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Ferstofus
White noise is good

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Ferstofus's News

Posted by Ferstofus - 4 days ago


Hey! I like to write critiques and I took upon me to write one for every art nominee of the last month. They're all below, in reverse win order, I hope you enjoy it!



The darkish colors and Clarise's nonchalant pose with blasé expression all bolster each other for an effect of emotional distance and mystery, the subtle animation also helping with it. The stark shadows and the well-defined forms of the giant screws, the ears and the gun/contraption all contribute to convey intensity and power. Overall an exhilarating piece teeming with intense emotions.


~



The dark motifs in the hair and clothing call attention, however I find the shapes of the artwork meaningful, specifically in how their relative straightness and edginess accompany Layla's modest demeanor for an effect of "scarcity of expression" from her; the clothing's translucent fabric also contributing. Some of the shapes like the points of her ponytail and the demon-like figure on her hair veer toward the dramatic, however I don't think they detract too much from her overall style. In any case, this is a pleasant work full of personality.


~



A great appeal here comes from the fantasy of meeting Dolly Dimpley and the "Haha, You Clowns" folks in the same situation, which is produced harmoniously by everyone's attitudes and dialogue. The contrast between Dolly's aesthetic (including intense effects of light and smooth lines) and the "Haha, You Clowns" folks' one (vast monocolored visual areas, rugged textures) also add to the fantasy, visually. Overall a fun piece, even if pretty simple.


~



Some obvious value can be found in the majestic forms and represented vast space of the vista. However, I'd like to call attention to the falling snowflakes, which are subtle but contribute a lot to the style of the piece in their conveyance of an alien ambient (matching the astronaut), serenity (matching the stable/peaceful nature) and whimsical (matching the castle atop the mountain). Overall a very beautiful piece, I liked it.


~



The peaceful activity and expression of Orla and the style devoid of hard, well-defined lines produce an initial effect of serenity. However, I'd argue the main punch comes from Orla's worm that jarringly exits her left ear (as is known), subverting the peacefulness. However-ever, the relaxed attitude of the worm with its smooth, unstressed forms and pose and activity subvert that subvertion, creating an effect of unexpected normality (though expected for Orla's fans). This is humor. Anyway, yeah, a fun piece.


~



The veeeeery smooth forms and reflective surfaces provide an initial satisfying effect. However, I'd argue that much of Leena's essence is lost with so much regular clarity and so little slimy "mess" (only two subtle splashes present near her head). Indeed, in the original "Leena Shmovin'", expressive traces of slime are gushed with each movement. I'd argue that the style of the sculpture objectifies and minimizes her personality. Still, at the least provides some satisfying visual appeal, as I've said.


~



The style full of effects of light and of light colors calls attention. However, again I'll call attention to a subtle effect in the piece: how smooth the shapes and lines are; including on the smiles of Charlie and Pim (unsurprisingly). The smoothness creates an effect of comfort and friendliness that supports the clarity of the light and light colors and prevent them from being cold and sterile. All in all a lightheartedly satisfying piece.


~



The sparkles of light and the detailed textures and shadows provide some easily-seen value for this piece. However, the shredded cloth holds a subtle importance. The edged and torn shapes naturally match with the aggression and danger of the skull, but also its lengthy, embracing continuity creates an imposing effect and aura that intensifies the power of the skull's aggression. Very scary. Very good piece.


~



The well-rendered forms, the dramatic use of lights and shadows, the view-angle and the composition all create an initial effect of intensity and weight. And upon further inspection, even the use of pixel art is contributing: the contrasting directions of the straight angles of the pixels match with the dramatic contrast and opposition ubiquitous in the whole combative theme of the piece. A very good piece.


~



@BridgeofFaust always chooses his colors well (or maybe a filter over them). In any case, the expressive curves and elongations of the shapes are probably the most defining quality of this piece, they are giving character to the characters as well as clarity and contrast when nearing perpendicularity. The author-typical brownish/beige-ish colors and granulated light/shadows/textures effects are there as well. Not bad but nothing sublime and out of the ordinary for him.


~



The well-defined shapes and clear colors typical of the anime style are here. However, I'd like to laud this piece for a more liberal use of shadows and more vaguely delimited ones than anime usually... coerces the artist to use, I'd say. Yeah, this piece has more personality. Good job.


~



The style of clearly-rendered forms, clear colors and vast use of light has some appeal, but the sheer volume of visual information is obviously the heavy-hitter of this piece. The connection between that and the volume of Sonic's history is what makes it meaningful instead of chaotic (though I did not fact-check all of the references and I'm taking a leap of faith for the author here). Baring inaccuracies, is a good piece.


~



The realism and simplicity of style strikes easily and immediately. However, as the author orchestrated with title and comment, the punch comes from the implications of baby Gromit near an open fridge. The center position of the fridge, the light inside it and the variety of colors and shapes of the foods help bring focus to the open door that invites inference/imagination of what's to happen (alongside Gromit's proximity). A good piece.


~



The textures and light/shadows constitute some preliminary appeal, however the choice of colors and the effects of faded paint is what gives this piece its overarching style and the bulk of its personality. The simulacrum of realism from the light/shadows/textures are in fact supporting the metarealism that the faded paint and paint-like color tones suggest and conduct. It's about a historical/chronological appeal, I guess.


