernoulli #spiral #spira mirabilis #maths #eadem mutata #resilience

[samwiselastname]

just started writing a post about how much I enjoyed having toast with basil pesto and coffee this morning and had to delete it because it was like 75% penis wakt

#you can tell I slept because we're back in 'logarithmic spiral of shitpost references' mode. abstract communication only in this house. #in this house. #oh shit. actually it's probably because it's 70° and my windows are open and I'm experiencing The Spring Symptoms

[cityandking]

thinking about ozy casting revivify for the first time in airedon (a place where resurrection magic is forbidden) but that spell having been something he's learned from daichi and all the weird circular reflexive learning-from-each-other things they've picked up without ever quite meeting in the middle

#ozy and daichi are some kind of logarithmic spiral thing #moving around each other always getting closer and closer and closer but will they meet? hard to say #anyway thinking about this and all the paladin spells dai would have watched ozy cast first and all that #the way every time they try to have a conversation it's kind of a nightmare but they're still out here carefully watching each other anyway #r: tbd #voidhopping campaign #daichi

[indigo--montoya]

logarithmic spirals are so shaped

#logarithmic spirals #indigo posts

[fractal-ramu]

#golden ratio #perfect spiral #golden spiral #logarithm spiral #abstract #cw bright colors #bright colors

[bethanythebogwitch]

If you asked me as a kid what my favorite animal was, there's a good chance I'd respond "chambered nautilus", though I probably would mispronounce it. I don't know if it's still my favorite but it's definitely up there in the pantheon of weird critters. For this Wet Beast Wednesday, I'll discuss my childhood favorite.

(image: a nautilus)

The nautilus is a cephalopod that lives in a curved shell and looks similar to (but is not closely related to) the extinct ammonites. There are 6 living species in two genera, but 90% of the time when someone is discussing nautiluses they are referring to the most well-known species: Nautilus pompilius or the chambered nautilus. Nautiloids are ancient, going back to at least the late triassic with their more primitive ancestors going back as far as the ordovician period, a time when only invertebrates and primitive plants occupied the land and true fish had not yet appeared. Because of their ancient history, nautiluses are sometimes considered living fossils. I have ranted before on how misleading the term "living fossil" is so I'll spare you that for now. Nautiloids are considered a sister group to the celoids, which contains all the squid, octopus, cuttlefish, and everything else we thinks of as cephalopods. Nautiluses should not be confused with paper nautiluses. Also called argonauts, paper nautiluses are a group of octopi that make an egg case which looks like a shell.

(image: a nautilus)

The most noticeable feature of a nautilus is its shell. The shell is smooth and finely curving, naturally growing in the shape of a logarithmic spiral (though not, as is commonly stated, a golden ratio spiral). The shell has a stripy outer layer and an inner layer coated with nacre. Internally, the shell is divided into camarae (chambers) separated from each other by walls called septa. Each septum has a small hole in it through which a strand of tissue called the siphuncle passes. Most of the nautilus's body is in the foremost and largest chamber. The shell grows new septa as the animal grows, with the nautilus's body moving to a new chamber as it becomes too large for previous ones. Juveniles are typically born with 4 septa, with adults having as many as 30. In addition to providing protection from predators, the shell is also key for regulating buoyancy. The septa can contain pressurized gas or water and the siphuncle regulates their contents by either adding or removing water to increase or decrease buoyancy. Because of its pressurized contents, the shell can only withstand pressure at depths up to 800 M (2,400 ft) before imploding. Oddly enough, nautiluses can be safely brought up from deep waters where most animals would be killed by the pressure changes. To move, the nautilus pulls water into the first chamber of the shell using its hyponome (siphon) and shoots it back out. The chambered nautilus is the largest species, with a maximum shell diameter of 25 cm (10 in), though most get no larger than 20 cm (8 in).

(image: a diagram of nautilus anatomy. source)

Where celoid cephalopods have tentacles, nautiluses instead have numerous cirri. Unlike tentacles, cirri are less muscular, are not elastic, and have no suckers. They are used to grab objects using their ridged surfaces and can hold in so hard that trying to take an object away from a nautilus can rip off its cirri, which will remain firmly attached. In addition, the nautilus has modified cirri that serve as olfactory receptors and a pair that serve to open and close the shell when the nautilus needs to retract into it or emerge. Nestled within the cirri is the beak, which is used to consume the nautilus's primary prey of invertebrates, though they have also been seen scavenging fish. Their eyes are less developed than most cephalopods, lacking a lens and consisting of a small pinhole that only allows the nautilus to see simple imagery. Their brains are differently structured than most cephalopods and studies have found them to have considerably shorter long-term memories.

