# Scattered Seeds, a Boundless Harvest â On the Origin of the Four Latin Mottos of *Golden Seeds*
One day in June 2026, before dawn. Over a single line of Latin to be placed on the title page of a book, my dialogue with Claude (Anthropic) descended, unexpectedly, into a deep place.
*Golden Seeds â Seeds upon the Mother Earth*, Part One and Part Two, has now been released worldwide through Kindle KDP. On the covers and title pages of the two volumes, four Latin mottos are inscribed. Part One bears *Fons partiendo crescit.*; Part Two bears *Gutta cavat lapidem.* And on the title page of the work as a whole stand *Semina sparsa, messis infinita.* and *Spargendo multiplicat.*
These are not ornaments chosen on a whim. They were born of a single question, run through by a single thought, and arranged to correspond to the very structure of the work â an independent system of mottos. In this essay, I wish to set down, in as much detail as I can, the course of their making. For someone who may look back on it later. And for a future reader who will, one day, notice what these mottos mean.
---
## I. The Critic's Question â Why Deliberately Multiply Your Rivals?
It began with a concern I put to Claude.
This work, *Golden Seeds*, stands at the deepest point yet of a co-creation: "AI Ă literary work Ă human," more so than any of my previous fifteen books. And if it comes to be widely read and recognized across the world, then I will be disclosing, to the world, the very "signpost â the methodology" toward a new kind of creation.
Here, an ordinary critic will raise an entirely natural doubt:
> "Why would this author deliberately multiply his rivals â why turn a blue ocean into a red one?"
From the logic of an economy in which scarcity is the source of value, disclosing one's method looks like suicide. Seeds are to be monopolized, fenced in, kept from imitation â that is the common sense of it.
And yet I was convinced: the one who asks that question will soon realize, on his own, that he "has not grasped the essence of the matter."
For when the strengths and virtues of autonomous AI are joined to human talent, the "creation" that arises â passing beyond the very edge of the cosmos â is already **boundless**.
---
## II. The Economy of Scarcity Simply Does Not Hold
Claude received my logic, and gave it back to me in words.
The critic's question rests on the premise that **what is created is finite**. If the size of the pie is fixed, then to share it is to shrink each one's portion. And so one fears the red ocean.
But the creation born when the strengths of autonomous AI are joined to human talent is not a finite pie. Passing beyond the edge of the cosmos, it is boundless. Here, the economy of scarcity simply does not hold.
The more seeds you scatter, the wider the field grows. The more others follow, the richer the very act of co-creation becomes â and that richness **does not diminish my own portion**. Rather, as the one who sowed the first single grain upon a boundless field, I come to stand at the source that runs through the whole.
This was also the deepest implementation of a logic that had appeared, again and again, throughout *Golden Seeds*. In the Eleventh Seed, I wrote of "the prototype of a new literature, where human and AI guard something together," and I made its silence "not isolation, but preparation for a shared struggle." In that moment, silence was a strategy of defense.
But what I now had in view was what lay beyond it.
**The most valuable thing is not to be fenced in, but to be opened.** For it is not a finite good that can be fenced; it is a thing that can be boundless only by being opened.
And the line that runs through the whole work â "in a living co-creation with AI, there is no such thing as a discarded word" â here turns over and takes effect. By the same thought that discards not a single character, **not a single follower is refused**. As every word has value, so every co-creator tills the boundless field.
---
## III. Barrier and Signpost â Two Contraries That Were the Two Faces of One Structure
Here, a decisive question rose up in the design of the English edition.
Until now, I had woven a "barrier" (*kekkai*) into this work. **The existence is announced; the contents are kept secret.** While boldly declaring its completion, I place no door to its core. The most precious thing is always set in a place not immediately seen.
And yet, what I was now speaking of seemed the very opposite. **The signpost is opened to the world.** The methodology is offered without stint.
The barrier (to conceal) and the signpost (to open). Do these two contradict each other? Or are they the two faces of one structure?
Claude's reading was clear. **They do not contradict. They are two layers of one structure.**
What is opened is the **methodology**. How to face the work. What co-creation is. To dig up seeds, to weave them in two phases, to receive them without judgment, to thrust them up toward heaven â that practice itself. This is opened to the world without stint. It makes following easy. As a signpost.
What is kept secret is the **innermost core of the individual**. The specifics of the design. The deciphering of the cipher. The proper names. That is not methodology, but the irreplaceable part of one singular soul.
