I know my mind and I have made my choice; Not from your temper does my doom depend; Love me or love me not, you have no voice In this, that is my portion to the end. Your presence and your favours, the full part That you could give, you now can take away: What lies between your beauty and my heart Not even you can trouble or betray. Mistake me not—unto my inmost core I do desire your kiss upon my mouth; They have not craved a cup of water more That bleach upon the deserts of the south; Here might you bless me; what you cannot do Is bow me down, that have been loved by you.
Incubuit Boreas abreptaque vela tetendit, iamque meus longe Protesilaus erat. dum potui spectare virum, spectare iuvabat sumque tuos oculos usque secuta meis; ut te non poteram, poteram tua vela videre, vela diu vultus detinuere meos. at postquam nec te nec vela fugacia vidi, et quod spectarem, nil nisi pontus erat, lux quoque tecum abiit, tenebrisque exanguis obortis succiduo dicor procubuisse genu. vix socer Iphiclus, vix me grandaevus Acastus, vix mater gelida maesta refecit aqua. officium fecere pium, sed inutile nobis: indignor miserae non licuisse mori.
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Track 1
How this picture is made
What a fractal is
A fractal is a shape that keeps its pattern when you look closer. Coastlines, trees, shells, and weather do this. The large form and the small form are the same kind of thing. A poem can be drawn that way. The shape of the whole comes from the shape of the lines.
Primunia is the name for the source of that order: the pattern under the pattern, already there in a tree, a shell, and a verse.
How the boundary is drawn
The number under the picture is the poem constant. It is read from the build of the lines: their length, how uneven they are, the size of the stanzas, the share of vowels, and the way the lines end. A new word moves the number when it changes that build. The same poem always gives the same number.
Drawn on its own, that number sits in a quiet part of the plane, and most poems would look like the same soft disk. So the number is carried outward along its own direction until it meets the edge of the Mandelbrot set, where the shape turns sharp. The picture is the Julia set of that meeting place.
Each point on the canvas is folded again and again by one small rule. Points that stay near the rule form the dark interior. Points that rush away become the coloured bands. The hue comes from the poem constant, and the brightest bands turn toward gold. Change the length of a line, the stanza, or the vowel share, and both the number and the picture move.
What the branching signifies
Branching draws the poem as a tree. Each turn follows a line, and every smaller branch repeats that pattern. A longer line reaches farther. The letters at the start of a line bend the next turn. A higher share of vowels opens the branches wider.
The trunk takes its colour from the poem constant and warms toward gold at the tips. When the poem has more than one stanza, gold forks leave the trunk. Each fork is a stanza beyond the first, up to three. The tree divides where the poem divides. One stanza remains a single trunk.