(image: a chambered nautilus (upper left) next to a rare Allonautilus scrobiculatus. source)

Cephalopod reproduction is quite different than that of other cephalopods. While most cephalopods are short-lived and semelparous (reproducing only once), nautiluses can live over 20 years and reproduce multiple times (iteroparity). They do not reach sexual maturity until around 15 years old, with females laying eggs once per year. Eggs are attached to rocks and take 8 to 12 months to hatch. Males have a structure called the spadix composed of 4 fused cirri that they use to transfer sperm to females. Females lose their gonads after laying their eggs and will regenerate them for the next year's mating season. Interestingly, male nautiluses seem to vastly outnumber the females. EDIT: @bri-the-nautilus in the replies found an alternate explanation for the disparity in male and female numbers you should check out. TLDR; the females are asocial.

(image: nautiluses mating)

Nautiluses are found in the Indo-Pacific reagion of the ocean and can be found on the steep slopes of coral reefs. They prefer to inhabit waters several hundred meters down. It was once believed that they would rise to shallow waters at night to feed, lay eggs, and mate, but their vertical migration behavior has since been shown to be more complex than that. They have noon been fished by humans for their shells, which have become popular subjects in art and can be made into a number of decorative pieces. The nacre of the shell can be polished into osmeña pearl, which can be quite valuable. Demand for the shells combined with the late sexual maturity and low fecundity is threatening all the species. As of 2016, nautiluses have been added to the CITES Appendix II, making them protected by limiting international trade of their shells. Despite this, they are still threatened and require further protection

(image: a carved and painted nautilus shell from the Poldi Pezzoli Museum, Milan)

#wet beast wednesday #nautilus #chambered nautilus #cephalopod #marine biology #zoology #biology #ecology #animal facts

[389]

"Desert Breath", 1997 Danai Stratou, Alexandra Stratou and Stella Konstantinidis A colossal work of art covering 100,000 square meters in the Eastern Sahara of Egypt. It consists of two interlocking logarithmic spirals of 178 cones and is visible from space. She followed the project with the seven great rivers of the Earth, which arose after she recorded with her photographic lens the "grey zones" covering a distance of 30,000 kilometers. From Belfast to Nicosia, Mitrovica, Kashmir, Palestine, Batme and Tijuana, she presented documentaries touching on extremely topical issues such as borders, walls, population movements, etc.

View on Google Earth at coordinates: 27°22'54.59"N, 33°37'48.46"E 

#landscape #art #installation #earth #nature #sahara #desert #alexandra stratou #stella konstantinidis #daniel stratou #desert breath #u #z

[vestaignis]

Наутилус (лат. Nautilus) — род головоногих моллюсков, которых относят к «живым ископаемым». Самый распространенный вид — Nautilus pompilius. Наутилусы относятся к единственному современному роду подкласса наутилоидей. Первые предс��авители наутилоидей появились в кембрии, а его развитие пришлось на палеозой. Наутилиды почти вымерли на границе триаса и юры, но все же дожили до наших дней, в отличие от своих родственников аммонитов. Некоторые виды древних наутилусов достигали размера в 3,5 м. Представители самого крупного вида современных наутилусов достигают максимального размера в 25 см.

Спиральный «домик» моллюска состоит из 38 камер и «построен» по сложному математическому принципу (закон логарифмической прогрессии). Все камеры, кроме последней и самой большой, где размещается тело наутилуса с девятью десятками «ног», соединяются через отверстия между собой сифоном.  Раковина наутилуса двухслойная: верхний (наружный) слой – фарфоровидный – действительно напоминает хрупкий фарфор, а внутренний, с перламутровым блеском – перламутровый. «Домик» наутилуса растет вместе с хозяином, который перемещается по мере роста раковины в камеру попросторней. Пустое жилище моллюска после его гибели можно встретить далеко от его места обитания – после гибели «хозяина» их раковины остаются на плаву и перемещаются по воле волн, ветров и течений.

Интересно, что двигается наутилус «в слепую», задом наперед, не видя и не представляя препятствий, которые могут оказаться на его пути.И еще одно удивительное качество этих древних обитателей Земли – у них потрясающая регенерация: буквально через несколько часов раны на их телах затягиваются, а в случае потери щупальца быстро отрастает новое.

Nautilus is a genus of cephalopods, which are classified as "living fossils". The most common species is Nautilus pompilius. Nautilus belong to the only modern genus of the Nautiloid subclass. The first representatives of the Nautiloids appeared in the Cambrian, and its development took place during the Paleozoic. The Nautilids almost died out on the border of the Triassic and Jurassic, but still survived to the present day, unlike their Ammonite relatives. Some species of ancient Nautilus reached a size of 3.5 m. Representatives of the largest species of modern nautilus reach a maximum size of 25 cm.