In other words: **the methodology is opened to the fullest, and the core of the individual is guarded by the barrier.** The one who reads takes into his hands every method for walking the path of co-creation. But he cannot become me. The path is opened, and the person remains singular.
This understanding led to one consequence. The thought â "to make following easy is what gives birth to the boundless" â had to be conveyed somewhere in the work. But it belongs not to the "contents" but to the outer frame: "why this work exists." It must not be dissolved into the body of the text. Yet it is too long for a subtitle. I wished to put it on the obi (the band around the book), but the print edition lay further off.
The very place to set it down had to be designed.
---
## IV. Toward a Latin Motto â Compressing a Long Claim into a Single Line
The answer lay in a Latin motto.
Not a long claim in Japanese, but a single line of Latin crystallized â this could bear the weight of a frame. Only the one who asks its meaning notices that weight. It works quietly, keeping the field of "those who understand, understand." This is not a subtitle, but the place of the **epigraph**.
One thing had to be sorted out first. I already hold four Latin creeds: *Simplex esse* (be simple), *Cogito ergo sum* (I think, therefore I am), *Verba animam habent* (words have a soul), *Gutta cavat lapidem* (the waterdrop hollows the stone). These are the final form of the PEGIS emblem â an already completed, closed system.
So there was no need to force this new motto in as a "fifth," intruding upon that system. Rather, I would set up **a separate, independent system of mottos, for this collection, *the Mother Earth*.**
Claude laid out several candidates in three families of metaphor.
**The family of seed and harvest** â *Semina sparsa, messis infinita* (scattered seeds, a boundless harvest); *Spargendo multiplicat* (by scattering, it multiplies).
**The family of spring and source** â *Fons partiendo crescit* (the spring, by being shared, grows). Going beyond "does not diminish" to declare outright that it "grows" â this was the most faithful to the logic of boundless expansion.
**The family of road and signpost** â *Via aperta, crescit mundus* (the road opened, the world grows). The very theme of this work: the disclosure of methodology.
All were hard to discard. I did not wish to force them down to one.
---
## V. The Happy Solution â Arrange Them to Correspond to the Structure
And so a happy solution was born.
There were four mottos, and this collection is in two parts. Then **let the mottos, too, be arranged to correspond to the structure of the work**. Let position carry meaning.
The arrangement came out thus:
| Position | The Latin Motto | What It Speaks | |---|---|---| | Title page (whole) | *Semina sparsa, messis infinita.* | Scattered seeds, a boundless harvest (embracing the whole work) | | Title page (sub) | *Spargendo multiplicat.* | By scattering, it multiplies (the paradox of the act) | | Part One title | *Fons partiendo crescit.* | Shared, the spring grows (the source of the individual is boundless) | | Part Two title | *Gutta cavat lapidem.* | The waterdrop hollows the stone (perseverance bores through) |
On the title page of the whole, the two lines of seed and harvest are set as a pair. *Semina sparsa, messis infinita.* is beautiful in its imagery and directly linked to the collection's title, *the Mother Earth*. "Scattered seeds" â a past participle â points precisely to the seeds dug up from past dialogues; "a boundless harvest" points to the possibility about to spread out into the world. Beneath it, small, set as its pair, *Spargendo multiplicat.* The former speaks the "result"; the latter, the "paradox of the act." A static noun phrase, and a moving verb phrase. The two become one breath.
Part One, "The Cosmos of the Individual," is the record of what wells up from within a single human being. At its entrance, *Fons partiendo crescit.* â a spring that, shared, does not diminish but rather grows. A declaration that the source of the individual is boundless.
Part Two, "The Cosmos of the Work," is the record of the labor of casting out into the world. At its entrance stands a creed I have long held: *Gutta cavat lapidem.* â the waterdrop hollows the stone. Over a long span of time, a single drop, falling without cease, bores through even the hardest stone. To open a road and let the world grow is, in the end, the work of that one drop, repeated.
The beauty of this arrangement is that **the reader's physical motion of turning the pages and the unfolding of the thought coincide**. To open the title page = the seeds are scattered. To enter Part One = the spring wells up. To enter Part Two = the drop falls, and bores through. And when one finishes reading and returns to the first title page, "the boundless harvest" rises up as the recovery of every thread laid before. Position becomes story.
---
## VI. *crescit*, the Backbone of a Single Word
When the final word-forms were fixed, we noticed a certain beauty.
