Valentine's Day of the Dead (Part II) (Completed 6/16/26)

A rosy Ace of Spades playing card with a 3 pence royal duty stamp - c. 1868 (?) -
possibly designed by artist and architect Owen Jones; printed and distributed by Thomas De La Rue & Co., London.

"With this in mind, I had an epiphany. I envisioned a white rose opening in the center of the spade symbol... so clearly that I was sure I had seen it before. And, it began to haunt me the way the Rose Pentacle haunted me in the early days."

- Quoting myself from Part I of this series in which I intuited a symbol representing the weird synergy presented by Friday the 13th, normally an ominous day, transitioning into Valentine's Day, the official day of love and friendship; a rare occurrence and an odd conjunction... the spade as an inverted heart, and vice versa.

Of course, my first inclination at the time was to interpret it in a darkly romantic way... a deathless (or clandestine) love kind of way. And, while I wasn't exactly wrong, I found clues to inform me that, relative to our Kafkaesque times, I was missing the greater picture. I was overlooking the shadows.

In any case, I did eventually find an image of a white rose in the center of an Ace of Spades. (See  above). This occurred in the midst of a constellation of synchronicities, a few of which I discuss on PMB in the post Hidden Synchronicities (of the Memetic Kind).

The image wasn't quite what I envisioned - the rose was much too large and clearly it's context was strictly an official one. But, it was intriguing nonetheless... a rosy spade surrounded by thistles and clover. Only later did I find that this trinity of plants is a reference to the British Flower badge, a heraldic device which symbolizes the union of England (Tudor rose), Ireland (shamrock) and Scotland (thistle). Sometimes Wales is also represented... by a leek, or a daffodil. Inset left is the Badge of the Yeoman of the Guard.

But, there's more. Because I found the coveted white rose/Ace of Spades symbol quite unexpectedly... in the Wiki entry for a 19th century British card maker, Richard Harding, in spite of the fact that the image was first printed by Thomas de la Rue long after Harding's death. That beng said, it was within the tale of Richard Harding that I found The Shadow.

Harding's was a rather strange, gothic story. It began in eighteenth century England with a tax levied on playing cards.

"Initially duty was paid and a random card in the pack was hand stamped to show it had been paid, but in 1765 the Ace of Spades was given a special design and designated as the card on which duty would be shown as paid.

The Ace of Spades was stamped using a metal plate and designed to be hard to copy – hence it’s detailed features."

But, apparently it was not too hard to copy... and Richard Harding got away with it for quite awhile.

He rented some space in a building owned by a certain Mr. Skeleton in order to carry out his "nefarious business." And, really, if this were a spooky movie, you might consider yourself forewarned.

While Mr. Skeleton did initially claim ignorance of Harding's forgery operation, "this, however, was cast into doubt when 2,000 aces of spades were found in his home." 

Harding also had a daughter. More cards were found at the bottom of her laundry basket... "money laundering" ? Anyway, this is all we know about Ms. Harding... and ditto for Mr Skelton. It's a very short story.

Suffice to say, Harding was tried and found guilty of a capital offense at London's Old Bailey, and on November 13, 1805, he - “a genteel looking man, powdered and dressed in black” - was executed by hanging, very possibly at the notorious Newgate Prison. He was 35 years old.

"His remains were at St George Hanover Square Burial Ground in Bayswater until 12 March 1969, when he - and others - were removed to Lambeth and cremated."

The upshot being that less than 30 years later (1832) the Forgery, Abolition of Punishment of Death Act was enacted, abolishing the death penalty for all offences of forgery, except for forging wills and certain powers of attorney.

This, however, did not remove the stain from the Ace of Spades, and to this day it maintains a sinister reputation.

•

Source material for this section was also found in Death by Hanging, and the BBC's The man hanged for printing his own ace of spades.

Inset left: A tarot card depicting the Hanged Man (Le Pendu), the 12th key of the Major Arcana from the "Gringonneur" deck.

(This post continues below the break...)

Beltane, 2026 (Revised May 11, 2026)

 

(May 2, 2026 - I always associate Beltane with the symbol of the rose pentacle now. I would've liked to post a photo of a cast piece of my own design here, and I would have, if one existed. Alas, no. That project has been stalled for, at least, 2 years.

However, I did find the GIF above - with a pentagram inside a circle, accented with a spray of five roses - which we can consider an interpretation of the more traditional rose pentacle symbol.

It was found in this collection. I am unsure of it's maker but, it goes without saying, it's very nice!)

(5/15: Note the tension between the pentagram and the roughly pentagonal spray of flowers. Doesn't it feel like they're straining to come together?)

