Geometry -- Grief -- Beauty -- Story -- Fractal -- Beyond -- Appendix: More Math.

"This engaging short book is both a mathematician's reflections on grief and a mathematically-informed theory of grieving. Michael Frame retired in 2016 as a professor of mathematics at Yale University, where students fought for a place in his course on fractal geometry. Students appreciated his use of accessible examples- decalcomania paintings and illustrations of cats to explain mathematical concepts-and stories of his work and friendship with the founder of fractal geometry, Benoit Mandelbrot. In this book, he continues his work to make mathematics accessible, using his experiences with grief to give uninitiated readers insights into advanced topics in geometry. The inability to repeat an "aha moment", when you first learn something, is one type of grief that Frame examines. He connects this irreversible loss of perspective to more consequential grief-loss of a career or of a loved one-and explains ways he has thought mathematically about grieving and coping with grief. Frame is an authentic and sympathetic voice. He retired after discovering that he had an inoperable brain tumor and feeling the effects of his cancer on his teaching career. His connections and insights make this a timely and moving book in our time of personal and collective grief"--

A Sampler of Useful Computational Tools for Applied Geometry, Computer Graphics, and Image Processing shows how to use a collection of mathematical techniques to solve important problems in applied mathematics and computer science areas. The book discusses fundamental tools in analytical geometry and linear algebra. It covers a wide range of topics

THE SUNDAY TIMES BESTSELLER 'Immensely moving and disarmingly witty' Nigella Lawson 'Such a moving, tough, funny, raw, honest read' Matt Haig 'Beautifully written, moving and gut-wrenching, but also at times very funny' Ian Rankin 'Captures brilliantly, beautifully, bravely the comedy as well as the tragedy of bereavement' The Times 'Will strike a chord with anyone who has grieved' Independent Whether it is pastoral care for the bereaved, discussions about the afterlife, or being called out to perform the last rites, death is part of the Reverend Richard Coles's life and work. But when his partner the Reverend David Coles died, shortly before Christmas in 2019, much about death took Coles by surprise. For one thing, David's death at the early age of forty-three was unexpected. The man that so often assists others to examine life's moral questions now found himself in need of help. He began to look to others for guidance to steer him through his grief. The flock was leading the shepherd. Much about grief surprised him: the volume of 'sadmin' you have to do when someone dies, how much harder it is travelling for work alone, even the pain of typing a text message to your partner - then realising you are alone. The Reverend Richard Coles's deeply personal account of life after grief will resonate, unforgettably, with anyone who has lost a loved one.

Fractal geometry is a uniquely fascinating area of mathematics, exhibited in a range of shapes that exist in the natural world, from a simple broccoli floret to a majestic mountain range. In this essential primer, mathematician Michael Frame—a close collaborator with Benoit Mandelbrot, the founder of fractal geometry—and poet Amelia Urry explore the amazing world of fractals as they appear in nature, art, medicine, and technology. Frame and Urry offer new insights into such familiar topics as measuring fractal complexity by dimension and the life and work of Mandelbrot. In addition, they delve into less-known areas: fractals with memory, the Mandelbrot set in four dimensions, fractals in literature, and more. An inviting introduction to an enthralling subject, this comprehensive volume is ideal for learning and teaching.

After many years of watching the solemn lighting of seven candles at Rosh Hashanah, Eli finally learns how those candles represent his family's connection to the Holocaust in Lithuania.

Poetry. There is something wondrously imponderable about the title of Nancy Botkin's latest poetry collection: the next infinity. What would that be like, the something that comes after everything? After negotiating one's way through religion, through the legacy and loss of parents, through a past receding "small and dim" as the memories of scratchy songs on an AM car radio, through moments fleeting like "ice cream melting faster than we could eat it." At another point she observes, "I'm starting to wonder if I'm in this poem / all by myself." A bit later, in the same poem, she asks "if we are keepers of our own asylum." By unpacking the experience of radical isolation in such unflinching terms, Botkins reveals how we are each our own infinity. And because we share this, we are not so alone after all. It's a lot to think about, and at times she acts as if she'd rather not: "My brain is even less inviting / when it's wild with dark birds flitting / through its spangled hallways." Perhaps less inviting to Botkin, but it is a blessing to her readers who join with those birds flitting through the hallway of her rich imagination. The final image of the book is a cosmic parlor trick, and perhaps that is all life is. And if so, these poems assure us, that's enough.