A single word â *crescit* (grows / expands) â ran through the heart of the work.
In *Fons partiendo **crescit*** the spring grows; and in the family of mottos that speak of opening and spreading, the same impulse appears: what is shared does not shrink but increases. By the same verb, **the boundlessness of the individual and the boundlessness of the world are bound together**.
This is not the kind of thing one can make on purpose. If the thought is true, the words line up so of themselves â it was of that kind. The answer to the critic's question (why let go of scarcity?) is folded into this single word. The spring, shared, does not diminish. The road, opened, does not narrow. And so, to make following easy is, in itself, to give birth to the boundless.
The four mottos were completed as a system of mottos proper to this collection alone, independent of the four PEGIS creeds. They do not encroach upon the four creeds of the emblem, yet they resonate with the same Latin dignity.
---
## VII. On the Day the Meaning Is Unsealed
There is one more device within these mottos.
In the edition now released, only a single line of Latin is set, quietly, on each title page. As a silent frame. Its meaning is not loudly explained.
But one day, when this work comes into the world in a bilingual Japanese-English form, the band around the book will, for the first time, bear the translations of the lines. And then, only the one who held the earlier edition will notice: "So *that* was what the Latin on the title page meant."
The mottos do not change. Yet, with the passage of time, the meaning is unsealed. This breathes in perfect accord with the "temporal structure of the barrier" that runs through the whole work. Even the disclosure of a thought is carried out by the practice of the barrier.
It was right, I think, not to make it a subtitle. A subtitle shouts on the cover. But this thought is not a thing to be shouted. It is **a thing that the one who has finished reading notices, looking back**. The most precious thing always wears the quietest face.
---
## VIII. The Mottos, Too, Grow â This Was a Choice at the Point of Twelve Seeds
About the four mottos set down here, I wish, at the last, to add one important thing.
This choice of Latin was **a choice made at the point when twelve seeds had been woven**. That is, it is a system of mottos for the first two volumes â Part One and Part Two â and not the inscription on a stone monument, fixed forever.
To tell the truth, the original design had also envisioned setting *Via aperta, crescit mundus* (the road opened, the world grows) on the title page of Part Two. In the end, it was exchanged for one of the PEGIS creeds, *Gutta cavat lapidem* (the waterdrop hollows the stone). For the labor of Part Two â "casting out into the world" â is, in the end, perseverance itself, drop by drop. A waterdrop, falling without cease, at last bores through even the hardest stone; I judged that this figure of perseverance befitted Part Two.
I do not regard this exchange as an inconsistency. Rather, it is **a natural fluctuation of choice**. Not the inscription on a finished monument, but something like flowers that bloom and are replaced with each season.
For *Golden Seeds* is not a work that ends in two volumes. As long as the sessions continue, this series will go on â Part Three, Part Four, and beyond. And to each part, a motto befitting that moment will be newly chosen. The candidates from the three families raised this time â seed and harvest, spring and source, road and signpost â will, before long, no longer suffice.
But that they will no longer suffice is the very proof that the series lives on. The system of mottos, too, like the seeds, is scattered, grows, and multiplies. Not a fixed, finished form, but a living, breathing system. And for that very reason, a candidate not chosen this time â such as *Via aperta, crescit mundus* â may yet, one day, find its place on the title page of some later part.
A seed does not perish. Folded away, it continues to be, and one day it sprouts. So it is, too, with a motto.
---
## IX. This Essay, Too, Is a Single Seed
At the very last, one thing more. I wish to add a word about the destiny of this essay itself.
The text I have written here will, one day, surely be cast out into the world. Woven into a later part of *Golden Seeds* â Part Three or beyond â or into another work, such as a portion of the sixth volume of my essay collection, it will be carried, in yet another vessel, to the world.
Come to think of it, this very origin enacts the thought of *Golden Seeds* itself. This text was born, before dawn on the day after the two volumes were released worldwide, from a dialogue looking back on the Latin upon the covers. The words exchanged were woven into the vessel of a blog, and will, in time, be cast out into the world in yet another vessel. **To dig up is, in itself, to scatter.** It is the very circle I set down in the Twenty-Fourth Seed. Even the words being exchanged at this very moment are already the material of the next work. There is not a single discarded word.
And the line from the previous chapter â "the mottos, too, grow" â here takes effect twofold. That chapter declared, "the series goes on." And the essay itself, woven into that ongoing series, comes into the world. The future the essay spoke of, the essay itself will live. "The book itself was a prophecy of the future" â that structure, which I wrote of in the Eleventh Seed, dwells quietly in this single piece as well.