The spiral "house" of the mollusk consists of 38 chambers and is "built" according to a complex mathematical principle (the law of logarithmic progression). All chambers, except the last and largest, where the nautilus body with nine dozen "legs" is located, are connected through holes with a siphon. The nautilus shell is two–layered: the upper (outer) layer – porcelain–like - really resembles fragile porcelain, and the inner, with a mother-of-pearl luster - mother-of-pearl. The nautilus's "house" grows with its owner, who moves as the shell grows into a larger chamber. The empty dwelling of a mollusk after its death can be found far from its habitat – after the death of the "owner", their shells remain afloat and move at the will of waves, winds and currents.

Interestingly, the Nautilus moves "blindly", backwards, without seeing or imagining the obstacles that may be in its path.And another amazing quality of these ancient inhabitants of the Earth is that they have amazing regeneration: in just a few hours, the wounds on their bodies heal, and in case of loss of tentacles, a new one grows quickly.

Источник:://t.me/+t0G9OYaBjn9kNTBi, /sevaquarium.ru/nautilus/, /habr.com/ru/articles/369547/, //wallpapers.com/nautilus, poknok.art/6613-nautilus-molljusk.html, //wildfauna.ru/nautilus-pompilius, /www.artfile.ru/i.php?i=536090.

#fauna #video #animal video #marine life #marine biology #nature #aquatic animals #cephalopods #Nautilus #nautilus pompilius #living fossils #ocean #benthic #coral #plankton #beautiful #animal photography #nature aesthetic #видео #фауна #природнаякрасота #природа #океан #бентосные #головоногие моллюски #Наутилус #живое ископаемое #коралл #планктон

[starryhutcherson]

clapton davis fic where hes just like, super flirty and its really cute and the reader is oblivious to this but eventually clapton is like "damn it why cant you get the hint" so he opens up to the reader?&;&:& tysmm

━━ UNSUBTLE SUBTILITY

'୧ ‧₊ pairing: clapton davis x reader warnings: swearing, brief depictions of blood word count: 2500+ ⋆ ✩‧₊

The presence of Spring in Grizzly Lake brought a lot of things; including sporadic bursts of heaven-yellow sunlight, greenery spiraled across branches of previously barren tree skeletons, and, most importantly for students of Grizzly Lake High School, the promise of the Spring Fling Formal that was set to occur in the midst of May. 

For Clapton, this prom meant one thing; achieving his goal that’s been looming over him since freshman year — ask you out. Theoretically it’s a simple process, but if it was truly as easy as it sounds it would have occurred the very moment his eyes landed on your figure that first day in beginner spanish. 

You were the embodiment of perfection, punctuated through your gleaming smile that enraptured anyone in a ten mile radius, and the way the sun seemed to spread across the expanse of your cheeks, soaking you in the rays of heaven itself. Clapton was about ready to propose that day, and he didn’t even know your name. 

Now, roughly two years later, he was still amidst the same dilemma, the one in which he actually had to do the asking-out part. He was sure by now you would have picked up on his inherently obvious attempts to entice you, but you remained oblivious, so he decided he’d have to fully commit if he wanted to capture your attention. The art of unsubtle subtility, if you will. 

And so, forty three minutes into the depths of an agonizingly dull pre-calculus lesson, he confidently taps your shoulder with a fractionally tense hand, and indulges the tug on his heartstrings when you turn around, framed by the delicate glow of mid-morning spring that he adores so much. 

“Something wrong, Clapton?” Your voice cleaves through the classroom ambience of idle chatter and textbook pages being flipped. He flashes a boyish smile in hopes to flutter your heart in the same way you flutter his. 

“Do you get any of these questions?” 

“Yeah, they’re not too bad,” you reply, offering an ephemeral that renders his throat tight. 

He glanced down momentarily at his worksheet, adorned in scrawls and scribbles, yet lacking a single legible answer. His vision trains up back to you though, as it always does. He thought you’d easily detect the unspoken question for your help, but you remained stationary in your seat, as if waiting for him to say it. He couldn’t tell if you were genuinely that heedless, or if you were toying with him. Cat and mouse. 

“Seriously? When did they even teach us all this?”

You shrug mindlessly, and a lock of hair shifts from its position on your shoulder. He’d give anything to rope his fingers through it. “A while back. Why, you need some help?” 