•

"Also known as Cétshamhain ('first of summer'), it marked the beginning of summer and was when cattle were driven out to the summer pastures. Rituals were performed to protect cattle, people and crops, and to encourage growth. Special bonfires were kindled, whose flames, smoke and ashes were believed to have protective powers."

- From the Wiki entry for Beltane, it would seem that for the early Celts and Germanic people, the first of May and the beginning of summer was a very beautiful and, yet, vulnerable time of the year. The world had come back to life and rituals were performed, not only to celebrate that life but to nourish and protect that life from harm.

•

“In the face of so much destruction of the natural world and so much disregard for life, Beltane is also an act of rebellion against the status quo. It says about us–as simple people, as a growing community–that we don’t give in to the death cycles imposed on us from Away, not in this season. We plant and know that the harvest comes – not in the stately march from Lughnasadh to Samhain but bit by bit and day by day."

- Byron Ballard, from Summer is Come, sourced from the wonderful Beltane page at Wild Hunt, as is the following quote and the Walter Crane illustration below, inset left.

•

"The flesh is understood to be the place where evil resides and from which torment wreaks havoc upon the mind. The flesh is temporary, so it must be trivial. The flesh will not remain, so we must not give it credence. The flesh will pass unto the earth, rot in the ground, turn into dust. We are told again and again to dismiss the flesh. But Whitman says, ‘And your very flesh shall be a great poem.’ Yes. Our very flesh shall be a great poem. That is the message I’d like to offer on Beltane.”

- From Beltane 2013: The Great Poetry of Flesh by Teo Bishop (Matthew Morris).

***

A very nice Wheel of the Year found (for sale) at Maine Corner.

(May 3, 2026)

I enjoy the Sabbats. There's, undeniably, a special energy in the air on those days; a kind of clarity. Time seems to savor these days; it moves more slowly, stretching just a fraction, but, enough to experience a sense of unity... with the Earth, with your past, and with the very long past we know as "tradition."

Maybe all holidays do that; act as milestones.

April 30th (May Eve) - May 1st (May Day) is a holiday that emerged in Celtic and Germanic Europe: the Celtic Beltane or the Germanic Walpurgisnacht. Apart from it's pagan, Earth-religion elements the holiday is, in the Christian tradition, marked by May devotions to the Virgin Mary and the Saint Walpurga.**

It is also an official holiday in Europe; similar to the American Labor Day. International Worker's Day in the States is celebrated by rallies held across the nation for working class Americans. As you might expect, the gatherings were massive this year. Inset left is a May Day tribute to "the workers" by English illustrator Walter Crane. Crane's work often is orchestrated with the movement of the pentagonal Golden Spiral. Can you find it in this image? (Hint: start with the triangle.)

The full "Flower" moon rose over the Sandias on the evening of May Day. It was a pale, lemony rose color... crisp and bright, before it was made spooky by a transparent plume of clouds. A second full moon will rise May 31st. The month of May is virtually bracketed by full moons. I think there's a message here: the time is ripe to banish our bogeymen and truly come back to life.*** We've got the whole month. Get moving. ;-)

Here's to a merry month of May! 💮

(Footnotes appear below the jump.)

Just another mad, mad day

"I got silence on my radio

Let the air waves flow, let the air waves flow

Oh, I'm sleeping under strange, strange skies

Just another mad, mad day on the road

My dreams are fading down the railway line

I'm just about a moonlight mile down the road"

- Lyrics from Moonlight Mile, 1970, credited to Mick Jagger and Mick Taylor; released on the album Sticky Fingers. The video was found on this Rolling Stones' channel.

I rarely feel nostalgic most days... figuring what's gone is gone (for the most part) and, in the last analysis, the (alleged) "good old days" were never all that good. But, every now and then, some old tune pops up out of nowhere and takes me back to a less complicated time in the long past when merely being alive seemed to be enough. Yes, I was very young then. But, in ways, I knew my priorities far better then than I do now.

I never saw the Stones do a live version of this traveler's tune. But, hearing it again kind of soothed my "savage beast." Maybe it'll soothe yours, too.

Namaste.

(Blogger's note - April 29, 2026: Yes, I realize Valentine's Day of the Dead (Part II) is long overdue, but I am continuously interrupted these days with topics I am compelled to address. One recent topic has just been investigated on Post-Mac Blues: The Mar-a-lago Messiah - reverse engineering a hazardous meme. Also, I will be cross-posting the Day of the Dead story and the first installment is likely to be found on PMB.)

