Spiral Artefact #2

Why stop at primes? Those are the numbers the Ulam spiral is usually used for. You get a grid of square blocks, then move outward from the middle of the grid in a spiral, counting as you go. If the count matches a prime, you fill the block in. The first block is 1. Not filled. The second block is 2, which is prime. So the block is filled. The third block is 3, which is prime. Filled again. And so on. In the end, the Ulam spiral for primes looks like this:

The Ulam spiral of prime numbers


But why stop at primes? If you change the fill-test, you get different patterns. I’ve recently tried a test based on how many ways a number can be represented as the sum of consecutive integers. For example, 5, 208 and 536 can be represented in only one way:

5 = 2+3
208 = 10 + 11 + 12 + 13 + 14 + 15 + 16 + 17 + 18 + 19 + 20 + 21 + 22
536 = sum(26..41) = 26 + 27 + 28 + 29 + 30 + 31 + 32 + 33 + 34 + 35 + 36 + 37 + 38 + 39 + 40 + 41


Let’s use “runsum” to mean a sum of consecutive integers. If the function runsum(n) returns the count of runsums for n, then runsum(5) = runsum(208) = runsum(536) = 1. Here are spirals for runsum(n) = 1:

A spiral for runsum(n) = 1, i.e. numbers that are the sum of consecutive integers in only one way


runsum(n) = 1 (higher resolution)


runsum(n) = 1 (higher resolution still)


Now try runsum(n) = 2, i.e. numbers that are the sum of consecutive integers in exactly two ways:

A spiral for runsum(n) = 2


runsum(n) = 2 (hi-res #1)


runsum(n) = 2 (hi-res #2)


runsum(n) = 2 (hi-res #3)


Why do most of the numbers fall on a diagonal? I don’t know, but I know that the diagonal represents square numbers:

9 = sum(4..5) = sum(2..4)
25 = sum(12..13) = sum(3..7)
36 = sum(11..13) = sum(1..8)
49 = sum(24..25) = sum(4..10)


Now try runsum(n) = 3:

A spiral for runsum(n) = 3


runsum(n) = 3 (hi-res)


It’s a densely packed spiral, unlike the spiral for runsum(n) = 4:

A spiral for runsum(n) = 4


runsum(n) = 4 (hi-res)


Like the spiral for runsum(n) = 2, the numbers are disproportionately falling on the diagonal of square numbers:

81 = 9^2 = sum(40..41) = sum(26..28) = sum(11..16) = sum(5..13)
324 = 18^2 = sum(107..109) = sum(37..44) = sum(32..40) = sum(2..25)
2500 = 50^2 = sum(498..502) = sum(309..316) = sum(88..112) = sum(43..82)


Here are spirals for runsum(n) = 5:

A spiral for runsum(n) = 5 (note patterns in green)


runsum(n) = 5 (hi-res #1)


runsum(n) = 5 (hi-res #2)


There are two interesting patterns in the spiral, marked in green above and enlarged below:

Pattern #1 in spiral for runsum(n) = 5


Pattern #2 in spiral for runsum(n) = 5


Are the patterns merely artefacts or does one or both represent something mathematically significant? I don’t know.

More spirals:

A spiral for runsum(n) = 6


A spiral for runsum(n) = 7


runsum(n) = 7 (hi-res)


A spiral for runsum(n) = 8


runsum(n) = 8 (hi-res #1)


runsum(n) = 8 (hi-res #2)


Numbers in the spiral for runsum(n) = 8 are again falling disproportionately on the diagonal of square numbers. Here’s one of those squares:

441 = 21^2 = sum(220..221) = sum(146..148) = sum(71..76) = sum(60..66) = sum(45..53) = sum(25..38) = sum(16..33) = sum(11..31)


Previously Pre-Posted…

Spiral Artefact #1 — a look at patterns in spirals with different tests

Performativizing Papyrocentricity #77

Papyrocentric Performativity Presents…

Bestial at the FestivalThe Festival, D.M. Mitchell (2021)

Linkin’ LawyerResurrection Walk, Michael Connelly (2023)

Mini MikiMaximal Mikita: The Mostly Morbid Memoirs of Mikita Brottman, Mikita Brottman (2024)

