Category Archives: Art

On Art and Animals, or, Seeing the Real Thing

I have a confession to make. When I saw Caravaggio’s The Calling of Saint Matthew last year in Italy, towering over me in all it’s massive chiaroscuro glory, I felt little beyond a twinge of “Ooh, cool! It’s so big in real life!” I never admitted that to my classmates. Artists always declare that art MUST be seen in real

On the threshold between life and death

I’ve never been a fan of video art. Maybe it’s because my attention span jumps like a hyper kangaroo or maybe I just don’t know how to appreciate it. (It referring to the video art, not the hyper kangaroo.) Enter Bill Viola’s Ocean Without A Shore. (Look it up. But only after reading this.) My entire time in the

Days 26 – 28, in journal pages

Click for mildly larger images… A house in the Lake Tekapo neighborhood was selling massive pinecones as big as my head (or so it seemed). They were quite hefty and almost as prickly as a durian. Ouch. A hardcore kayaker we met in Tailor-made-Tekapo Backpackers bought one for his mate who laughed at him and refused to take

On the quandary of color

The shores of Lake Tekapo Latitude: 44″ 00′ 06.95 S Longitude: 170″ 28′ 49.25 E Blue is the color of this lake. That’s a lie. It’s green. Greenish-blue. Um. Teal? Sky is the colour of this lake. A greener version of the sky. This colour’s lightness belongs in the sky, not held down on earth, trapped in this lake. But if

Bone Carving, In Pictures

My initial design in my journal copied over to the bone. It’s a Fern! It only seems appropriate since my name is Fern and I’m in New Zealand where ferns are everywhere: in nature, in culture, in history, in logos… Practice drilling. Which I turned into a semi-smiley face! Cutting out the design with the drill in the background.

On art and traveling

I didn’t realize how starved my inner art muse was until I walked into the San Diego Museum of Art today. (Resident’s Free Tuesdays! Whoot!) It’s just that feeling when you look at an artwork and get flooded with excitement. (Look! Another place where Fern is like a 6 year old in a candy store!) Not to mention awe

On rejection.

How can I live? Oh the pain of a breaking heart slowly being ripped to pieces, excruciatingly torn, bit by bit like bloody string cheese… Kidding. Really. The title just sounded so melodramatic I couldn’t help it. This is more about “rejection.” As in, dang it, I didn’t sell a dang thing in the comic con art show! And even with