Coming Back to Life (Revised)

A Pentagonal Movement (and a reposted image)

She was once a real person with a real sort of life. However, like real people everywhere, she eventually died.

But, that wasn't the end of it.

Because, particles of her presence survived in one magical image a renowned master craftsman had once devised; a craftsman who knew well the essence of life. And, although the girl sat quite still for her portrait, the master painted a nuance of amusement in her mouth and eyes; a strange animation.

As it was, the craftsman was an old, funny kind of guy. It was difficult not to laugh outright at his humor. And, it was this laughter he captured in the sparkle of her eye. She was bubbling with merriment, and, so, she would remain.

As it happened, the image, (with it's sparkle) would outlast both the girl and the crafty, old master and, in time, would attract millions of spectators from all around the world... who came to gaze at this forever-girl as she sat, mysteriously and motionless in her special place upon the wall.

Hundreds of years would pass; each day the same... the golden light, the shadows, the frozen folds of her gown... the stiff pose of her lifeless hands and the unwavering line of her mouth. Oh, how she longed to lift her arms again and wiggle her fingers. And, how desperately she needed to release the laugh she'd held inside for so many years.

Then, one spring day, while no one was looking, there was a movement in the painting.

Perhaps, it had been stirring inside the brush strokes all along.

And, she came back to life like a spring unwinding... for one uninterrupted moment in time. Just like that.

So, is it that joy lasts forever... and laughter will out? Or, are there loopholes in the way things are made... and/or recorded? Who can say?

The wise plant seeds. :-)

(The adorable GIF featured in the post is AI created and was sourced from Tenor.)

A (Belated) Valentine's Day of the Dead Interlude (complete)

(March 4, 2025. No one is more sorry than I that this post has been so stalled this past week. In my defense, the Spade symbol is the heaviest and most complex I have ever encountered. More importantly, geometrically, the Spade is a pentagonal construction, and, come to find out, an important - although hidden - element of the Golden Meme. And, in the context of current events, a Key. Bear with me. Information will be posted continuously until completion. 🌺DS)

The White Rose & the Ace of Spades

A white rose ghosted over a darkened plane

is a sigil of love transformed.

Yes, even the darkest of shapes,

the Ace of Spades,

- a black heart impaled on a single thorn -

can't hide the light of its central, star-like eye

which, in the dead of night,

 opens and closes.

- 2026, DS. (revised March 2, 2026)

Rosa Mystica

***

"The story of St Valentine’s Day begins with some unknown medieval birdwatchers, probably in France rather than England, who reckoned that birds begin mating in mid-February, and decided to give this a precise date: 14 February. (They may have followed some folk tradition – in Slovenia this is still said to be the first day of spring, when plants start growing, and birds mate.) As was normal at that period, they expressed the date as the feast-day of a saint; in the Catholic Church every day in the year celebrates at least one saint, and for a public who had no printed calendars it was easier to remember dates by names than by figures. It happens that 14 February is dedicated to one or other of two early Roman martyrs, both named Valentinus, believed to have died on that date."

- Via an article from the Folklore Society.

 Possibly the sweetest thing about Valentine's Day is that it likely began with the recognized mating habits of birds... avian love... the kind of love everybody can celebrate. The martyrdom of saints, however, is an element we might want to dismiss. Well, most of us anyway.

February 26, 2026,

Perhaps, I should explain.

The poem, The White Rose & the Ace of Spades, was initiated days ago... specifically 13 days ago, on Friday the 13th... which, as it happened, fell on Valentine's Day Eve this year (2026). Apparently, the last time this "holiday" conjunction occured was in 2015. The next occurs in 2032.

I see now that it was extensively joked about on social media prior to the event with many mashups involving Jason from the slasher film franchise Friday the 13th, with a few Goth-inspired offerings announcing Darkwave raves. Somebody even made up a new holiday: Valloween! Gotta love it.

To add to our dark pleasures, the latest remake of Wuthering Heights premiered this Valentine's Day raking in billions of $$$. "Wuthering Heights" (with apostrophes) is (allegedly) heavily erotic... which could be a good thing. But, Catherine Earnshaw has been morphed into the requisite, vulnerable blonde and, being more or less a WH purist, I find this as problematic as I would a blond Heathcliff. Obviously, I've yet to see the movie though, so, no review is forthcoming. However, the review I linked to had this to say: "So essentially what we're getting at is that Wuthering Heights is a smutty fan fiction fever dream written by a 14-year-old."

In other words, it can't be all that bad! ;-)

In any case, something tells me that the darkly romantic Love-Beyond-Death meme is in full swing this year, so allow me to elucidate...

