T-Shirt Pythagoras

Pythagoras tree in Stucture SynthA good example of this type of fractals is the work below:Also check the basic Structure Synth commands here: structuresynth.sourceforge.net…I will explain the formulae and rules that will be used, but still it is useful to take a look at the basics.Building a basic treeThe first step is to create the "trunc" rectangle: rule base{{s 0.1 1 0.1} box} {s 100 100 0.1 z -0.5 color grey } box baseIn the code above, the first line defines a rule called "base", which creates the red block which will be our trunk. The {s 0.1 1 0.1} defines the size of this block.The second line draws a huge grey block that will be our background. I set quite a large size to it (100x100 and 0.1 unit thick). The z -0.5 command sets a shift of 0.1 on the z axis, so it is under our red block. The last command, color grey, sets the object color to grey.Finally, third line executes the "base" rule, drawing the red block.Now, the branches:The left branch is a scaled down copy of the main "trunc", shifted and rotated.

So you need a rule that takes the main red block, rotates it CCW, shifts it a bit left (x axis) and up (y axis) and scales it down a bit. rule base{{s 0.1 1 0.1} box} rule pythagoras { {x -0.25 y 0.9 rz 30 s 0.9}pythagoras base} {s 100 100 0.1 z -0.5 color grey } box pythagorasThis is what the rule "pythagoras" does. Unlike the first rule, "base", this rule is recursive: on each step, it draws the base rule, and then a shifted (0.25 to left and 0.9 up), rotated (30 degrees CCW) and scaled down (0.9 of the original size) "pythagoras" rule:Thats one nice swirl, but a pythagoras tree branches in two on each iteration. The second branch is just a mirrored version of the first: rule base{{s 0.1 1 0.1} box} rule pythagoras { {x -0.25 y 0.9 rz 30 s 0.9}pythagoras {x 0.25 y 0.9 rz -30 s 0.9}pythagoras base} {s 100 100 0.1 z -1 color grey } box pythagorasThe result looks like this:Now, time to experiment.Try changing the rotation angle (make sure you change the shift too):Or set different rules for each branch:Or even add some crazy randomness:

Pythagoras tree in Stucture Synth tatasz / ©2015-2016 tataszTHE true beauty of the world’s most beautiful game, according to Johan Cruyff, who knew, didn’t lie in tricksy technique. If a man could juggle a ball a thousand times, it proved only that he ought to join the circus. Of course, it was great when Rudolf Nureyev said he should have been a dancer. But he was not just using his long, lean body when he played football. He was mostly using his brain. That brain, as well as his famously agile feet, made him a local hero in Holland and Spain and, by extension, all over football-mad Europe. His rules of the game were simple. (Geometrical, some said, even mystical.) If he had the ball, the space on the pitch had to be made as large as possible. If he didn’t have it, the space had to become threatening and small. He adjusted his perspective continually with the movement of the ball. At one given moment—neither too early nor too late, en un momento dado, his catchphrase when he shaped Barcelona into the world’s top team—the ball and he would meet.

And from this, as often as not, came glory. Toon Hermans, his fellow-countryman, eloquently described his almost spiritual enthronement in Dutch hearts: And Vincent saw the cornAnd Einstein the numberAnd Zeppelin the ZeppelinAnd Johan saw the ball.
Price Of Acer Laptop Core I3 In Pakistan He didn’t just see it.
D6 Cat For Sale OregonOne piece of wizardry, the Cruyff turn, involved a dummy pass and a back-flick, completely wrong-footing the defender.
Nollie T ShirtsHe invented that in 1974, the neatest of legacies. In another trick, a pretend penalty of 1982, he rolled the ball sideways from the penalty spot to an unnoticed team-mate, who then slipped it stealthily back to let him score. In 1977 he achieved a phantom goal, leaping up and twisting round, back to the net, so the keeper barely saw it coming.

He back-heeled the ball then, but could also score with the laces, inside or outside of either foot. That made him six times as talented, he reckoned, as most modern players. In 1966-67, his best season for Ajax, he scored 33 goals. In 1974 he almost won the World Cup for Holland. He usually played forward, but his philosophy of “total football”—in which he had been coached himself by Rinus Michels at Ajax, before he became its most celebrated “conductor”, as of an orchestra—allowed any player to take any position on the field. Left-wingers could be right-wingers, and a goalie could even be an attacker, using his feet for a change. It was a waste of a position otherwise.) Switching and swapping was a neat way to confound the opposition, whether the whirling “carousel” was wearing Ajax white-and-red or bright Holland orange. He had found yet another way to shake up European football. Match analysts almost made him into a scholar of the turf, “a Pythagoras in boots”, as he was called once.

For him, it was all just instinct. He was a cocky, all-knowing Mokummer, master of the one-liner delivered in best Amsterdam slang: a poor boy from Betondorp, “Concrete Village”, who got into the Ajax junior academy mostly because his mother cleaned at the club and his stepfather was a groundsman. At ten, he was putting out the corner-flags and begging players to take pot-shots at him; at 17 his first team-photos showed him open-mouthed and wide-eyed, hungrier for the ball than anyone else. At that point, the mid-1960s, the Dutch football league was becoming increasingly professional. By the mid-1970s, with him playing, Ajax had won six Eredivisie titles and three consecutive European Cups. For all his talk about teamwork, he didn’t naturally fit in. He was a loner who smoked too much, preferred family to team-mates and wore the number 14 on his shirt. When the Dutch national team was sponsored by Adidas he wouldn’t wear their boots, and went with Puma instead. At the start of the season in 1973 he suddenly left, following Michels, to play for Barcelona for a spell.

He returned to Ajax only to leave again in 1983, convinced that they undervalued him. He was never guilty of that himself. Clubs that took him on later as a director or adviser were berated when things were not done as they had to be, his way. “Before I make a mistake, I don’t make that mistake,” he said. His most lasting triumph, though, was the coaching of Barcelona. El Flaco, as they called him, “Skinny”, took the team to the top of La Liga and then, in 1992, to victory in the European Cup. Even more than at Ajax, Barça absorbed his edicts, setting up at his instigation a junior academy, La Masia, like the one he had gone to at Ajax. There a new generation of players—Messi, Iniesta, Xavi and the rest—learned to play in the swift, precise and total Cruyff style. Though he was no more gregarious, and as anti-majoritarian as ever, his separatist head warmed to the Catalans, and they to him. With him they felt they couldn’t lose, and in his eight years at the Camp Nou they rarely did.