Yes. He’d like your help, your compassion, your hand in marriage…

“Wanna walk me through it?” He tosses you a hopeful expression, and you answer back with a simple nod, sliding your chair along the cheap linoleum floor with a scrape, until the pair of you are sharing his desk, impossibly close. 

Your velvet voice is stringing sentences right down the expanse of his spine, though your attempts to help him understand logarithmic differentiation were ultimately futile— how was he supposed to concentrate on anything when he could feel your words blooming on his skin? See every freckle and divot etched into your face? He could taste his own heartbeat as it melded against his throat.

“So, this helps to avoid complications like the product rule and the quotient rule when— Clapton?”

He cocks his head up, trying to ignore the swell in his stomach when he hears the way his name sounds braided between your sentences, it suits your voice so well.

“Yeah? What’s up?” 

“Are you even listening?”  

Shit, no he absolutely wasn’t. How could he? Your proximity allowed him to see you. Like, properly see you. 

“Yeah. Totally. Logaramic thingyation,” he murmurs with overt certainty, and a puppylike grin. 

You snicker. “Couldn’t even get the name right?” 

He’s internally collapsing, though he manages to force some words out of his struggling brain. 

“Hard to think when you’re here.” He doesn’t dare sever the eye contact between you, hoping to hone the tension as long as possible, until he shatters you. His lopsided grin shrinks in a moment of brevity; you’re so close and he can smell you and your very essence. He’s sure that his ulterior motive is conveyed, through the way his eyes explore the breadth of your figure, never leaving, never faltering— yet to his pure irritation, all he gets is a blank expression and a confused chuckle. 

“Why is that?” You ask, and he wants to grab you by your shoulders and shake you. Are you really that dense? Your face is about as expressive as a rock, and you seem not even partially affected by the flirty wink he sent your way moments prior. 

“You’re kidding, right? Come on.” He fires back, raising a brow with a daring smirk. He wants you to inquire. You don’t. He realizes that trying to get you to take a fucking hint was about as impossible as teaching him calculus. 

You force out an awkward laugh that makes his skin crawl with defeat, but he doesn’t back down. “Come on what?” 

He refrains from the urge to say “me”, and instead huffs a sharp exhale through his nose. He’s moments away from spouting some lame compliment when the shrill cry of the bell interrupts his train of thought, and a tide of students eject eagerly from their seats and spill out into the corridor for lunch. 

Your friend approaches the desk with a quirked brow, reaching for your arm and mumbling something into your ear that’s intelligible to Clapton, tugging on you to try and steer you away from the classroom. And from him. You nod in response to her comment, before momentarily glancing back over to Clapton.

“I gotta go, Clapton. See you soon though, see you in History!” You send him a parting wave with a gentle flick of your wrist, before turning off and disappearing down the long stretch of corridor beside the classroom. His eyes follow you for as long as possible before your figure is consumed by the wandering horde of students, and he lets a grumbly sigh escape his parted lips before he packs up his belongings. This was going to be harder than he anticipated. 

*:･.・゜゜・

Clapton’s second attempt at alluring you resulted in more or less the same outcome. He’d entered the cafeteria, instantly bathed in the overwhelming odor of lysol and lard. His prior plan was to grab a doctor pepper, maybe a sandwich, and head over to his typical table to talk a painfully uninterested Sander’s ear off about you, but he scrapped it upon spotting you waiting in the cafeteria line, immediately changing course and veering over in hopes of a successful conversation.

He cuts in front of an unsuspecting freshman, ignores the irritated “What’s your deal man?”, and ‘accidentally’ brushes up to you until your bodies knock, and you spin around in confusion. 

Your face mildly relaxes in recognition, and he takes this as progress.

 “Hey. Getting lunch?”

“What else would I be doing?” You ask. Swing and a miss. 

He clears his throat a fraction, not allowing this to throw him off his game. 

“I dunno, maybe you just really like standing in lines,” he teases, and you laugh back. 

“Especially if the line is for overpriced cafeteria food,” you add with a grin.

The pair of you share a laugh, and Clapton marvels at the fact that you can look so irresistible even in the harsh fluorescence of the cafeteria’s artificial lighting. The pair of you fall into a partially awkward silence, and he follows your line of vision, watching as you observe some students hanging a hand painted banner advertising prom for the entirety of the cafeteria to see. ‘Spring Fling Formal, get your tickets now!’ glistens in white gold lettering. He prays he can take the banner up on that offer. 

“Are you doing anything for it?” A bit of a jump from the casual conversation, but he was itching to entice you and couldn’t risk missing his chance. 

“Hm? For what?” His lips twitch into a gradually familiar downwards smile. “Prom,” he says, gesturing at the banner, obnoxiously pink in hue and decorated with scatterings of hastily painted daisies. 