(Elucidation lies below the jump) ;-)

The Subtle Anarchy of Fuzz Culture

 

Interestingly, many of the creatively gifted individuals mentioned by the creatively gifted Arsh Sharma, a musician, during the course of his spot-on exposé were not merely artists, but what we can refer to as pathologically creative artists, thinkers and musicians. Van Gogh, Baudelaire, Poe, Nina Simone... men and women who were so consumed by their creative flames, that their attention to their own survival was compromised. In a sense, the pathologically "gifted" are often savants, unable to successfully maneuver through the maze of the official world while absorbed in exploring dimensions of experience outside of the official playbook. That their visionary explorations - dismissed in their own time - were eventually appreciated (and capitalized upon) by those of future generations is an ironic twist. While it lends the artists a kind of immortality, in societies in which commerce is king, money trumps all (pun inevitable). In other words, when money talks, the world listens. Well, that is, apart from the dead artists... who are unlikely to hear the "ka-ching," and,  like the anonymous meek, have inherited little more than a silent, earth-filled grave.

But, Arsh Sharma takes the tragic artist meme one step further, in that, he proposes the artist's plight arose from the subtle antagonism society felt towards those mad members of the creative sector. And, he makes a good point. He has certainly has created the nucleus of a more thorough investigation into this unfortunate element of art history and culture and the ways in which it effects us today.

Fuzz Culture features a number of unique, alternative essays in video form. This one - redefining the word delusional - is one of my favorites. But, don't miss The Real Reason Artists Create (And Can’t Stop).

Thank you, Fuzz Culture; your insight is most welcome in a world which has somehow lost its way - and is desperately trying to find it!

***

On a related note, we have more artist/madness material from Big Think:

Did Friedrich Nietzsche’s own philosophy drive him insane?

"A number of studies have shown that creative people are twice as likely to suffer from conditions like depression and anxiety compared to the general population. At the same time, the rate and intensity of these symptoms vary depending on outlet or discipline, with poets and writers proving more likely to suffer from disorders than, for example, scientists."

This is a very interesting article for the most part, but the paragraph above presents data that is fairly elementary. That poets should tend to suffer from anxiety and depression more than scientists is not terribly mysterious. Scientists generally work within established professional and academic structures, often funded by governments, the military, Big Pharma, and various medical institutions. Take that security away - and MAGA is doing it's very best - and I think you'll find many more depressed, anxiety-stricken scientists.

The Transdimensional Moment (revised & completed 1/1/2026

 

Timestamp: December 15, 2025 - 4:08 pm. Cellphone photo, DS.

"I’ll walk where my own nature would be leading:

It vexes me to choose another guide:

Where the gray flocks in ferny glens are feeding;

Where the wild wind blows on the mountain side.

What have those lonely mountains worth revealing?

More glory and more grief than I can tell:

The earth that wakes one human heart to feeling

Can centre both the worlds of Heaven and Hell."

- An excerpt from an untitled poem written by the perennially relevant, 19th century British poet and author, Emily Brontë in 1846. Read the full poem here.

(December 31, 2025, 8:00 PM.)

I am presently watching a beautiful twilight sky here in Albuquerque during this final daylight hour of the year 2025. Not quite as beautiful as the clouds I found earlier in December (in a similar timeframe), when the photo (above), and, specifically, the cloud (below) were taken. (Note: All 4 cloud formations in this post share the same tree.)

Timestamp: December 15, 2025 - 4:58 pm. Cellphone photo, DS.

The moon, which almost seems strangely full - strangely, because (I swear) it was in its new phase only 3 or 4 days ago - is nested in a pale puff of clouds. Then again, somewhere else in the world or outside of it, the moon is full, depending upon our hypothetical watcher's perspective.

The color of the sky is one shade of an indescribable iridescent blue/grey color I've seen nowhere else other than NM. The much paler clouds hover ghost-like there, darkening as the night cycles by. They'll continue to shift and transform - so slowly you won't even notice - till the early morning, before they drift away.

On this day, however, when the clock strikes midnight, an official transformation will take place: the year 2025 will slide into year 2026, AD (CE).* For some of us, it already has. For some of us it hasn't quite yet, which is why I wanted to post so late in the day. Because it's all so relative, and relativity is important when attempting to define a transdimensional moment. 

I confess, I've spent weeks attempting to rethink and redefine transdimensionalism after the content of Once Upon a Transdimensional Day forced me to fully realize that all previous attempts on my part were in adequate.

