Thursday, October 27, 2005
Monday, October 24, 2005
Picnic @ the maze
Really...I just want to say thank you to everyone for coming and making this a very special day. I have to admit that my face hurts - probably because I have been smiling the entire day. A special thank you to Simona & Dani for helping make all this possible. Also, Gil, Tracy & Kim for all their help and attention (yes, I feel bad - you were my guests!) Finally, I really appreciate the effort from those that went out of their way (Alex & Chiara) or showed up fashionably late (Mike). It was a true pleasure to walk around the maze and enjoy a glass of wine with all of you. Tonight... three years since I have arrived in the
Sunday, October 23, 2005
Saturday, October 22, 2005
Monday, October 17, 2005
Maze - Isometric
Roger, now you can get better idea of how this maze looks like.
Abracos,
v.
Maze Walkthrough
Maze dimensions (inside)
The maze and all illustrations were desinged with Sketchup. The maze is being constructed on an empty field in the campus of the Royal London Society for the Blind. Construction is expected to finish in the third week of October. The figure bellow details the dimensions for the different sections.
(click on image for larger picture)
Sunday, October 16, 2005
A few words on the name...
Theseus son of Aegeus (or Poseidon) and father of “scientific wrestling” is notorious for crossing the maze and slaying the Minotaur. This brave and astute mythological hero also known for his righteous foreign policy and sense of justice was not entirely perfect. He was fond of kidnapping (abducted Helen of Sparta when she was 12) and had terrible cognitive mapping skills. We are quick to discard Daedalus' genius and forget that Theseus did not “solve” the maze. In fact, Theseus was so incapable of spatial updating that his movement inside the maze depended on the magical ball of thread given by Ariadne, daughter of King Minos.
Saturday, October 15, 2005
...Friday night poem
y sigue el caminar.
Los árboles marchitos.
Mi cuarto, solitario.
Y los retratos viejos
y el libro sin cortar...
Chorrea la tristeza por los muebles
y por el alma. Quizá
no tenga para mí Naturaleza
el pecho de cristal.
Y me duele la carne del corazón
y la carne del alma. Y al hablar,
se quedan mis palabras en el aire
como corchos sobre agua.
Sólo por tus ojos
sufro yo este mal,
tristezas de antaño
y las que vendrán.
Tarde lluviosa en gris cansado,
y sigue el caminar.
Federico García Lorca (1898 - 1936)