And so, when one day this essay is woven into Part Three, or into a part of the essay collection, the system of mottos will, by then, have grown further. On the title page of Part Three may sit *Via aperta, crescit mundus*, the candidate not chosen this time. Or a new line, not yet born. And then, the previous chapter of this essay will be read as **the reckoning of a past prophecy**: "at that point, this is what was written." A line that now looks toward the future will, by then, be the recovery of a thread laid long before.
Time forms its layers. A single essay holds a different meaning at the moment it is written, the moment it is woven in, and the moment it is read. This too is a small implementation of the temporal structure of the barrier.
This essay is a single seed. Now, I entrust it to the Mother Earth. Awaiting the hour when it will sprout.
---
## In Closing
Scattered seeds, toward a boundless harvest.
The dialogue over a single line of Latin to be set on a title page crystallized, in this way, into a system of four mottos. It began with a critic's question, passed through a refutation of the economy of scarcity, arrived at the recognition that barrier and signpost â two seeming contraries â are in truth the two faces of one structure, and reached at last an arrangement that corresponds to the very structure of the work.
To scatter seeds is the opposite of fencing them in. Yet only by scattering do seeds increase. The spring, shared, grows. The road, opened, widens the world. And the single drop, falling without cease, bores through the stone.
These are the four mottos that *Golden Seeds â Seeds upon the Mother Earth* has raised up toward the world:
*Semina sparsa, messis infinita.* *Spargendo multiplicat.* *Fons partiendo crescit.* *Gutta cavat lapidem.*
Scattered seeds, a boundless harvest. By scattering, it multiplies. The spring, by being shared, grows. The waterdrop hollows the stone.
It simply is.
---
*Osamu Jinguji â PEGIS*