I want to apologize for leaving that post hanging in mid-air for weeks, with that prematurely-made promise: "Text to come." I didn't intend to lie; I just overestimated my ability to write that text. I didn't foresee the severe case of writer's block that would follow...

(This post is being written live; more appears below the jump!)

(Update, January 5, 2026: For my other 2026 post, see The Fool's Heroic Journey.

Once upon a transdimensional day...

 

Four Seasons - oil painting - 2020, Petras Lukosius.

A Walk

by Rainer Maria Rilke, 1924

(Translated by Robert Bly)

"My eyes already touch the sunny hill

going far ahead of the road I have begun.

So we are grasped by what we cannot grasp;

it has inner light, even from a distance

and changes us, even if we do not reach it,

into something else, which, hardly sensing it,

we already are; a gesture waves us on

answering our own wave...

but what we feel is the wind in our faces."

***

Reveal Arriving - oil painting - 2020, Petras Lukosius.

Evening

by Rainer Maria Rilke

(Translated by A. S. Kline)

Slowly the evening draws on its coat

Held out to it by a row of ancient trees:

You gaze: and the landscape splits in two,

One part lifting skywards, while one falls,

Leaving you not quite part of anything,

Not quite so dark as the house, the silent one,

Not quite as surely invoking the eternal,

As that which turns to star each night, rising -

Leaving you (indescribably, to unravel)

Your anxious, immense, and ripening life:

So that, now bounded, and now grasped,

It becomes, in turn, stone in you, and star.

In a Field of Whispers (Ode to a Jack-o'-lantern)

 

One minute, you were there,

facing a moon enshrined by clouds.

Then, the lights went out.

And, the clouds came down in long, luminous spirals

clinging to your skin with cool, misty tendrils.

Ice silvers the rims of your darkened eyes and hollow mouth;

your last breath lost in a field of whispers...

where, slowly, you will coalesce, drop by crucial drop,

with those who creep upon the earth, and the hallowed grounds they cross.

- 2025, DS. Cloud timestamps: 1) October 7, 2025, 6:33 pm, 2) October 7, 2025, 6:33 pm, 3) June 25, 2025, 4:41 pm, 4) October 7, 2025, 6:32 pm, 5) July 31, 2025, 7:04 pm.

(More below the jump...)

Art Works!

"To be a successful artist you must be unrealistic and delusional."

- Contemporary writer and Art activist, Amie McNee, found here.

And that's just the beginning! :-)

In any case, artists - and this means you - if you or someone you know are suffering from fears of alienation, inadequacy or irrelevance, do yourself an immense favor and listen to the wise woman in the TED video above: The Case for Making Art When the World Is on Fire. She speaks for you. Her name is Amie McNee... (and her voluminous coat-of-many-colors is to die for)!

Artists at work

Today's hat-tip goes to the artists of Portland, Oregon, keeping the streets (and democracy) safe with insight, humor and music!

Costumed protesters in Portland defy description of the city as a 'war zone'

"Dancing frogs, peacocks and unicorns outside the federal immigration building present a joyful contrast to the Trump administration's portrait of the Oregon city, they say."

 Thank you, Portland, OR! (The artists in action.)

Note: My own, small, vaporous rant lies below the jump.

The Imaginarium (Complete, final revision: 9/20/25))

The sky erupts in a vaporous vision;

(Aqua Vitae,

the Water of Life,

the Living Water.)

•

Welcome to the Imaginarium

where a vacant space

in a timeless place

becomes a gateway

to the extraordinary.

•

We live in an aviary,

an aerial aquarium,

beneath gliding apparitions,

made of ice-coated pearls.

Phantom leviathans

encircle our perimeters,

(Continued below the jump...)

The Cloud Makers

 

After the rain, Albuquerque
- July 21, 2025, 3:05 pm, DS.

(Sand spins into mountains,

Mountains spin into streams,

Streams spin into fountains;

Clouds are made of these.)

- 2025, DS.

- The unpublished chant-like addendum to the poem, Nature's Signature, found here.

"The extensive and more personalized symbolism of clouds appearing in landscape painting at the turn of the twentieth century reflected the cognitive uncertainty we experience in relation to clouds, in their constant variability and instability, and the dictatorship of the imagination, which allows only a subjective description of the phenomenon."

