The formula for ratio and proportion is a mathematical statement that looks as beautiful on paper as it does in the mind. One fraction set against another with only the equal sign between them. We see the charming symmetry, a rhythm a-birthing. It is a formula for discovering true relationships. One puts an “x” to replace any of the numbers; and then, with a quick magical operation of cross-multiplication and division, the correct value for “x.”
As he teaches drawing to a new batch of his art students he always asks: “Don’t you love numbers? Don’t you just love math? Those who do, raise your hands?”
Invariably, only a few do. In class of 15, perhaps 1 or 2 if not 0. And then he jokingly asks: What did your math teachers do to rape your minds this way? Numbers are wonderful. They are magic. And you cannot be a good artist unless you change your minds and learn to love them. For how else can you even choose the right size of canvas for a painting unless you know how to measure?
And if you did not have a use for numbers how could you ever tell what is beautiful? How else could you tell how green a tree is against that particular blue sky? How else could you see the correct shades of value? How else would you know how big the eyes are compared to the nose or the whole face? And what of scale? What of area and volume? How do you compute that unless you love numbers, unless you perfect your sense for ratio and proportion?
The whole genius of it is found in its simplicity. And it is this simplicity which makes it applicable to most human operations; for instance, an exchange of love.
How much does one love? Is it proportionate to how one is loved? Ratio and proportion is an arithmetical statement of relationship to describe all relationships. As I have been loved by my parents, and if not by them then by my country; or if not that, then by my God. Now also do I love myself. Now also do I love you.
The reverse is just as true. Hatred is also measured that way. You used gas to fight your war. Now we must bomb your cities. But how many bombs should we drop? How many targets must be blasted to the sky? What correct size of pinprick will answer the deaths of over a thousand, hundreds of them, children. They gasped for air to their deaths, you know. They frothed at the mouth finally going still on the cold hospital floor since all the beds were already occupied with the dead and dying.
But how many bombs will we need to exorcise this memory from our minds? That can range from bombing Damascus into a “howling wilderness” to dropping just a few shells over the bow of Assad’s sinking ship of state. Whatever, it is only a problem of simple arithmetic, only ratio and proportion.
The same ratio and proportion we do In our minds to make sense of so many millions of pesos of poor people’s money lost in a country where education and lifesaving medicine becomes for most impossible to obtain; where so many live in slums hungry and dismal. They traffic their own children to internet porn sites to put food on their tables. These millions of pesos were not lost to known thieves and criminals. They were lost to the country’s own leaders and their children, groomed for no less than the highest position of the land. They dream to be president one day.
What correct punishment do they deserve? Should the punishment be commensurate to the amounts they stole? How many millions of pesos for how many number of years in an air-conditioned cell or a hospital room somewhere? It is all very simple. It is only ratio and proportion.
And what of conscience? What of our own dreams for the future? To cleanse our country of this much corruption, how much good is expected from each of us? How much talking to each other will we need? How much outrage to be expressed? How many words to be written? To go against that much bad, how much good do we have to do? How many are we? Good divided by Evil equals Action divided by Hope.