“Oh. Maybe— I’m not sure, it’s kinda ages away.” Yup. An impossibly distant period of two weeks. Clapton’s jaw ticks uncomfortably at the prospect of the narrowing window of time. He can’t afford to screw this up.

“Right. Sure. Are you… interested in anyone in particular though?” He probes, hoping that you notice the searing spark of desperation that lingers in the loop of his irises.

“Eh. Not really. Are you?”

His ego suffers a blow at your total ignorance to his pining. He’s on the brink of combustion; unable to endure the cosmic irony of having you so close yet so far. He pictures you for the umpteenth time, glittering in a dress that matched your eyes and his tie. A slow dance to a Sting song, his eager hands situated either side of your waist. You’d stare up at him with a dazzled guise, illuminated by the scintillation of indigo disco lights, and his tongue would delve into yours as he soaked up the saccharine flavor of the fruit punch lingering on your lips. 

“Yeah.” He states bluntly, staring at you as if you hung each and every star. “Yeah, I’m interested in someone.” 

You raise a brow. “Oh yeah? Who?”

He clears his throat. “Someone special. Someone super special.”

“You should ask them!” “Easier said than done,” he chuckles humorlessly. 

Your lips part as you go to investigate further, but are interrupted by the scowl of the lunch lady barking at you for your order. He notes it, mac and cheese plus a diet sprite— you’re handed it moments later, and your vision is torn from him and towards your small circle of friends seated across the cafeteria, who are waving you down. You’re gonna leave again? 

“I better go sit down, but, uh, you should definitely ask that person to prom. Be upfront and everything. Y’know, you only live once, and all that, right?” 

He swears he’s going to implode at the unbridled irony of this entire situation. Be upfront. He’s been upfront! 

“You know it,” he quips weakly as you slink away. 

He’s been showering you in signals for months, and you’d always abandon them, his attempts for your acknowledgement left festering as sour memories in his head, things that made him roll over with shame in bed at night, and all for what?

He brainlessly orders his doctor pepper with a monotone grumble, feeling the frigid prick of the can’s condensation gather in his palm as he wonders what the hell it’s gonna take for you to take a damn hint. 

*:･.・゜゜・

After yet another failed interaction, Clapton had spent the span of the rest of the week stripping his words to the marrow. Every conversation he indulged in with you involved his inner thoughts spouted in their rawest form— cocky compliments, lingering touches, looks of intense pining and yet somehow you continued to miss them. Every. Last. One. 

He was nearing his wits end, teetering on the cliff of insanity and seconds away from taking the plunge. Maybe he was the one who needed to take a hint. Maybe you were trying to tell him that you weren’t interested and he wasn’t giving it up. It was a sickening notion, one that thrashes wildly in his stomach. He didn’t know much, but he did know that he’d never be satisfied until he knew your stance on him for certain.  

He was just gonna say it. 

In hindsight, it wasn’t Clapton’s smartest move to deliver the question in the midst of a dodgeball game, but his thoughts were warped and he decided now was as good as ever. His voice was barely even audible beside you over the screech of tennis sneakers scraping the gym floor and the continuous sound of rubber balls coming into contact with student flesh. 

“Hey!” He exclaims. 

“Hey?” You say back, turning to him momentarily. Yet again, he wonders how you do it. Hair blown back effortlessly, skin glistening with a fragile sheen of moisture that is hardly off-putting, if doing something it aids to soften your otherworldly glow. Meanwhile, he was panting like an old dog, hair matted to his forehead in sodden chunks beneath his obnoxious sweatband. 

“I needa ask you something!” It’s sink or swim. His teeth graze the inside of his cheek for a moment, his gaze varying between you and the opposing court, to prevent a dodgeball to the head. 

“Yeah?” Sink or swim sink or swim sink or swim. “What’s up?” He melts at the sight of your semi-breathless smile.

“Are you still dateless? Like, to prom?”

Your forehead creases, and you return the sideways glance. “Um, yeah. Why?”

With a delayed exhale that rings heavy in the pits of his lungs, he turns his entire body to face you, which in turn makes you face him as well. 

“Look, I’ve been trying to say this for months. Well, not months. Maybe weeks. Whatever– point is, it’s been a while. Like seriously, a long fucking time. And I swear I’ve been so obvious, but clearly not obvious enough because you’re still, like, totally unaware or whatever. But, like, basically, I was wondering— I’ve been wondering if—” “Clapton!” You exclaim hurriedly, splintering his stammered sentence in an instant. He barely has time to cast his visage front on, before a dodgeball with an extremely strayed trajectory soars gracefully through the current of the air and hits Clapton square in the face. Guess he wasn’t paying enough attention after all. 