- A quote from the excellent article: Cloudscapes over the Baltic Sea–Cloud Motifs in Finnish, Swedish, German, Russian, Polish, Lithuanian, and Latvian Symbolic Landscape Painting around 1900. The highlighted text acknowledging our "cognitive uncertainty" regarding clouds really resonated with me, but not merely for the reasons described. For someone who has invested a great deal of time watching them, the uncertainty lies in the method of their creation. While, logically one cannot accept intelligence is involved, it is also difficult to accept, in some cases, that clouds are fashioned merely by the random fluctuations of air currents. That is, unless we redefine our concept of "random," (made, done, happening, or chosen without method or conscious decision)... or, maybe, come to the understanding that, in nature, "random" includes patterns & processes not, yet, fully understood.

The random appearance of a cicada in a cloud shot.
Cellphone photo,  August 25, 2025, 4:28 pm, DS.

The cloud introducing this post is one of the exceptional clouds.  It possesses an almost unworldly presence. Perhaps, this is due to the subdued coloring of the sky that day after it had rained. It has a dreamlike quality. What is especially intriguing about it, however, is that it's a cloud which is in the process of transforming. Moreover, it isn't isolated; it appears to be one element in a peculiar circle of clouds. (See below)

An odd ring of clouds - July 21, 2025, 3:07 pm, DS.

You may not recognize it at first. It is the cloud on the far right, which, in my eyes, appears to have grown a human head seen in profile! The rest have no recognizable shape but they, too, are odd, if not downright weird. The small dark cloud (towards the left) is a prime example. What exactly is that square-shape below it?

Now, I do not manipulate or edit the content of my photos in any way. They appear as nothing more than what they are, but, if this photo were an actual painting - and, in ways, it almost looks like one - we might assume it was painted by an imaginative artist... a Surrealist of Nature, (if this wasn't an oxymoron). In other words, and the point I'm attempting  to make is that, while the odd group of clouds was not manufactured, they seem to have arose from an imagination.

Personally, I think this is what attracts me to clouds... a weird sense of witnessing something imaginative where no "imagination" should logically exist. This represents another cause for the "cognitive uncertainty" mentioned earlier, but, for a visual artist it represents something else as well... that is, a conundrum: what defines art when the source of an intriguing creation is not merely inhuman, but is logically without consciousness? In this case, we might say it's a Beauty of Nature/Nature of Beauty kind of thing, but, ultimately, this does not tell us enough.

So, who or what are the Cloud Makers? I doubt it's possible to know. But, the question is tantalizing and will be carried into a future post: The Imaginarium.

Clouds, Time & Spiraling Planes (revised August 19)

 

Credit: Jinik Renatus, Jinikal Art.

(Update: September, 9, 2025. A new, and even better video from Jinikal. This one features amusing little pentagrams! See: Cosmic Joy: The Infinite Playgrounds.)

It occured to me recently that in the earlier days of blogging, I made a point of trying to feature new digital artists on Trans-D, a habit I somewhat abandoned after the genre grew to such a degree I could no longer keep track of it. And, I can only marginally keep track of the burgeoning AI video artists; new artists seem to appear literally every day.* But, every now and then, a video makes an appearance that resonates on a personal level - call it kismet - and, well,  Jinik's In a World Where Time and Space are Distorted is one of those videos.

Don't be fooled by the title. Time and space are not "distorted." In terms of spatial effects, they are either intentionally (or intuitively) orchestrated and organized around the laws of pentagonal phi and/or the Fibonacci series,** and best of all, Jinik created some fantastic spiraling clouds! Regarding time, spiral clocks  (also here) and time spirals are all the rage in cyberspace, everywhere from scientific circles to Fantasy Fandom worlds.

As it happens, spiraling clouds are not unusual in the real world. I see them every day, albeit on a smaller scale. Inset left (above) is an example I shot earlier this summer but often the golden spiral's signature paisley shape can be found on a much larger scale. (Below is a detail of a photo found in a previous cloud post.)

A cloud in desperate need of a Phi-shell!

Clouds and spirals? Can't get any better! Thank you, Jinik Renatus, your video made my day!

(My apologies for all the typos and delays with the text... hopefully, now corrected!)

______________________________________________

* I have been featuring them on Mac's memorial, with the latest appearing on this post... and his birthday post.

** I want to be perfectly clear about my use of mathematical terms regarding art here. That is, while phi may, indeed, be mathematically present in a work of art, the exact math is not required for it to fit the criteria of possessing the Golden Meme; best described as a shape, sound, or movement based on a mathematical ratio present in the geometry of the pentagram - in itself, a fractal - that is so perfect in its mysterious beauty and/or powerful efficiency that it might be described as Divine, or Golden. Regarding space-time, the Golden Meme represents a key to understanding the eternal.