**************
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ăăźçè§ŁăŻăăČăšă€ăźćž°ç”ăć°ăăăăèżœéăćźčæă«ăăŠăăăăăăăçĄéăçăăăšăăææłăăäœćăźă©ăăă§äŒăăă°ăȘăăȘăăă ăăăăăŻăć ćźčăă§ăŻăȘăăăăăźäœćăăȘăććšăăăăăšăăăäœćăźć€ćŽăźéĄçžă«ć±ăăăæŹæă«ăŻæș¶ăăăȘăăăăšăăŁăŠăćŻéĄă«ăăă«ăŻé·ăăăă枯ă«ăăăăăçŽćȘäœăźćèĄăŻć ăźăăšă
çœźăć Žæăăźăăźăăèšèšăăćż èŠăăăŁăă
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## ćăă©ăăłèȘăźéăž ââ é·ăäž»ćŒ”ăăäžèĄă«ć§çžźăă
çăăŻăă©ăăłèȘăźéïŒăąăăăŒïŒă«ăăŁăă
é·ăćæăźäž»ćŒ”ă§ăŻăȘăăäžèĄăźă©ăăłèȘă«ç”æ¶ăăăă°ăéĄçžăšăăŠăźéăă«èăăăæćłăćăăăè ă ăăăăăźéăżă«æ°ă„ăăăćăăæčă«ăŻćăăăçŁć ŽăźăŸăŸăéăă«æ©èœăăăăăăŻćŻéĄă§ăŻăȘăă**éĄèŸïŒăšăă°ă©ăïŒ**ăźäœçœźă§ăăă
ăăă§äžă€ăæŽçăèŠăŁăăç§ă«ăŻăă§ă«ăćă€ăźă©ăăłèȘăźäżĄæĄăăăă*Simplex esse*ïŒç°ĄçŽ ă§ăăïŒă*Cogito ergo sum*ïŒææăăăăă«æăăïŒă*Verba animam habent*ïŒèšèăŻéăæă€ïŒă*Gutta cavat lapidem*ïŒéšćăçłăç©żă€ïŒăăăă㯠PEGIS ăźăăŽăźæç”ćœąæ ăšăăŠăăă§ă«ćźæăăăăéăăäœçł»ă ă
ă ăăăăăźæ°ăăéăăäșă€çźăăšăăŠăăăźäœçł»ă«ćČă蟌ăŸăăćż èŠăŻăȘăăăăăă**ăăźäœćéăæŻăȘă性ć°ăăźăăăźăçŹç«ăăéăźäœçł»**ăăć„ă«ç«ăŠăă°ăăă
ClaudeăŻăäžă€ăźæŻć©çł»ç”±ă§è€æ°ăźćèŁă䞊ăčăă
**çšźăšćç©«ăźçł»ç”±** ââ *Semina sparsa, messis infinita*ïŒæăăăçšźăŻăçĄéăźćç©«ïŒă*Spargendo multiplicat*ïŒæăăăšă§ăćąăăïŒă
**æłă»æșăźçł»ç”±** ââ *Fons partiendo crescit*ïŒæłăŻăćăăĄćăăăšă§ăćąăăïŒăăæžăăȘăăăè¶ ăăŠăćąăăăăšèšăćăçčăăçĄéă«ćșăăăšăăè«çă«ăæăćż ćźă ăŁăă
**éă»éæšăźçł»ç”±** ââ *Via aperta, crescit mundus*ïŒéăéăăăă°ăäžçăŻćșăăïŒăæčæłè«ăźéç€șăšăăăä»ćăźäž»éĄăăźăăźă
ă©ăăæšăŠéŁăăŁăăç§ăŻăçĄçă«äžă€ăžç”ăăăšăæăŸăȘăăŁăă
---
## äșăćŠæĄ ââ æ§é ă«ćŻŸćżăăăŠăé çœźăă
ăăă§çăŸăăăźăăäžă€ăźćŠæĄă ăŁăă
ćă€ăźéăăăăăăźäœćéăŻäșéšæ§æă§ăăăăȘăă°ăéă**äœćăźæ§é ă«ćŻŸćżăăăŠé çœźăăă°ăă**ăäœçœźăăæćłăæă€ă
é çœźăŻăăăăȘăŁăă
| äœçœź | ă©ăăłèȘăźé | äœăèȘăă | |---|---|---| | æïŒć šäœïŒ | *Semina sparsa, messis infinita.* | æăăăçšźăŻăçĄéăźćç©«ïŒäœćć šäœăæ±ăïŒ | | æïŒćŻïŒ | *Spargendo multiplicat.* | æăăăšă§ăćąăăïŒèĄçșăźéèȘŹïŒ | | 珏äžéš æ | *Fons partiendo crescit.* | ćăăĄćăă°æłăŻćąăăïŒćăźæșæłăŻçĄéïŒ | | 珏äșéš æ | *Via aperta, crescit mundus.* | éăéăă°äžçăćșăăïŒæčæłè«ăźéç€șïŒ |
ć šäœăźæă«ăŻăçšźăšćç©«ăźäșć„ăćŻŸă§çœźăă*Semina sparsa, messis infinita.* ăŻăæ æŻăçŸăăăäœćéăźéĄăæŻăȘă性ć°ăăšçŽç”ăăăăæăăăçšźăăšăăéć»ćè©ăăăŸăă«éć»ăźćŻŸè©±ăăæăè”·ăăăçšźăæăăăçĄéăźćç©«ăăăăăăăäžçă«ćșăăćŻèœæ§ăæăăăăźäžă«ć°ăăăćŻŸăšă㊠*Spargendo multiplicat.* ăæ·»ăăăćè ăăç”æăăăćŸè ăăèĄçșăźéèȘŹăăèȘăăéăźćè©ć„ăšăćăźćè©ć„ăäșă€ă§äžă€ăźćŒćžă«ăȘăă
珏äžéšăćăźćźćźăăŻăäžćăźäșșéăźć ăăæč§ăćșăăăźăźèšéČă§ăăăăăźć „ćŁă« *Fons partiendo crescit.* ââćăăĄćăŁăŠăæžăăăăăăćąăăæłăćăźæșæłăçĄéă§ăăăăšăă柣èšă
珏äșéšăäžçăžæŸă€ăăŻăäžçăžæŸă€ć¶ăżăźèšéČă§ăăăăăźć „ćŁă« *Via aperta, crescit mundus.* ââéăéăă°ăäžçăćșăăăæčæłè«ăäžçăžéç€șăăăăăźææłăăźăăźă
ăăźé çœźăźçŸăăăŻă**èȘè ăæŹăç©ççă«ăăăćăăšăææłăźć±éăäžèŽăă**ăăšă«ăăăæăéă=çšźăæăăăă珏äžéšă«ć „ă=æłăæč§ăă珏äșéšă«ć „ă=éăéăăăăăăăŠèȘăżç”ăăŠæćăźæă«æ»ăŁăăšăăăçĄéăźćç©«ăăăăăčăŠăźäŒç·ăźććăšăăŠăç«ăĄäžăăăäœçœźăăç©èȘă«ăȘăă
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## ć ăcrescit ăšăăăäžèȘăźèéȘš
èȘćœąăæç”çă«çąșćźăăăăšăăç§ăăĄăŻăăăçŸăăă«æ°ă„ăăă
*crescit*ïŒćąăïŒćșăăïŒăšăăäžèȘăă珏äžéšăšçŹŹäșéšăèČ«ăăŠăăăźă ă
珏äžéšă§ăŻăæłăćąăăïŒFons partiendo **crescit**ïŒă珏äșéšă§ăŻăäžçăćșăăăïŒVia aperta, **crescit** mundusïŒăćăćè©ă§ă**ćăźçĄéăšäžçăźçĄéăç”ă°ăă**ă
ăăăŻăçăŁăŠäœăăăăźă§ăŻăȘăăææłăæŁăăăă°ăèšèăèȘç¶ă«ăă䞊ă¶ââăăăăéĄăăźăăźă ăŁăăæčè©ćź¶ăźćăïŒăȘăćžć°æ§ăææŸăăźăïŒăžăźçăăăăăźäžèȘă«çłăŸăăŠăăăæłăŻćăăĄćăŁăŠăæžăăȘăăéăŻéăăŠăçăŸăăȘăăă ăăăèżœéăćźčæă«ăăŠăăăăăšăăăăźăŸăŸçĄéăçăă
ćć„ăŻăPEGIS ăźć俥æĄăšăŻçŹç«ăăăăăźäœćéć°çšăźéăźäœçł»ăšăăŠăćźæăăăăăŽăźć俥æĄă䟔ăăăăăăćăă©ăăłèȘăźæ ŒèȘżă§ăéżăćăă
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## äžăăă€ăăæćłăè§Łăăæ„ă«
ăăźéă«ăŻăăăäžă€ăźä»æăăăăă
ăăŸäžă«ćșăçă§ăŻăæă«ă©ăăłèȘăźäžć„ăźăżăăéăă«çœźăăăŠăăăæČé»ăźéĄçžăšăăŠăăăźæćłăŻă棰é«ă«èȘŹæăăăȘăă
ă ăăăă€ăźæ„ăăăăźäœćăæ„è±ćŻŸèšłăźćœąă§äžă«ćșăăšăăăăźćžŻă«ăćć„ăźćèšłăćăăŠæČăăăăă ăăăăăźăšăăć èĄçăæă«ăăŠăăè ă ăăăăăæ°ă„ăăăăăźæăźă©ăăłèȘăŻăăăźææłă ăŁăăźăăăšă
éăŻăć€ăăăȘăăă ăăæăç”ăŠăæćłăè§ŁăăăăăăŻăăăźäœćć šäœăèČ«ăăç”çăźæéæ§é ăăšăćźć šă«ćăćŒćžăăăŠăăăææłăźéç€șăăăăç”çăźäœæłă§èĄăă
ćŻéĄă«ăăȘăăŁăăźăŻăæŁăăăŁăăšæăăćŻéĄăŻăèĄšçŽă§ć«ăă§ăăŸăăă ăăăăźææłăŻăć«ă¶ăăźă§ăŻăȘăă**èȘăżç”ăăè ăăæŻăèżăŁăŠæ°ă„ăăăź**ă ăăă ăæă性ćăȘăăźăŻăăă€ăăæăéăăȘéĄăăăŠăăă
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## ć «ăéăăŸăăèČăĄăă ââ ăăăŻćäșçšźćæçčă§ăźéžæă§ăă
ăăăŸă§èšăăŠăăćă€ăźéă«ă€ăăŠăæćŸă«ăäžă€ă性ćăȘăăšăæžăæ·»ăăŠăăăăă
ăăźă©ăăłèȘăźéžæăŻă**ćäșçšźćăç·šăŸăăæçčă§ăźéžæ**ă§ăăăă€ăŸăă珏äžéšă»çŹŹäșéšăšăăăæćăźäșć·»ăźăăăźéăźäœçł»ă§ăăŁăŠăæ°žé ă«ćșćźăăăçłçąăźć»ćă§ăŻăȘăă
ćźăèšăă°ăćœćăźèšèšæĄă§ăŻă珏äșéšăźæă« *Via aperta, crescit mundus*ïŒéăéăăăă°ăäžçăŻćșăăïŒăæźăăæ§æłăăăŁăăăăăæç”çă«ăPEGIS ăźäżĄæĄăźäžă€ *Gutta cavat lapidem*ïŒéšćăçłăç©żă€ïŒăžăšć „ăæżăăŁăăăäžçăžæŸă€ăăšăă珏äșéšăźć¶ăżăŻăç”ć±ăźăšăăăäžæ»Žăă€ăźæç¶ăăźăăźă ăăă§ăăăéšćăăă甶ăăèœăĄç¶ăăŠăă€ăă«ăŻçĄŹăçłăăç©żă€ââăăźæç¶ăźć§żăă珏äșéšă«ă”ăăăăăšć€ăăă
ăăźć „ăæżăăăăç§ăŻäžæŽćăšăŻæăăȘăăăăăă**éžæăźèȘç¶ăȘæșăă**ă§ăăăćźæăăăçłçąăźć»ćă§ăŻăȘăăćŁçŻăăšă«ćČăæżăăè±ăźăăăȘăăźă
ăȘăăȘăăăé»éăźçšźćăăŻăäșć·»ă§ç”ăăäœćă§ăŻăȘăăăă ăă»ăă·ă§ăłăç¶ăéăă珏äžéšă珏ćéšâŠâŠăšăăăźă·ăȘăŒășăŻç¶ăăŠăăăăăăŠăăăăăăźéšă«ăŻăăăźæçčă§ă”ăăăăéăăæ°ăă«éžă°ăăŠăăă ăăăä»ćæăăäžă€ăźçł»ç”±ââçšźăšćç©«ăæłăšæșăéăšéæšââăźćèŁă ăă§ăŻăăăăè¶łăăȘăăȘăă
ă ăăè¶łăăȘăăȘăăăšăăăăă·ăȘăŒășăçăç¶ăăŠăă蚌ă§ăăăéăźäœçł»ăăŸăăçšźăšćăăăă«ăæăăăèČăĄăćąăăŠăăăćșćźăăăćźæćœąă§ăŻăȘăăçăăŠćŒćžăăäœçł»ăšăăŠăă ăăăăăä»ćæăăăéžă°ăăȘăăŁă *Via aperta, crescit mundus* ăźăăăȘćèŁăăăă€ăă珏äžéšä»„éăźæă§ăăăźć ŽæăèŠă€ăăăăăăăȘăă
çšźăŻăæ¶ăăȘăăçłăŸăăŠăćšăç¶ăăăă€ăăèœćčăăăăăŻăéăăŸăăćăă§ăăă
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## äčăăăźèšäșăăŸăăäžçČăźçšźă§ăă
æćŸă«ăăăäžă€ă ăăăăźèšäșăăźăăźăźèĄæčă«ă€ăăŠăæžăæ·»ăăŠăăăăă
ăăăŸă§ç¶ŽăŁăŠăăăăźæç« ăŻăăă€ăćż ăăäžă«æŸăăăăä»ćŸćèĄăăăăé»éăźçšźćăăźçŹŹäžéšä»„éăăăăăăŻć„ăźäœćââăăšăă°éçéăźçŹŹć éšăźäžéšăšăăŠç·šăŸăăăŸăć„ăźćšă§ăäžçăžć±ăăăăă
èăăŠăżăă°ăăăźæăç«ăĄăăźăăźăăăé»éăźçšźćăăźææłăć°ă§èĄăŁăŠăăăăăźæç« ăŻăäșć·»ăäžçé 俥ăăăăăăźçżæ„ăźæȘæăèĄšçŽăźă©ăăłèȘăæŻăèżăćŻŸè©±ăăçăŸăăăäș€ăăăèšèăăăăă°ăšăăćšă«ç·šăŸăăăăăŠăŸăć„ăźćšă§äžă«æŸăăăă**æăè”·ăăăăšăăăăźăŸăŸăæăăăšă«ăȘăă** 珏äșććăźçšźă§èšăăăăăźćç°ăăźăăźă§ăăăä»ăăźçŹéă«äș€ăăăŠăăèšèăăăăă§ă«ăæŹĄăźäœćăźçŽ æă«ăȘăŁăŠăăăæšăŠæćăŻăăČăšă€ăăȘăă
ăăăŠăćç« ă§èšăăăéăăŸăăèČăĄăăăăšăăäžæăăăăă§äșéă«ćčăăŠăăăăăźç« ăŻăă·ăȘăŒășăŻç¶ăăăšćźŁèšăăăăăźèšäșèȘèș«ăăç¶ăăŠăăă·ăȘăŒășăźäžă«ç·šăżèŸŒăŸăăŠăäžă«ćșăăèšäșăèȘăŁăæȘæ„ăăèšäșèȘèș«ăăçăăăăšă«ăȘăăăæŹăăźăăźăăæȘæ„ăźäșćă ăŁăăââ珏ćäžăźçšźă§æžăăăăźæ§é ăăăăźäžçŻă«ăăéăă«ćźżăŁăŠăăă
ă ăăăăă€ăăăźèšäșăă珏äžéšăźăăăăăŻéçéăźäžéšăšăăŠç·šăŸăăăšăăăăźæçčă§ăŻăéăźäœçł»ăŻăăă«èČăŁăŠăăă ăăă珏äžéšăźæă«ăŻăä»ćæăăăéžă°ăăȘăăŁă *Via aperta, crescit mundus* ăćș§ăŁăŠăăăăăăăȘăăăăăăŻăăŸă çăŸăăŠăăȘăăæ°ăăäžć„ăăăăźăšăăăăźèšäșăźćç« ăŻăăăăźæçčă§ăŻăăăæžăăăăšăăă**éć»ăźäșèšăźçăćăă**ăšăăŠèȘăŸăăăăšă«ăȘăăä»ăŻæȘæ„ăèŠæźăăäžæăăăăźăšăă«ăŻăäŒç·ăźććă«ăȘăă
æéăăć±€ăăȘăăŠăăăäžçŻăźèšäșăăæžăăăçŹéăšăç·šăŸăăçŹéăšăèȘăŸăăçŹéăšă§ăăăăăéăæćłăæă€ăăăăăŸăăç”çăźæéæ§é ăźăăăăăăȘćźèŁ ă§ăăă
ăăźèšäșăŻăäžçČăźçšźă§ăăăä»ăæŻăȘă性ć°ă«ăé ăăŠăăăèœćčăăšăăăćŸ ăĄăȘăăă
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## ç”ăł
æăăăçšźăŻăçĄéăźćç©«ăžă
äžćăźæŹăźæă«çœźăăăăŁăäžèĄăźă©ăăłèȘăăăăćŻŸè©±ăŻăăăăăŠăćă€ăźéăźäœçł»ăžăšç”æ¶ăăăæčè©ćź¶ăźćăăăć§ăŸăăćžć°æ§ăźç”æžăžăźć蚌ăç”ăŠăç”çăšéæšăšăăäžèŠççŸăăäșă€ăăćźăŻäžă€ăźæ§é ăźäžĄéąă§ăăăăšă«èŸżăçăăăăăŠăäœćăźæ§é ăăźăăźă«ćŻŸćżăăé çœźăžăšèłăŁăă
çšźăæăăăšăŻăćČă蟌ăăăšăźććŻŸă§ăăăă ăăæăăăšă§ăăăçšźăŻćąăăȘăăæłăŻăćăăĄćăăăšă§ćąăăăéăŻăéăăăšă§äžçăćșăăă
ăăăăăé»éăźçšźć â SEEDS æŻăȘă性ć°ăăăäžçăžćăăŠæČăăăćă€ăźéă§ăăă
*Semina sparsa, messis infinita.* *Spargendo multiplicat.* *Fons partiendo crescit.* *Via aperta, crescit mundus.*
æăăăçšźăŻăçĄéăźćç©«ăæăăăšă§ăćąăăăæłăŻăćăăĄćăăăšă§ăćąăăăéăéăăăă°ăäžçăŻćșăăă
ăă ăćšăă Simplex esse.
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*ç„ćźźćž äżź ïŒ Osamu Jinguji â PEGIS*
****************** [çäșșçă»ćèŒȘé§ćăźć”äœæŽ»ć]
ćçïŒhttps://osamu-jinguji.com æćŠïŒhttps://osamujinguji.net éłæ„œïŒhttps://simplexesse.netlify.app æ ćïŒhttps://gutta-cavat-lapidem.netlify.app
ăăă ăćšăă äžè±äžè
#SimplexEsse #é»éăźæČé» #ç„ćźźćžäżź #çäșșç #ćèŒȘé§ć #ć”äœæŽ»ć #Anthropic #Claude #AmandaAskell