The thread: The round trip — page 2
The shadow of a ball is a conic
A cone cut by a plane is a conic section — which is the definition of the phrase, not an analogy — and the shadow of a ball is exactly that cut. So the shadow closes or runs to the horizon depending on where the lamp is, and the condition is not what anyone guesses: it is that the lamp is above the top of the ball. The ball's distance appears nowhere in it.
Light and mirrorsThe lamp, out of the picture
Two posts and their shadows put the light's position in a photograph, exactly, with nothing given but the drawn lines and the camera's own horizon. Two posts. One gives a residual of zero and an answer that is a whole one-parameter family — the sharpest counter-example there is to the idea that a small residual means a right answer, met again in a new field.
Measuring from one pictureThe wall under the paint
An anamorph's design is a set of rays from a known eye, fixed before any paint is applied — so the marks are a calibration target whose rays are known exactly and whose shape is not. One ordinary photograph supplies the second ray for each mark and the wall comes back at the arithmetic floor, on a dished floor, a ridged one, and a floor with a step in it. What it says between the marks is nothing, by the sagitta.
The rectangle behind the lensThe centre has an area
Every theorem of perspective follows from a projection through a point, and no instrument has one. Give the pupil a radius and each world point images as a disc — whose centre is the pinhole's mark to 5.7 × 10⁻¹⁴ millimetres, at every aperture, every distance and every field angle. The geometry survives exactly; only the sharpness is spent.
The rectangle behind the lensA box leaves a line of cameras
Let pixels be any width and one picture of a box has three equations for four unknowns, so it does not read one wrong camera but a whole line of right ones. The principal point sweeps across the frame as the width is assumed. Every member keeps all three right angles exactly, and the line has ends, because a squeezed triangle can stop being acute.
Light and mirrorsA shadow can be un-cast
A shadow looks like a lossy record — a flattened smear with the shape half thrown away. It is nothing of the kind. The map from the occluder's plane to the floor is a plane projectivity, so it has an inverse, and the outline comes back out of its own shadow exactly. What breaks it is not the light and not the shape: it is the floor not being flat.
What a machine computesA tile is an off-centre frustum
Rendering a picture in tiles is exact, and the way to do it is one line of arithmetic: a tile's sides are the whole frustum's sides read at the tile's own pixel bounds. Aiming the camera at each tile instead is defensible at every step and is a different picture, out by about a tenth of a tile whatever the tile size.
Measuring from one pictureThe curvature a shadow reports
A flat floor makes a shadow a homology, so four marks predict the rest exactly and a curved floor mispredicts them by millimetres. Turn that round and the mispredict is a measurement of the floor. It recovers a dished floor's own curvature to a per cent — and returns 0.482 for a floor made of two planes, whose curvature is zero everywhere, with a residual of ten microns.
The real instrumentThe hole a scene actually sees
The stop is not the centre of projection. Model a 50 mm lens with its stop 18 mm behind the glass and the chief rays from every object distance cross the axis at one point 28.1 mm on the other side of the lens — 10.1 mm from the stop and 1.56 times its size — to 3.6 × 10⁻¹⁵ mm. That point is the entrance pupil, and it is where a picture is a projection from.
The eye that movesA landscape that changes its rule halfway up
A reader handed only the marks of a three-station landscape recovers each band's own camera height without being told any of them — 1.60 m, 4.00 m, 11.00 m, to 3.6e-15 m. What that same reader cannot recover across a join is a common ground: the next band's own marks read as a ground point 2.40 m away from the true one at the first seam, 7.00 m at the second.
Many pictures at onceAn uncertainty is quoted from something
One adjustment, one set of marks read to a pixel, and its uncertainty written four ways. Held at the first camera, the last camera is 105 mm from certain; held at nothing, every camera is within 4 to 6 mm. A ratio of two distances carries 0.1465 per cent in all four, to two parts in a billion.
The rectangle behind the lensA square closes the line of cameras
A box's three right angles leave a line of cameras, and a square on one of its faces closes it, because the square's diagonals are a fourth right angle the box did not already contain. From exact marks the whole camera comes back. From ordinary marks a 1.33 squeeze is read to two per cent, with a small bias, and a rectangle taken for a square reads as a squeeze of almost its own ratio.