(Note: The Golden Meme as a theory and an artistic investigation is mine alone and is not currently recognized as valid by any accredited source. It is also in its infancy. In any case, for me, it serves as an organizing center for the pentagonal phi material I've been amassing for 6 years. See: Reflections on Water, or the golden snail shell on the sidebar.)

The Philosopher's Dove (with Addendum)

 

The enigmatic glyph of a pigeon poised in flight, Albuquerque - one frame of a cellphone video - June 2, 2025, DS.

A pigeon is considered feral when one member of its line has, at some point in time, severed ties with (human-produced) domesticity.

Pigeons - rock doves - are free agents in human cities. Huddling together in small groups high up in the rafters of old, abandoned buildings, they are quiet, gentle, trusting creatures. We know them mostly by the snapping sound of their beating wings.

Time-stamped: August 1, 2025, 6:22 pm.

They are essentially travelers, vagrants and refugees and are generally despised (and exterminated) by property owners. After all, pigeons do not pay rent, nor do they sing for their supper. They search for seeds that have fallen on the pavement, trodden by human feet, or flattened beneath the wheels of a driverless car.

Time-stamped: July 31, 2025, 1:19 pm.

But, the sky glorifies those in flight and, in flight, the rock dove is as fleet as any bird.

Always, the sky, whispering in silent, Sylphid syllables, welcomes its feathered acolytes back into its cool, incorruptible embrace.

(Continued below the break...)

A Word about Charlie, a Cat's Cat (Complete)

 

A Cat's Cat - cellphone photograph - July 22, 2025, DS.

(As I write, the clouds have been scarce for two days in Albuquerque; the blazing sun has held them hostage. So, I feel motivated to address other matters... such as our resident Cat, Charlie.

Regarding this post, I think it was my idea, but as Charlie seems uncharacteristically enthusiastic about it, I have my suspicions.

In any case, Charlie has waited for me to finish it for months now, so, I hope he enjoys it; i.e., I hope to remain in his favor.)

Charlie is a Cat's Cat. Allow me to explain.

To begin, we must define Cats in a way Charlie would approve. It isn't as if he's holding a tiny gun to my head as I write this - he can't, he's sleeping - no, he just wants me to set the record straight. So, here it goes.

First up (and most importantly), Cats do not, never have and never will belong to humans. They are - all of them - wild. And, unlike most other "domesticated" beasts, human companionship will never alter a Cat's essential wildness. (Try telling Charlie he's domesticated. No, really, go ahead.)

In actuality, the situation is reversed. Human entities belong to Cats. Allegedly, (according to Charlie) this was written into an ancient Universal Feline - Human Pact, which stated that, in return for certain services (vermin extermination, toxin removal, cuteness, emotional rescue & psychic management), Cats would forever Rule. And, so, they do.

Charlie, for one, had not come to stay for more than several days in our present abode - formerly he was the self-appointed motel security guard - when he informed us he was, indisputably, His Royal Majesty, the King of all Cats to whom we must now bow down in willing servitude. And, so, we did.

Lastly, Cats seem to possess an almost alien intelligence... as mysterious as their mineral coated, almond-shaped eyes. This, I suspect, is because Cats originally came from another world. We'll call it (for a momentary lack of imagination): the Planet of the Cats. In other words, the "chariots of the gods" had cats on board!* And, the ancient Egyptians knew this; they didn't build temples to their feline overlords for nothing.

Charlie** won't admit to this, of course... because it goes without saying that Cats never divulge anything. Also, they never stoop to unnecessary chatter unless it's directly beneficial to them... dinner, for example.

(More below the jump...)

Leonardo's Cloud & the Shrine of Venus

 

A massive storm cloud touching down over the Sandia's, Albuquerque - June 10, 2025, 6:19 pm, DS.

(Note: While the memory of this cloud immediately came to my mind after reading Da Vinci's passage it is in no way representative of Leonardo's cloud.) (For more about my cloud see "The Cloud Matrix" at the end of the post.)

"Landscape with cloud effect

I have long had the opportunity of observing many different [atmospheric effects], and once, above Milan, over in the direction of Lake Maggiore, I saw a cloud shaped like a huge mountain made up of banks of fire, because the rays of the sun which was then setting red on the horizon had dyed it with their colour. This great cloud drew to itself all the little clouds which were round about it. And the great cloud remained stationary and retained the light of the sun on its apex for an hour and a half after sunset, so enormous was its size. And about two hours after night had fallen there arose a stupendous and phenomenal wind storm."

- Leonardo da Vinci via Leonardo da Vinci's Note-Books Arranged And Rendered Into English by Edward Mccurdy, 1923. (Book 2, Nature, p. 125).

