Moving Forward Backward

fractal (n.): "a curve or geometric figure, each part of which has the same statistical character as the whole. Fractals are useful in modeling structures (such as eroded coastlines or snowflakes) in which similar patterns recur at progressively smaller scales, and in describing partly random or chaotic phenomena such as crystal growth, fluid turbulence, and galaxy formation."

[ORIGIN 1970s: from French, from Latin fract- ‘broken,’ from the verb frangere.]

Imagine a tree growing in reverse--the branches and roots appearing, as if from nowhere, growing towards each other to form a trunk. An entire network of individual nodes coming together to form a cohesive whole.

I think we have succeeded in choosing our branches, but we must now figure out how to seamlessly combine them to create a trunk with which to unite them. The picture (above left) is an example of fractal geometry occurring in Nature. Many root structures are self-similar and contain recurring patterns on an incredibly small level. Nature creates organic patterns that, while satisfying fractal geometry, are not confined to the stark precision that mathematical fractals require. While in mathematical constructs the patterns are precisely the same on an infinitely small scale, organic examples of fractal geometry possess complex systems that are made of similar yet unique patterns that repeat on an incredibly (not quite infinitely) small scale, as seen above.

However, whereas in Nature an "initiator" and "generator" are used to determine the rules that will define the outcome of a system, we have compiled a large list of otherwise disparate topics that have the potential to come together in harmony. In our situation, there is no defining rule--there is nothing explicit governing which topics are chosen or how they come together. Instead, what we possess are the branches, and we've only to discern what we see arising from their connections. We are essentially moving forward backward, trying to discern what concept could possibly produce the results we have compiled.

Suppose for instance you are given the task of making a "found-art" sculpture composed of a number of random objects found in a junkyard...perhaps a carburetor, a refrigerator door, a car fender, a bathroom sink, a small step-ladder, a wooden door, and an old sofa.

You create a sculpture that is interesting, compelling, even seductive, and yet you did so without any intention or rule of composition. Instead, you started with a set of relatively unrelated pieces and put them together using only what you felt to be the desire of the piece themselves--what seemed to be "right." If a recognizable pattern or relationship arises and yet it was not intended, does it still exist?

While one might argue that a "pattern" or "relationship" does not exist until it is called such, it can be clearly observed that the existence of repetition and similarity exist devoid of human categorization. That is to say, such words as "repetition" and "similarity" do not, upon their use, suddenly bring into creation repetition or similarity--they are merely words to describe pre-existing natural occurrences.

In this way, we possess a list of "pieces" that potentially contains pre-existing patterns and relationships--we've merely yet to determine what those relationships are predicated upon. And upon finding the inherent relationships within the topic list (there are many possibilities, some more cohesive than others) we can begin to push the publication in the direction it wants to go.