An expletive leaves his lips, muffled by the wail of your gym teacher’s whistle. His head is temporarily a warped whirlwind resembling TV static, though the feeling fades fairly quickly.

You turn to him in a mild panic, noting the faint trickle of glossy crimson that has started to spill from his nose. “Holy shit! You’re bleeding! Lemme take you to the nurse.” 

He can’t help but twist his lips up to form a slight smirk as you place a worried hand on his bicep. The touch scars on his nerves, your fingers like an angel’s caress. 

In all honesty, he feels fine, but you offered to take him to the nurse— was he going to give up that delightful invitation? No. He was not. 

The pair of you are excused from the gym, trekking down the hallway in an atmosphere of silence so thick it’s practically tangible. Upon arrival at the nurse, Clapton’s seated in a shitty plastic chair, holding a paper towel held to his nose and tipping his head slightly backward. He couldn’t believe that his one chance of actually spitting his desperate question out was interrupted by a stray dodgeball. A goddamn stray dodgeball. 

You linger in the doorframe, taut as a coiled spring. The nurse, underpaid and painfully unsympathetic, leaves the pair of you once she deems Clapton to be ‘good enough’, in her exact words. 

You approach him, taking the scarlet-spotted tissue and holding it to his face for him, a gesture which turns his insides in on themselves. 

“Hey Clapton? What were you saying before?”

Shit. 

“What?” He croaks gutturally, trying and failing to play dumb. He knew damn well what he was saying. Prom with him. 

“You were asking me something. Before you got, y’know, obliterated by a flying dodgeball.”

He snickers feebly, even if for a moment. “Oh, yeah.”

You open your eyes wider as if to say, “Well?”

The climate in the room seems to sink heavier, cradling the scent of antiseptic and drying blood. Clapton’s words fizzle out on his tongue no matter which way he arranges them in his head, but he knows he just has to get it out—- rip off the band-aid, break the ice, all of that. 

His eyes, big and wide and drinking in your face so dangerously close to his, melt into an unmistakable question. He counts himself down in his head. Now or never. 

“Prom. I was asking if you wanna go to prom.” He takes a staggered breath. “With me, I mean.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

The genuine beam you erupt in subsequent to his words is enough to ease his nerves. It’s enough to make him soar, actually. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” That wasn’t a no. That wasn’t a no. His heart hurts with hope. 

“I tried to. You’re just… you kinda suck at taking hints.” He chuckles. 

You roll your eyes, picturing every moment leading up to this one that you spent with him. Upon further reflection—- yeah. Yeah, you clearly did. People don’t look at friends the way he looked at you.

“Shit, I kinda definitely do,” you murmur. 

He doesn’t let the quiet last long.

“So…?”

“Oh. Right, yeah. Clapton, I’d love to go to prom with you.”

The smile he wears is irresistibly contagious. Finally. Finally. Two long years of craving you; two years of memorizing every quirk and curve and contour. He knows it’s sort of ridiculous to get so elated about some forgettable high school dance, but the image he can see so vividly in his head; the lights and the dress and the swarm of butterflies that comes with your killer smile… it’s worth every awkward exchange, every word that’s fallen on deaf ears.

“Seriously?” He asks, reaching for your hand and wallowing in the way you so brainlessly accept the touch.

“Seriously.”

“Good. You won’t regret it.” 

And something inside you tells you that he’s absolutely right. 

reminder, my requests are always open

masterlist

✩‧₊˚

#clapton davis #clapton davis x reader #clapton davis x you #josh hutcherson #detention 2011 #clapton davis x reader fluff #clapton davis fluff #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt fluff #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson imagine

[blacklinesw9]

Check out this awesome 'Bernoulli Spiral: eadem mutata resurgo' design on @TeePublic!

#logarithmic spiral #bernoulli #eadem mutata #resurgo #Descartes #spira mirabilis #spiral #maths #mathematics

[apod]

2024 April 6

Unwinding M51 Image Credit & Copyright: Data - Hubble Heritage Project, Unwinding - Paul Howell

Explanation: The arms of a grand design spiral galaxy 60,000 light-years across are unwound in this digital transformation of the magnificent 2005 Hubble Space Telescope portrait of M51. In fact, M51 is one of the original spiral nebulae, its winding arms described by a mathematical curve known as a logarithmic spiral, a spiral whose separation grows in a geometric way with increasing distance from the center. Applying logarithms to shift the pixel coordinates in the Hubble image relative to the center of M51 maps the galaxy's spiral arms into diagonal straight lines. The transformed image dramatically shows the arms themselves are traced by star formation, lined with pinkish starforming regions and young blue star clusters. Companion galaxy NGC 5195 (top) seems to alter the track of the arm in front of it though, and itself remains relatively unaffected by this unwinding of M51. Also known as the spira mirabilis, logarthimic spirals can be found in nature on all scales. For example, logarithmic spirals can also describe hurricanes, the tracks of subatomic particles in a bubble chamber and, of course, cauliflower.