Many pictures at onceA longer lens buys parallax and not the direction
Walk a pair away from a scene and the parallax a homography cannot absorb falls. Lengthen the lens to keep the scene filling the frame, and one power of that loss comes back, exactly. The recovered direction between the cameras does not come back with it. At the same parallax in pixels, a long lens is three times further from the answer, because what fixes a direction is the angle the marks span and no lens can widen that.
The other systemsThe drawing does not say which corner is nearer
The Necker cube is filed under optical illusion, as though the flipping were something the eye does. It is not: a parallel drawing of a cube is a drawing of exactly two cubes, mirror images of each other, and they project to the identical picture to the last bit. Perspective rules the second one out at a rate exactly inverse in the eye's distance, and never entirely.
Where to standA floor anamorph is three numbers
An anamorph is described everywhere as a picture stretched until only one viewpoint can read it, which says what it looks like and nothing about what it is. Cast one onto a floor and fit a map to the marks, and the map turns out to be a planar homology — a line of fixed points, one point off it, and a single ratio. Those three numbers are not a description of the eye. They are the eye.
Constructing a viewStraightening does not move the eye
Correct a photograph's converging verticals and what comes out agrees with a level camera at the same point — one the correction was never shown — to 3e-13 px, with the verticals parallel to 0e+0°. The cross-ratio of four points along a ground line reads 1.3333 before and after, so the corrected picture measures exactly what the original measured, from exactly where the original was taken and nowhere else.
Measuring from one pictureOne picture of a ball
The outline of a ball in a photograph fixes the cone of rays that graze it, so the cone's axis is the direction of the ball's centre and its half-angle is the arcsine of radius over distance — both exactly, and neither of them separately. A ball a hundred and thirty-seven times larger, a hundred and thirty-seven times further away, draws the identical conic. And the drawn ellipse's own centre is not the image of the ball's.
The second projectionThe screen that names the seat
A flat screen shows a homography of the intended picture from every seat in the room, and an observer's own framing is free to be a homography too — so a flat screen's picture is consistent with every seat there is. A curved one is not, and the seat comes back out of the picture in all three directions, in units of the screen's own radius.
What each system gave upFour surfaces, and no one camera that draws them
Read under one assumed camera, the floor, footstool, table and book of a constructed divergent picture imply tilts of 36.7°, 65.1°, 54.2° and 78.2°, where one camera photographing four parallel surfaces gives each of them 35.0°. But the spread between the tilts is 46.8° under a 260 px lens and 6.7° under a 5,000 px one, so it measures the lens as much as the picture. The measure that owes nothing to a lens is on the page: the nearest drawing one camera could make moves the far corners by 17.6 px.
Many pictures at onceThe eighth held number bends the scene
Four surveyed points, each 10 mm out in a different direction. Hold seven of their coordinates during an adjustment and the courtyard's shape moves by a trillionth of a millimetre; hold eight and it moves by 0.59 mm, because seven numbers choose a frame and the eighth makes a claim the pictures disagree with.
Light and mirrorsA lamp lights less than half a ball
Everyone knows a sphere is half lit. It is half lit by a source at infinity and by nothing else: a lamp two radii away lights a quarter of it, and the boundary it draws is a circle offset toward the light rather than a great circle. The offset is R²/D, which means a photograph of a lit ball carries the distance to whatever lit it.
Measuring from one pictureTwo pictures of a ball
Two outlines give two tangent cones, and where their axes cross is the ball's centre — with the radius following from either half-angle. There is no correspondence problem, because a ball's outline in one picture and its outline in another are guaranteed to be the same ball; and there is a degeneracy, which is the two eyes and the ball in a line, and the solver refuses it rather than returning something plausible.
The real instrumentA tilted sensor is not a distortion
Tilt a sensor 3° out of square with its lens and every point of the picture moves — up to 7.5 px on the frame drawn here — yet every straight line stays straight to 10⁻¹³ px and the cross-ratio survives to 10⁻¹⁶. The picture is an ordinary pinhole picture whose principal point has moved 22.30 px. A calibration that frees its principal point absorbs it exactly; one that holds the principal point and reaches for tangential distortion terms leaves 1.87 px, and used as a correction it bends straight rows by 4 px.
Many pictures at onceA narrow view keeps a second answer, inside out
Six pictures of a courtyard through a 3° field, every mark exact. Started from the scene turned inside out, the adjustment settles there — near points far, far points near — and misfits the marks by under a pixel. The misfit grows in proportion to the field and to the sweep of the cameras, and vanishes only where perspective does.