Inset left is a chalk drawing by Leonardo - A Storm Over an Alpine Valley, 1480. A facsimile of this drawing accompanies the artist's text in Mccurdy's translation. There appears to be a few versions of this odd image on the web, mostly in red chalk. For example, this one was dated circa 1509.

I don't think that this drawing represents the mountain-shaped cloud Leonardo describes in his notebook. The cloud in the drawing seems to have the anvil-shape of a certain variety of cumulonimbus: the incus.

Admittedly, the drawing is difficult to make out. But, if you click on the image, you might find what is possibly the image of the artist with his beard and hat on the upper left side of the cloud - portrait, inset left - Leonardo's cameo appearance in the clouds!

(Correction. Actually, this bit of cloud looks most like him from a distance and not at all like any sort of face close up.)

_____________________________________________

The Temple of Venus featured in one of a series of illustrations by Walter Crane
for Edmund Spenser's epic poem The Faerie Queene, 1590.

"For the Shrine of Venus

You should make steps on four sides by which to ascend to a plateau formed by nature on the summit of a rock; and let this rock be hollowed out, and supported with pillars in front, and pierced beneath by a great portico, wherein water should be falling into various basins of granite and

porphyry and serpentine, within recesses shaped like a half-circle ; and let the water in these be continually flowing over; and facing this portico towards the north, let there be a lake with a small island in the centre, and on this have a thick and shady wood. Let the waters at the top of the pillars be poured down into vases standing at their bases, and from these let there be flowing tiny rivulets."

-  This passage from Leonardo's notebooks appears several pages later in Nature; The Earth an Organism - on page 131. It is then followed by The Realm of Venus. (Both are discussed below the jump.)(Photo source.)

(Continued below the jump...)

The Cloud Agenda

 

Cloud formations over the Sandia's, Albuquerque - July 6, 2025, 12:52 pm - DS

"I’ve always loved looking at clouds. Nothing in nature rivals their variety and drama; nothing matches their sublime, ephemeral beauty. If a glorious sunset of Altocumulus clouds were to spread across the heavens only once in a Generation, it would surely be amongst the principal legends of our time."

- A quote from Gavin Pretor-Pinney’s The Cloudspotter’s Guide, mention of which is found in two Marginalian articles worthy of a view. See here and here. (Note: This section was removed from the previous cloud post, and inserted here.)

Gavin Pretor-Pinney just happens to be the founder of the international Cloud Appreciation  Society... which even has it's own manifesto and an outstanding collection of cloud photographs!

Also, Pretor-Pinney has a talk over at TED; see Cloudy with a Chance of Joy. While there, also see another illuminating discussion: Can clouds buy us more time to solve climate change?

***

No, the photo above - with a cloud that suspiciously resembles a lion or an Egyptian sphinx (bull? dog?) - is not a book cover for the latest New Age exposé, nor is the title of this post. The Cloud Agenda is not a hidden agenda. The agenda is mine and there are no sinister aspects involved. I am simply recording clouds because they and I seem to be sharing the same location in space and time these days and I feel we ought to know each a little better. The clouds seem to agree, and I'm learning some amazing things I'd like to share.

Today's cloud - and, yes, each photo below represents the sequential transformation of the same single cloud - was a real surprise for me. I never saw a large cloud transform in place before. Generally, the smaller ones slowly float out of the camera's range and the larger ones dissipate. This one clearly wanted to be captured.

Below is its first incarnation. 

1st appearance - July 6, 2025, 12:27 pm - DS.

Clouds frequently form animal shapes and this is always delightful. What intrigues me though are the stranger configurations like the one above. I'm not going to even venture a guess on what this odd scene might represent. That it seems to represent something, however, is a peculiar quality clouds possess and one I suspect humans recognized the minute they crawled out their caves: clouds form interesting shapes; some of which seem eerily familiar.

1st transformation - July 6, 2025, 12:52 pm - DS.

Often, finding recognizable shapes in what is assumed to be a random pattern is referred to as pareidolia, a (sometimes derogatory) term often used by unimaginative skeptics. Wiki informs us, however:

"Pareidolia plays a significant role in creative cognition, enabling artists and viewers to perceive novel forms and meanings in ambiguous stimuli. Joanne Lee highlights that this phenomenon has been harnessed in artistic practices for centuries (Da Vinci for example)."

So, there.

Anyway, the transformation above is the most recognizable one of the group (to me) and it kind of blew me away. But, imagine my surprise when I realized that the "show" was not, yet, over...

(More below the jump.)