an idea

an idea anode diode light electrics flow to a corridor of mutual closeness to an effect of joyous enlightenment, as a practice of happenstance, happily then dancing with the other lighted electrons in the rows and in singular yet combinatory fashioned creatures of livity, levity in fact to carry their others and thus encourage the initial to carry them and onward and carry on with activities to further carry the joyousness of the idea, in any manor which is similar and liking to the electrons still at work, and in the body who nourished the brain stemmed heady to perform this feat of perhaps magic, only if you wish it to be, but more likely you wish others to celebrate themselves in their concert of efforts to provide your body these feats and carry them onward with and around you for their times of activities and preferences as well and well.

. . .

our mathematician has a large chalkboard in his office.  he has half solved maths onboard, and is happy to fill them in with squiggles of known precepts, and that provides the solution he requires in his time in which his electrons wish it, and yet to be solved, needs those other precepts, which were likely his study of others, as he studies maths for the reasoning of studying, and so what else is there.  

he sits with his board to his front, perhaps chalk in hand, altho likely he prefers a whiteboard, or perhaps he doesn't like the smell of the pens, or perhaps his office is filled with the smell and the colors.  he may keep a notebook to carry with him to the coffee shop, with a brown hat.. mathematicians like brown hats.  and its an old one.. to indicate the term of maths in his mind and body, and perhaps because he can't get to a shop which can adequately supply a new one to his liking, or perhaps he made a trip to a place for a souvenir, sought or delivered into his eyes, or he made a day of it in town with a specific shape in mind.

this is how mathematicians think, and they do this because they work around an equals sign, and they fiddle around with both sides as their unbalanced, and to what degree they choose to work in a magical moment where nobody but their own brain can know what to write, and this is their excitement, and still they must hurry or keep it in their mind gates during that period to not waste strokes with the simpler cancellations, or perhaps they write them in anyway, depending on if they believe they'll need two or three of a number to present a furthering of a symbol or subset equation

. . .

his name is joe, or is it.  its like Evonlivijik, but the slate says Evon, or eva, or his lab neighbor calls out to him, E!  his shirt is classy and worn, perhaps a papery silk and not stained but crinkly.  his office is quiet and the coffee is nearby but not abused.  he uses it for when company arrives, and he has tiny cups, because that distinguishes him.  

. . .

his students are long and away, but they still come to visit him, and they have their own lives in the various utilization of maths, for the pursuits of their own joys. . . and they like his little cups. 

. . .

one particular visitor is Joya, and she comes with her art that is at a local art museum, and she brings to him her sketchbook to review, in that he enjoys watching the origins of work and often uses such times to distract and still encourage his brain, as his pen is at his side, and the equation half written on the back board.

. . .

the sketchbook is fashion, and the lines are straight and belled towards the bottom, as in a dress, semi starched looking with an open front, and stark lines and lapels at the top.  and the boots are black and shiny vinyl, and the top is white with a pleated shoulder. 

she draws a few hats as well, in the hands of the model, and her selection of colors, as a palette to work from.

. . .

E flips through the book, which is an acid-free sketchbook which flips from the top, and is slightly larger than photographic paper, and its mostly filled, and so he spends some time as she begins to organize his desk a bit as she talks about the pieces.  just a bit, to clear away a plate of food and put the salt and pepper back near the coffee.

she sees him taking pause at a particular section of the book, and she hesitates and looks gently back to eye what he's considering about it, in that brain which is designed to solve, and solvent is the design.

. . .

'its swimwear.. she pops around and looks'

a yellow string bikini, which is squared off, and semi triangular as well, and also pleated

'or so it would seem.. that's how she holds it to her body'

Evon was still considering kinesthetics and admired Joya's abilities to purvey an idea of her emotion to an emotion as emotive is, and her choices indicate the model, drawn, choice to show how just and what a piece it was, at those angles and with those charcoal palettes.

Joya enjoyed that he put his maths aside and altered his consciousness to be around people, and just always seemed to enjoy everything which was in front of him, and so she thought the maths must be good, and they were because she kept coming back every so a time she had something exciting to show, and when the orientation of her timelines and the people of and around her were liken to provide for her time away for her time, and etc.

. . .

'the corollary is correlated for a reasoning, don't you find?'  was his comment in his usual math speak.  'I get stuck on that one sometimes, until I remember not to remember it, or perhaps I get flooded and then dry out and then that's when the spark occurs'

. . .

'the ideas as a continuation work for me as well, I mean the dress flows like the concept flows, and yes it starts with a flash, and how steady I can maintain my pencil while the image is still there, just to the side, and while not looking directly towards that screen on my brain, I can follow the lines and all the lines as a rough sketch and continue on to the point where it needs to split, and then carry on with it, to another page perhaps and i take a bit of enjoyment to switch the pencil and see also what is going on around me, and sip on my small cups too.. and I work alone but with people always thinking around me.'

. . .

she was soaking up his brain.  'so that's why you visit me.. nice workings, and it works..aesthetics are a unique maths that has been researched much in its artificial creation, and by creation, I mean just so'  he turned around.  and pointed. often and around

 . . .

you see committing to an idea, brings us to the levels of complexity we're willing to put into our ability to see the next desired line or material, as per not only physics, but the purity of the amount of change we wish and its speed.  

