Playing with a Flowing Torus
A friend recently sent me a video that demonstrates a remarkable slinky-like object called a toroflux, designed by Jochen Valett:
It is a long ribbon of spring metal wrapped into a coil, except instead of coiling into a helix, as most springs do, this one coils through itself. It coils again and again, for the entire extent of the ribbon, where it is finally joined to the other end, creating a single loop of metal ribbon. Because the loop is passed through itself many times, the resulting shape is non-trivial in the knot-theoretic sense; it takes the form of a torus knot.
This spring behaves in an extraordinary way when manipulated. Because the spring is under tension, and is seeking the lowest energy state possible, when it is released, it prefers to open into a torus with the largest “minor radius” possible. That is, it becomes a horn torus, where the “hole” in the doughnut vanishes.
The force responsible for this then has a tendency to “grab” onto anything placed through the hole of the torus (like a stick), and if the object has enough friction, the toroflux will have good traction. The result is remarkable; the toroflux begins spinning, while simultaneously falling, creating the illusion of a silver bubble-like structure.
I was so excited by this that I had to purchase one for myself. If I had a ribbon of spring metal, I would have wanted to make my own, but unfortunately I couldn’t find anything that would suffice. Before it arrived, I made predictions about how such an object could work, and I have enjoyed playing with it. I would like to explain here how the toroflux works using an informal analogy, hopefully making it understandable.
Capturing the idea of “rolling” down
Let’s say we want to build a device that rolls down a vertical rope. When we think of rolling, the first thing that comes to mind is wheels. So we could accomplish the task by placing a number of vertical bicycle wheels radially in contact with the rope, each wheel connected to its neighbor via some framework. Here I have pictured two wheels for simplicity, but the principle could be generalized to many wheels. Provided that the device doesn’t slip off, and traction is maintained between the wheels and the rope, the assembly will fall, and the wheels will simultaneously turn as indicated by the blue arrows (relative to the falling frame).


This allows our apparatus to roll down straight. But what if we want the device to spin like the toroflux does? Well, just like when driving a car, you can guide a wheeled device in a certain direction by turning the wheels. In our case, we want the device to begin rotating. What would happen if we took these wheels and rotated the axis of each wheel some fixed angle about the radial direction? The adjacent diagram illustrates this with a top-down view of the wheel system, with the rope in cross-section. As the wheels “drive” down the rope, they have no choice but to make the whole assembly spin because of the way they are angled.
Now we have something that is much more similar to the toroflux. It not only rolls down a rope, but the whole system also rotates about the axis of the rope as it does so. The ratio of the downward velocity and the rotational velocity is determined by the angle of the wheels.
Doing away with the chassis
We now have a number of wheels held together by the support struts and also held tight to the rope with spring mechanisms to maintain traction. The support chassis is necessary for a simple reason: the wheels are not connected to one another. In the topological sense, the set of wheels is comprised of more than one connected component. We can rid ourselves of the chassis if we create a single wheel that locally (relative to the rope) looks identical to the wheels. That is, the rope should be unable to tell the difference between many tires touching it and a single, serpentine tire touching it and curving inward toward the rope in exactly the same way that the individual wheels did.

Here is a way to accomplish this. If you follow the curvature of a wheel, instead of curving around in a circle and reconnecting directly with itself, it must arc over toward the next wheel and join with it! This wheel will also do the same thing with its other neighbor, and this continues all the way around until we have only one spiraling wheel, all one piece. This does not interfere with the rolling of the wheels, because all the wheels spin in the same direction, so the “excess” tread from one wheel goes into the tread that is moving away on the neighboring wheel. Thus the physical result is essentially the same. (This forms a torus “knot” classified by {1,n}, signifying that in a single rotation around the rope, the coils spiral n times.) The above animation shows how the separate wheels are deformed and connected to each other to form a single coil-tire.
This is all fine and good, but we still require a great amount of tension in the spring to keep it pressed firmly enough on the rope to prevent slipping. As the device rotates faster, centrifugal force will pull the spring-tire apart, and it will begin to lose traction with the rope. We will see in the next section how to prevent this from happening.
Using centrifugal force to our advantage
Our device runs into some trouble when it starts spinning really fast. As the device spins, the coils pull apart and lose traction with the rope. We can put the coils under more tension, but there are practical limitations. There is a much more clever way to solve this problem, and it involves using centrifugal force against itself to achieve what we are looking for.

Instead of running the coil in the way I described earlier (as a {1,n} torus), we can loop the torus through itself, so that each coil wraps around the other side of the rope, so when the toroflux begins spinning rapidly, centrifugal force only pulls it tighter around the rope. In this way, we form a {n-1,n} knot, which is a true knot, so that upon orbiting the rope n-1 times, the coil winds n times. This knot resembles but is not actually equivalent to a single torus of circles of the Hopf fibration.
Hopefully this explanation makes clear how the toroflux works, and also helps illuminate the ingenuity and utter elegance of this invention. I also made a video to demonstrate it:

That red connector between the bottles creates a handle for easy transportation. Most people dispose of these connectors and consume the Red Juice with the help of friends. Cody manages to drink this quantity of juice in a few days and sets the connectors aside, initially out of laziness but soon building a collection of them.





























This surface has similar geometry to an egg, but is lackluster. At this point, it still has meshlines and a generic default color assigned by Mathematica. The eggs need some more spice. I decided I wanted to color them like Easter Eggs, but the constraint I imposed on myself was that the colored patterns would need to be created directly from mathematical functions inside of Mathematica. Each function would go from the surface of the surface of the sphere into the real numbers, and therefore could be thought of as a simple function of two variables, u and v. The output of this function could then be mapped to a color to represent the desired color at that point.
Thankfully, there were no problems matching up edges on the rectangle [0,2π]x[0,π], because the Spherical Harmonics are made especially for spheres. At this point, I couldn’t help but try changing parameters on the eggs to obtain different patterns. For instance, one such parameter represents the number of blobs of color going from the top to bottom of the egg. The other parameter represents how many blobs go all the way around the equator. By changing these parameters, you can obtain very different looking eggs, especially when you make one parameter much larger than the other to create “slits” of color. You can see an orange version of these Spherical Harmonics in the bottom picture in the orange-colored egg on the very left of the image. You can see that I cranked up the number of blobs of color I required to fit from north pole to south pole in that one.
The first think I noticed about the egg is the spirals, but if you look directly down on this model from the north or the south pole, you will see a four-petaled flower. What I find interesting about this activity is that it requires not only artistic creativity, but also a familiarity with the behavior of mathematical functions so that one can define an egg that resembles the image one had in ones mind before beginning the project. However, unlike this visually attractive egg, the mathematical coloring equation is no where near as elegant. Ignoring various rescaling done to account for the desired input range to specify the colors, the mathematical equation that I used to generate this pattern was:
