Paradox

The Cruel Paradox of Eternal Life

Gianni Sarcone

If there truly were a God, He would not promise eternal life. It would not be a reward but the most exquisite form of punishment. Hell may not be fire at all. It may simply be time that never ends.

What surprises me is how few believers seem to have stopped and asked what eternal life would actually mean for a mortal being. We long for immortality without ever considering its consequences, as though anything infinite must also be desirable.

Death is not merely the end of life; it is what gives life its shape. Without a horizon, there is no journey. Without an ending, there is no story. Life may have no inherent meaning, yet it is precisely its fragility that gives it value.

Eternity, by contrast, is an idea that would drive any intelligent mind to madness. Our lives are built around transitions. We leave childhood behind, then adolescence, then middle age. At every stage, part of us dies so that another version can emerge. We are never quite the same person twice. Death is simply the final transition, perhaps the only one that truly completes the narrative.

Mentally healthy people do not wish to live forever. They simply hope to live well, and for as long as it makes sense. Not to accumulate centuries, but to have enough time to do what matters to them, and then look back without feeling that everything important was endlessly postponed.

Eternity destroys urgency. Why create today what can always be created tomorrow? Why love now, travel now, write now, learn now, or take risks, if tomorrow never stops arriving? Infinity drains every moment of its value. It replaces desire with procrastination, curiosity with habit, and life with endless repetition.

We do not fear death as much as we fear leaving behind what we love. Yet perhaps death is what saves life from becoming meaningless. Without it, all that would remain is an eternity so vast that, in the end, it would erase even the memory of what it once meant to be alive.

The Geometry of Wonder

Gianni Sarcone
impossible objects: nested tribars

One of my finest sculptures: nested triangles, the central one in wood, the others in stainless steel…

nested tribars

Just kidding. It’s an impossible tribar composition — a sculpture that can exist only in the eye and the mind.

The Penrose triangle (or Penrose tribar) is generally credited to Roger Penrose, who, together with his father Lionel Penrose, published it in 1958 as an “impossible object.” However, the visual idea of creating paradoxical triangular forms and impossible geometries has older precedents.

Japanese visual culture is often mentioned in discussions of geometric illusion because Edo-period (1603–1868) art, decorative motifs, and craft traditions reveal a deep fascination with complex patterns, ambiguous spaces, and unconventional perspectives. Elements found in traditions such as sankaku mokkō (triangular motifs), karakusa patterns, architectural ornamentation, and woodworking designs show how Japanese artists and craftsmen explored visual structures that challenge perception. While no confirmed direct predecessor of the Penrose tribar has been identified in Japanese art, these examples belong to a broader historical tradition of creating forms that play with geometry and the limits of visual interpretation.

Japanese tribar

A glimpse below into traditional Japanese fabric patterns, where triangular designs reveal how interlaced geometry can create the sensation of impossible structures.

Kagome patterns

Triple Klein Bottle

Gianni Sarcone

Τριαλάβαστρον (Trialábastron), a triple Klein bottle, is an artistic exploration of Klein bottle geometry. In topology, the Klein bottle is a non-orientable surface that cannot be embedded in three-dimensional Euclidean space without self-intersection, though it can be smoothly realized in four dimensions.

A close relative is the Möbius strip, another non-orientable surface in three-dimensional space. On such surfaces, a continuous path can return to its origin with reversed orientation, revealing how geometry can twist the notion of inside and outside.

a triple Klein bottle

Here is another representation of a triple Klein bottle—UK sculptor Alan Bennett’s striking construction of three Klein bottles nested within one another. Of course, “inside” only applies in the sense of their embedding in physical space; from a topological standpoint, they remain entirely separate, non-interacting surfaces.

recursive Klein bottle

Your Brain vs. Geometry: Rooftop illusion

Gianni Sarcone

Believe it or not, the green and purple rooftops are congruent—identical in shape, size, and angles. What changes is not the geometry, but your perception of it. Perspective, orientation, and contextual cues lead your visual system to interpret the same form as two different structures.

rooftop illusion, related to shepard tables

This effect is closely related to Shepard’s tabletop illusion and earlier studies in which identical parallelograms (A and B), when rotated (and superimposed), are perceived as different shapes, as the brain prioritizes interpretation over measurement.

Since some still insist these roofs are not congruent, I’ve put together a short animation that shows otherwise.

animated rooftop illusion

Bear-ly Seal

Gianni Sarcone

People often ask where my ideas come from. There is no single answer. They tend to surface quietly, shaped by places I’ve seen and cultures I’ve crossed.

“Seal or Bear?” grew out of that kind of moment. An animal suspended in the vastness of a frozen world—emerging from an ice hole, yet refusing to settle into a single identity. Is it a polar bear? A seal? Or something that holds both readings at once?

Bear of seal?

The idea came to me while traveling through northern Canada, surrounded by the stillness of Arctic landscapes and the deep presence of Inuit traditions. That silence has a way of sharpening perception—of making ambiguity feel natural rather than puzzling.

First created in the 1990s, the illusion went on to become a reference point in visual perception studies and later found its way into textbooks.

More recently, the “Seal or Bear?” illusion will be featured by the NHK Educational Corporation as part of a 2026–2027 educational series on psychology and visual perception.

The Borromean Tribar

Gianni Sarcone

This form belongs to the family of impossible figures, more specifically to the Penrose triangle, or tribar.

impossible figure

At first glance, it looks entirely manufacturable. The structure appears to be made from three identical square rings (Fig. 1), each pierced by a circular opening and arranged in three mutually perpendicular planes (Fig. 2). Together, they seem to interlock seamlessly, forming an impossible three-dimensional tribar that evokes a trefoil knot and its endless over-under weaving.

If this sculpture looks physically realizable to you, congratulations: your visual system has just accepted a geometric impossibility.

the making of the borromean tribar

Could such an object be built? Not exactly. One solution would be to twist one of the junctions slightly, but that trick would be immediately noticeable here because some of the angles would no longer appear perfectly square (90°), as shown in the picture below. Another possibility would be to leave a small gap at one junction and view the sculpture from a carefully chosen angle, allowing perspective to hide the discontinuity.

This is how a real 3D Borromean Tribar would appear…

Impossible Beach Cabin

Gianni Sarcone
impossible house sketch

With summer just around the corner, I find myself drifting back to the shores of time, to this delightfully impossible little structure perched on the beach.

A drawing concept created for a children’s coloring book on optical illusions. Over the years, I’ve explored this theme through many curious and playful variations.

impossible house
Available as fine art print from my online gallery.

Are the kids engaging in creative activities inside the cabin or outside it?

The roof insists we’re looking at the exterior, while the floor pulls us firmly indoors. Both readings feel correct, yet they cancel each other out. So, there’s no clean resolution here—just a quiet visual paradox.

Curious to see more of my optical illusion book concepts, impossible worlds, and mind-bending creations? Take a stroll through my author page.

impossible house poster

The idea itself is far from new and has inspired countless artists, architects, and photographers. It even exists in three dimensions. A notable example is Roy Lichtenstein‘s House I (1996), an ingenious sculpture that appears to be a solid house but is actually a concave construction made of angled steel planes. As viewers move around it, the structure seems to rotate and reshape itself, turning perception into part of the artwork.

Beyond Constructible Forms: The Undecidable Bars

Gianni Sarcone

In 1934, the Swedish artist Oscar Reutersvärd sketched a peculiar triangle made of small cubes, neatly aligned on an isometric grid. Everything looked geometrically sound—until the mind tried to assemble it in real space.

Soon after, Lionel Penrose and Roger Penrose published their famous Penrose Triangle—three beams joined by apparently right-angled joints—and M. C. Escher explored similar paradoxes in works such as Waterfall and Ascending and Descending.

This triangular paradox has distant echoes in ancient Greek geometry, but Reutersvärd gave it a clear visual form: the impossible figure.

That’s the charm of impossible figures: every part looks right, yet the whole quietly breaks reality.

I began exploring these paradoxical structures in the 1980s. My interest grew naturally from the meeting point of two inclinations: a mathematical curiosity about spatial logic and a visual fascination with form. Over time I produced many variations—sometimes rediscovering ideas that others had already touched upon, occasionally arriving at configurations that felt genuinely new. In geometry, complete novelty is rare; most discoveries emerge as unexpected turns within an existing landscape.

One example from that period is the study shown here, created in the late 1990s and titled Undecidable Bars.

© Gianni A. Sarcone, 1997-2001

Parallel bars appear to run calmly side by side, yet their connections quietly sabotage the logic of space. Perspective slips from one segment to another, forcing the eye to accept incompatible viewpoints at the same time.

Each element seems perfectly normal.
Together, they form a structure that cannot exist.

Some bars appear to pass through others; some join where no joint should be possible. The geometry behaves as if the object were bending through space, while every line still respects the conventions of perspective drawing.

The result is an undecidable figure—a form the eye can follow effortlessly, but the mind cannot reconstruct.

Available as fine art print from my online gallery.

Over the years I have created hundreds of images built on similar principles, across different formats and media. If these works interest you for a book, exhibition, or monograph, feel free to contact me.

Here’s a simple 18-frame animation of my Op Art piece—work in progress.

IF: The Two-State Threshold

Gianni Sarcone

I’ve always been drawn to impossible objects—those forms that slip between logic and illusion, never fully settling into one or the other.

This piece grew out of an old idea I felt compelled to revisit, almost as if reopening a long-forgotten door. A binary door, in fact—one that leads to two distinct worlds. Depending on how you look at it, it shifts, tilts, and reveals something else.

It starts with pencil on paper. A loose, intuitive phase where the form finds its way. From there, I move into FreeHand MS—an old tool I’ve never quite let go of. It still gives me a certain precision and feel I can’t replace. Finally, I refine the piece in Photoshop, adjusting, balancing, pushing it toward that delicate point where everything holds together.

There’s still work to be done. Something remains unresolved—but maybe that tension is part of what keeps it alive.

When Water Decides to Defy Gravity

Gianni Sarcone

My minimalist tribute to M. C. Escher: an animated “impossible waterfall,” drawn frame by frame. It’s not exactly my usual artistic language, but I had great fun creating it, and I hope you’ll enjoy watching it as much as I enjoyed making it.

As you can see, the isometric structure links impossible angles to create a continuous water channel that appears to flow upward in a loop, falling from a high point yet seemingly returning to the top.

The “impossible waterfall,” reimagined in a lavish Rococo style, rendered as a surreal illustration for a book project.