 . . .

he pointed around some more

. . .

the edits are unnecessary, and as shown in an algorithm, or sets of them, really.  he dipped down to the third row on his board, it doesn't matter to one or the other from its past or its origin, but at its direction spin and velocity towards its proposal, which is automatic and indicative as these processes meet in space time.  the dress, thus makes itself to the body, and the mind conceptualizes the body towards a perfect dress, and so we have the tangent lines of material to skin, and how we wish to show or shield the body and to what comfort that will provide the mind to see and bodies to enjoy.  and making such a dress should be an art as well, and left to that artist, or in our case, another algorithm trained in such matters, with the guidance of humans, or plants or animals if you'd ike, in their movements at their stages to provide for this dumb mathematician to write it down.

'of course it won't work like that' she stated smiling and plainly

'of course it won't, the interception of natural messaging in an algorithm to produce a spark of nature, for an eternity at least is quite impossible, but the maths always work.. lucky I got stuck into it because it would drive me mad to think my work was impossible'  he grinned.

'but that's a poor way to treat humanity, with a dusty paper which can never be implemented to a specification you desire. '

'its not specified, and as it turns out these are reticulating leaves and caterpillars on these boards today.. see there's a little one there' he gestured to the E on the sideline margin, drawn in just as he was talking, and he smiled at the board, smirked, and put the pen down..  then he looked up, and down at the board, stopped, and sat back down and re-opened the notebook

Joya was impressed by the caterpillar marking. it almost looked like one..  

'and that is the point, he glided back over to the board and put a dot in its upper right'

'oh'

she looked at her watch.  it was an analog, by choice that it be electric and not wound, and that it was also picked up as an item of pleasure at a time, she grinned, when she needed to watch out for things, and the shop was open and it was near the front, and her eye fell on the first perfect form she found, and she tried to look at the others, but this one was perfect, and she had it wrapped in tissue paper, and a small box as if it were a gift, and she opened it towards the coffee stand in a wide open mall, and put it on as she sat and sipped, and then she played with it for a while, to make it comfortable, and stretched the straps a bit, and hopped they would weather in time, and that the weather would remain for a time and time again to make it from place to place, and to-date, that has been the occurrence, over and over, like, and well clockwork.

she thought more to herself as Evon occupied himself with her sketches.  she noted the word, form-ula, as in Dracula, and she wondered what a drac was, one who sucks, she supposed, but ula, well you must have to say it like that muhahahaha, she chuckled out loud, and Evon looked up and then back down.

there was a commotion outside and she hastened her ideas to a present of presentry, which although she didn't mind sticking around, she'd had her cup and as her usual gift, filled in a bit of the board with her presence, she felt, and she. . . 'hey would you like to keep that for a bit? its done.. I mean the stuff is at the show already, and its near end season for my work done'

'no, I'll walk you out if that's where you're heading.' he said as he closed the book from the top and stood up with it.  'I wanted to pick up a periodical at the newsstand .. it doesn't matter which one yet, but that it be current and something i can keep for a bit'

'oh good' she took the booklet towards her as he offered, and they turned and she grabbed her purse and they went side through the office door and down to the front and out to steps and a curvy sidewalk for a bit and chattered about her show that evening and who she had got to wear her materials, and who was there from last year, and she showed off her socks, at one point during a brief in the walk, as she liked them and she was talking about and towards other artists she liked'

they walked, and to the newsstand, where it began to rain a bit, as junctions in changes in activity often, for Evon, lead to a change in the weather.  and 'you don't want to get those socks wet, would you like one?' he motioned to the newsman and an umbrella, as she look at him from the side and considered it.  

'nah, too much to carry, and it would have to be the perfect umbrella, and anyway I like the rain today, or so I think'.  

'the perfect umbrella doesn't exist here, I agree,' he scowl-smiled at the newstaker and got a nod down and a turn while Evon and Joya said their goodbyes for now'

she pecked him on the cheek. 'that's for the offer' she smiled and bobbed away down the street, and he saw her hail a yellow taxi just as before the mainstay of rain was to drop, and she got in and tucked her dress into the door and drove off.

the sky in evidence agreed with her watch on this one too, and E did look up just a bit, but not past the horizon, and he eye bobbed a bit to the left as he scratched that corner of his brain for his next activity, popping the periodical, a popular science magazine, and under his arm and on further, under some awnings and around and back a bit to his flat to rest, and then a light supper.

. . .

leaving our characters to their own now, is their choice in levity and brevity for them to offer me mine and yours as well, and as they carry on in their vectors and vectrocities, we carry ourselves forward in our duties to disseminate the punch up punched tape punch out, knock out gluey ueons for you to glue your bluey bits towards up and about, and at a time, we hope this broadcast will liken you to do similarly, as Evon and Joya, although I'd like it if she were Abra, and maybe she is now.. its that kind of show tonight -- here's with all the pieces on the table of peacery to jiggle and jaggle saw puzzle pie sauce style to the glue motter frotter bay, by the side and up and under about and etc, this is love preceding by aqua q c 3 w