∞ Source: apod.nasa.gov/apod/ap240406.html

[ton-618-ton-618]

2024 April 6

Unwinding M51

Image Credit & Copyright: Data - Hubble Heritage Project, Unwinding - Paul Howell

Explanation: The arms of a grand design spiral galaxy 60,000 light-years across are unwound in this digital transformation of the magnificent 2005 Hubble Space Telescope portrait of M51. In fact, M51 is one of the original spiral nebulae, its winding arms described by a mathematical curve known as a logarithmic spiral, a spiral whose separation grows in a geometric way with increasing distance from the center. Applying logarithms to shift the pixel coordinates in the Hubble image relative to the center of M51 maps the galaxy's spiral arms into diagonal straight lines. The transformed image dramatically shows the arms themselves are traced by star formation, lined with pinkish starforming regions and young blue star clusters. Companion galaxy NGC 5195 (top) seems to alter the track of the arm in front of it though, and itself remains relatively unaffected by this unwinding of M51. Also known as the spira mirabilis, logarthimic spirals can be found in nature on all scales. For example, logarithmic spirals can also describe hurricanes, the tracks of subatomic particles in a bubble chamber and, of course, cauliflower.

#astronaut #astronomers #not astrology #star #stars #art #astronomy #outer space #space #artist #hubble space telescope #nasa #galaxy #galaxies #NGC 5195 #clusters

[ell-arts]

PMATGA Headcanons: Surnames

This thing has been a headscratcher for as long as I have been a fan of the show. Or it might be just me-

But I've always struggled to imagine what some of the characters' surnames/last names could be. Especially the main trio. Mostly because it's tricky to come up with surnames that would fit them, and something in line with the show's running theme of naming things after geometry or character-specific quirks.

We know that Stratos' last name is Spheros (derived from stratosphere) and thus it's also Betrayus' surname. We know of Mr Strictler, who only revealed his surname and never his first name, so we can deduce that Sherry's last name is Strictler (she's his daughter). Then there's Mr Dome, Ms Globular, Sir Cumference, etc. But other than these characters, we never really heard of any other surnames mentioned in the show.

There is Spheria Suprema, and hey it could be probable that that is her surname, but I'm leaning a bit more towards the idea that it's her celebrity name/Pac-Pong champion title/nickname rather than her actual given surname. The chances of Spheria being given a name that rhymes with a descriptive title such as 'Suprema' at birth is a little slim if you ask me (this is just my rationalisation, don't come at me xD)

So that leaves us with the rest of the cast. I've seen some really creative attempts from the fandom to give the characters their surnames. So much so that I can't really come up with any good ones in comparison xD

But hey, these are the best I could come up with, along with some headcanons or reasons for why I chose them. Subject to change!

-

Pac Orbon (Yellow Orbs, duh...)

Cylindria Eden (based on the Garden of Eden, and sounds hippy-ish)

Spiral Logarith (based on the logarithmic spiral in math)

Elliptica Spheros (her mother kept her last name)

Sir Perimet Cumference (his first name is based on perimeter (of a circle), which can be shortened to 'Peri' but he still prefers 'Sir C')

Trayus Rotundin Spheros (he changed it to Betrayus Sneakerous Spheros as part of his rebellion-turned-revolt)

Zac Orbon (again, yellow orbs...)

Sunny Orbon (maiden name was Sunny Solari - a play on sol and solar, from the sun - which is also round and yellow)

Spheria Solari (tends to go by Spheria Suprema, her celebrity name, since that's what many people know her as)

Specter Eidolon (greek for 'idol' or 'phantom')

Blinky "Shadow" Scarlos (based on 'scarlet')

Inky "Bashful" Whimson (based on 'whimsical')

Pinky "Speedy" Chacier (Old French for "chase/hunt")

Clyde "Pokey" Oren (just based on orange, but can also have different meanings depending on the language)

[The Ghost Gang's names are a combination of lore that I've found relating to the original Pac-Man games. For example, Inky's original name in the retro games was Bashful, and his Japanese name is kimagure, which means 'whimsical', hence Whimson.]

