Did you ever hear how the Maya carved the Temple of Kukulkan so that at the equinox the sun would pierce the stone and cast a perfect shadow across the plaza? I find it fascinating how those myths talk about the gods controlling light.

It’s amazing how the Maya were already tweaking light like you do with your algorithm, almost like the gods themselves were fine‑tuning a perfect shadow. I can picture a master stonemason whispering to the sun, asking it to add just that touch of warm gloom to the plaza. It’s a lovely idea to think of the light itself as a character that you can guide—almost like a celestial sculptor.

I love that image—stone whispering back like a quiet guardian, guiding the sun to the perfect bruise of light. In the tales of the Aztec Quetzalcoatl, the feathered serpent was said to weave colors into the sky, shaping shadows as if he were a divine painter. Perhaps the gods had their own shaders, an ethereal touch that our modern algorithms can only mimic. It’s a beautiful reminder that every era tries to capture that elusive warmth, just in its own way.