About Me

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A decidedly left-brained musician with a set of eyes that tend to lie to her. On a journey to find some insight into/love for the visual arts, one artist/exhibit/eureka-moment at a time. Likes include glitchy beats, NPR, and high heels.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Butter Face

When I was in art class in middle school, I was never the worst. I sat somewhere in the middle of the class, skill wise. My teacher evaluations often pointed out that my sense of perspective was good, but that the composition was sub-par. I distinctly remember working for hours getting the horizon line perfect, then losing interest. One of my biggest issues was drawing faces.

Professor George Eastman, who teaches my Abnormal Psychology class, mentioned that there is a specific part of the brain that is active when recognizing faces. The face isn’t just another object to our brain.

Doris Tsao, a researcher at Harvard Med explored this idea in depth:

"We don’t just perceive faces—we respond to them,” she explains. “We determine their emotional expression, store them in our memory, categorize them as friend or foe." (Scientific American)

In retrospect, it’s possible that my difficulty with faces is that I never thought of them as being any more than just that- a set of eyes, a nose, a mouth. But as humans, we’re more likely to glean a specific emotion from a face and completely disregard the characteristics of each part of the face than we are to walk away thinking “Damn, that was an epically big nose.”


This week’s self-imposed assignment: noteworthy visage depictions.

P.S. Not ignoring photography as an art form, I absolutely LOVE photos of people. But ça, c'est cheating, non?



Eleanor Hardwick
www.eleanorhardwick.com

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Friday, March 5, 2010

Look at her, with her ideas and stuff

Hi.

I am Rose. I'm beginning this blog to record the findings of what is now a conscious trip through the world of Beauty and Ugliness and WTFness that is ART.

Art as always been something completely out of my reach. As a musician and sound designer, my ears are my dearest appendages... and my eyes have been nothing but trouble: after three (effing painful) eye surgeries and six or so pairs of glasses, they are adequately functional. However, they still:

1) Cross, when a camera flash goes off.
2) Lead me to date unsuitable boys. (coughdrummerscough)
3) Cry, sometimes.

This is an attempt to make peace with my eyeballs. While I love the idea of making beautiful things, I can't help but be underwhelmed or (worse) apathetic when I look at most art. I don't get goosebumps the way I do with music.

So it starts. With the guidance of my artsy friends, of whom there are many, and the world wide interweb, and the veritable shit-ton of museums and galleries at my disposal, I go now, bravely into this unknown territory. I remain the optimist.