Spider GuiderBritain’s Spiders: A Field Guide, Lawrence Bee, Geoff Oxford and Helen Smith (2020)

Gnostalgie du PerduGnosticism: An Anthology, ed. Robert M. Grant (1961)


Or Read a Review at Random: RaRaR

Chevaleurs Oniriques

« Les valeurs oniriques l’ont définitivement emporté sur les autres et je demande à ce qu’on tienne pour un crétin celui qui se refuserait encore, par exemple, à voir un cheval galoper sur une tomate. » André Breton (1896-1966)
• “Oneiric values have definitely won out over the others, and I maintain that anyone who still refuses to see, for instance, a horse galloping on a tomato, must be an idiot.” — André Breton, viâ Soluble Fish by Incunabula Media

Le Neige d’Antan

snow (n.) Middle English snou, from Old English snaw “snow, that which falls as snow; a fall of snow; a snowstorm,” from Proto-Germanic *snaiwaz (source also of Old Saxon and Old High German sneo, Old Frisian and Middle Low German sne, Middle Dutch snee, Dutch sneeuw, German Schnee, Old Norse snjor, Gothic snaiws “snow”), from PIE root *sniegwh– “snow; to snow” (source also of Greek νίφα, nipha, Latin nix (genitive nivis), Old Irish snechta, Irish sneachd, Welsh nyf, Lithuanian sniegas, Old Prussian snaygis, Old Church Slavonic snegu, Russian snieg’, Slovak sneh “snow”). The cognate in Sanskrit, स्निह्यति snihyati, came to mean “he gets wet.” — “Snow” at EtymOnline

The Hex Fractor #3

In “Diamonds to Dust”, I showed how the Mitsubishi logo could be turned into a fractal, like this:

The Mitsubishi diamonds (source)


Mitsubishi logo to fractal (animated)


Now I want to look at another famous symbol and its fractalization. Here’s the symbol, the hexagram:

Hexagram, a six-pointed star


The hexagram can be dissected into twelve equilateral triangles like this:

Hexagram dissected into 12 equilateral triangles


If each triangle in the dissection is replaced by a hexagram, then the hexagram is dissected again into twelve triangles, you get a famous fractal, the Koch snowflake:






The Koch snowflake






The Koch snowflake again


Hexagram to Koch snowflake (animated)


If you color the triangles, you get something like this:







Colored hexagram to fractal (animated)


Of course, this is a very inefficient way to create a Koch snowflake, because the interior hexagrams consume processing time while not contributing to the fractal boundary of the snowflake. But in a way you can fully fractalize the hexagram if you draw only the point at the center of each triangle and then color it according to how many times the pixel in question has been drawn on before. To see how this works, first look at what happens when the center-points are represented in white:








White center-points (animated)


And here’s the fully fractalized hexagram, with colored center-points:







Colored center-points (animated)


Previously Pre-Posted…

The Hex Fractor #1 — hexagons and fractals
The Hex Fractor #2 — hexagons and fractals again
Diamonds to Dust — turning the Mitsubishi logo into a fractal

Renoir et la Reine Noire

« Le noir, une non-couleur ? Où avez-vous encore pris cela ? Le noir, mais c’est la reine des couleurs ! » — Renoir (1841-1919)
• “Black, a non-color? Where did you get that idea? Black, why, it’s the queen of colors!”

Nostocalgie de la Boue

The colonial cyanobacterium Nostoc commune (image from Wikipedia)


Post-Performative Post-Scriptum…

The title of this incendiary intervention is a reference to the French phrase nostalgie de la boue, literally meaning “nostalgia for mud” and referring to a longing for social or sexual degradation.

Miximal Metaphors

“Each of Robyn’s three Honey-era Later performances featured a moment. Towards the end of ‘Missing U’, she finally stared down the camera, having avoided eye contact for fear of emotional collapse, while during ‘Honey’ she did away with the mic stand to make room for supple dance moves. With ‘Every Heartbeat’, meanwhile, peaked when she punctured the highwire emotional blood-letting with a cheeky wink.” — “The 100 greatest BBC music performances – ranked!”, The Guardian, 6×22


Post-Performative Post-Scriptum…

If you think it’s easy to mix so many metaphors in so few words, all I can say is: Try it for yourself!