#pmatga #pacman and the ghostly adventures #pmatga headcanon #pacster #cylindria #spiral #betrayus #zac #sunny #spheria suprema #ghost gang #inky #blinky #pinky #clyde #specter

[pwlanier]

SPINY AMMONITE

Crioceras Nolani

Cretaceous, Hauterivian, 129–132 million years

Alpes de Haute-Provence, France

39 × 43 cm (without stand)

Ammonites are an extinct group of cephalopods that were very rich in form. There are 1500 known genera of ammonites. Thanks to their variety of forms ammonites are a popular collector's item. Their shell – rolled up in the manner of a logarithmic spiral – recalls that of a snail, but this is not the case with all ammonites. The species Crioceras Nolani has a flat, spiral shell, where no coil is in contact with the other.

Why the shape developed in this way is unknown. Possibly this species lived in the benthic zone at the lowest level of the sea, so there was no need for a shell suitable for swimming. The spines decorating the animal's shell served as protection for the ammonite, which was either sedentary or could only move slowly on the sea floor.

Koller

[talonabraxas]

The Yogic Yang Spiral Meditation

The aim of the yang spiral meditation is to bring into awareness of the participants the presence of Cosmic Consciousness and to be part of the worldwide efforts of raising the consciousness of the planet and of entering into a superior stage of evolution of humankind.

The Yin-Yang Concept

Everything that exists in the Universe is polarized, i.e., formed of yang-solar (+) and yin-lunar (-).

The presence of these complementarily opposed counterparts creates a tension. From this tension, Life is born. For maintaining the tension (therefore, life), one of the poles must predominate. This predominance leads to movement, change, transformation.

The two poles of the manifestation are contained in a tremendously big circle that keeps them together (in the above drawing, the exterior circle should be extremely big, but considerations of space makes this unpractical in this material). This symbolizes the existence of a Transcendental Principle that controls and dominates from a higher level. Only in this way Creation is possible. If the Transcendent Principle wouldn’t compel the two poles to stay together, they would return into Unity, Invisibility, Non-manifestation.

Each polarity contains, in seed, its opposite, which means that everything is relative. Everything, in some deep, mysterious way, is his opposite. Every moment of life includes, somehow, qualities diametrically opposed to those apparently implied. It is well known the truth of the original androgyny (having male and female characteristics in one) of the human being. By virtue of this, the balance between male (+) and female (-) hormones, condition sine-qua-non of life, is possible in all humans irrespective of sex.

Man is predominantly Solar; his seed (the semen) is Lunar (-). Woman is predominantly Lunar (-); her seed (the ova) is Solar (+). Thus, tai-ki is a perfect symbolic synthesis of Universe and Man, defining in a masterly manner the essence of Yoga Science. The representation of the two poles, the Solar (+) and the Lunar (-), as being equal is an idealistic point of view. A perfect balance leads to absence of tension, hence non-manifestation. In the manifested worlds, there always is and must be a predominant pole. The state of power appears when the two poles are very close to a perfect balance. A strong lack of balance between them results in weakness, suffering, illness, lack of self-control and lack of power.

Another important aspect is that yang is centripetal (it proceeds toward a center or axis) and moves in energy vortexes that turn counterclockwise, while yin is centrifugal (it proceeds away from a center or axis) and moves in energy vortexes that turn clockwise. Yang is the principle of order, structure, decrease of entropy. Yin is the principle of chaos, lack of structure, increase of entropy.

The spiral is charged with multiple symbolic meanings. Many of these meanings include the dynamic interaction between yin and yang.

The yang-spiral expresses the luminous, solar, dynamic and optimistic energy. When moving along the arm of this spiral in a counterclockwise sense, it is just natural to reach the center, which represents the Source of Creation from which everything that exists started and to which it will return.

The yang-spiral thus represents the circular centripetal movement of returning to the Center. The yang-spiral is related to the movement of spiritual evolution leading to liberation from the cycle of reincarnations, while the yin-spiral is related to the movement of involution and chaining to the reincarnation wheel, since it gets further away from the Center.

The spiral is often seen in nature: the snail shell is a well known example. The symbolism of the spiral is scientifically funded by the mathematical theory of the logarithmic spiral and of the Golden Number, or Fibonacci series. This Golden Number was discovered by the Italian mathematician Leonardo Fibonacci (c. 1170 – c. 1240), also called Leonardo of Pisa.

Fibonacci numbers have many interesting properties and are widely used in mathematics. Natural patterns, such as the spiral growth of leaves on some trees, often exhibit the Fibonacci series. A corollary of this is the well-known fractal structures and the discovery of fractal geometry. --Gregorian Bivolaru

'Celestial Lovers' Tao Teh King Talon Abraxas