~



Well look at that arm. You see it too, right? Extremely elongated forms coupled with a concentration of volume behind it for contrast (concentrated with help from rotund shapes). Needless to say, the thing is so freaking dramatic and dynamic it might just extrude out of the piece! And that's the definition of style (probably). Anyway, yeah, pretty exhilarating piece, oh and the extremely irregular lines are matching with the extremely irregular forms/style.


~



The warm colors already feel pleasant, but such effect is following the lead of extremely curvy and smoothly irregular lines. Such lines are casual and consistent (in their inconsistency), producing a homely effect of comfort tied to safety. And of course, it all adds up to the girl unflatteringly eating ramen but thus in such way endearing. Very good.


~



It's FNF! Fanboying aside, this is rich in what critics would call "formal qualities". There's an obvious pseudosymmetry between the left and right parts, in the composition, the sizes of characters and even some in their relations (regarding FNF lore). Besides that, most shapes have well-defined limits and there's a distinct lack of color gradients or blurry/messy visual transitions. If this focused on verisimilitude and had the golden mean somewhere, it would be a hit in ancient greece. Anyway, it is nice and satisfying, even if slightly dissonant from FNF a bit more irregular style (in the lines, for example).


~



Look at that forms rendering. Just look at it. It's like we're being shown the next dimension right there, in art. You can feel the volume, and the volume can feel you too. The blacks and reds contrasts are helping with clarity too, obviously. But the 3D forms are lifting the world, right here. Wow. Well ok. The stark tint of red was also masterfully chosen for the intensity of the brutal scene. And the clear 2D shapes are also doing their part to magnify the brutality. Very, very very good art.


~



I'm just gonna say it. Why is the hand/gun so different from the body? It's not even for contrast, they're just tied together nonchalantly, there's no surrounding effect, no deeper treatment. It's like the gun is just there to shock/confuse/distract from the actual style of the body's 2D shapes, which are notable for their (stylishly) clumsy irregularity. But the gun is just a weirdly placed lump of 3D rendering and shine from the gun barrel. I'd recommend dividing this piece into two with different styles, or harmonizing one style into the other, naturally (if so, evidently I favor the style of the body).


~



Well this one is easy. You see the textures too, right? The wyrm's scales reflecting light, the details on the knight's armor, cloth and helmet? The shredded shapes of the cape match with that detailed style too, and the tiny embers don't hurt. The shades of red and use of light/shadows create a small dramatic effect but I still see the detailed textures as the main strength. And the edgy shapes also don't hurt (like the teeth's, the spikes', the horns'). Overall a good piece.


~


Well, that's it, I hope you enjoyed my critiques. And for my personal favorite I choose: "Spider-Man" by BracedYeti. That arm, man.


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3

Posted by Ferstofus - 6 days ago


The levied magnitude

Of those imposing

Not presumptuous

But yes, presumptuous

In manner way

But oh, don't you dare

Complain about a simple magnitude

Others take it much more kindly


Oh!


Refusal will imply a proper beating

Inside a proper punching crystal blender

Whose axis spin and arms will touch you tender

But if you have objections to abuse(!)

Perchance another ought to be of use

Until you can believe

The shadows I can see

Still clawing on the walls

Still wailing on the halls


Ack!


We surely have lost track on track

About the things before and where we're at

Stop moving!


Oh


If I could see before

A child sprout no more

That in this happenstance

In spite of all our dance


Unsoothing

Unsoothing!

UNSOOTHING!


1

Posted by Ferstofus - 9 days ago


1


Gangrenously I seep into tonight

A feather falling, screams without a plight

I see you watching without confidence

Another foolish lack of any prudence?


Oh

But alas


If I could see today in manner loosely

Of all the things I’ve said and so minutely

I verily could fill a many dam

More than could man or woman understand

But alas!


It’s all a many frigid waterfall

Cascading without any sound or call

And if the souls were lost without a trace


Disgrace!


Disgrace I tell you, for all the things undone!

Could we lay bare our crowns and leave it prone?

Instead of planting hard spikes in our beds

Have demons circling dancing on our heads


But no!


It cannot be like that!

The lowest situation given yet!


I see the truthful even if obtuse

Inside the hearts of all of us a muse


Listen to it!

Listen to it!


2


And when the dogs bark sharply under moon

I see it coming slowly surely soon

In veil white tender, never do surrender

Except unless before the final song

The bells are ringing loud but not for long

Reverberating resonating cadence

Robust and just a marching stalking presence

Coalescence!

Iridescence!


The many crabs are storming on the beach

A dream in claws so tightly one of each

To squeeze the drops and crush it, leave them dry

As swagger them, articulated, wry

Of all dilapidation, this the lastest

An execution happened at the latest


And done for us


The beach but nothing but the old skyscrapers

The sand is dust of light and suffered actors

Forsaken now and trodden by contractors

Can’t you see the gleam of the coin?


Ha ha ha ha ha ha!


Ha ha ha ha ha ha!


Ha ha ha ha ha ha!


Ha ha ha ha ha ha!


Begone about


Ha ha ha ha ha ha!


I can make do without


Ha ha ha ha ha ha!


Your sorry salty face


Ha ha ha ha ha ha!


I never knew disgrace


3


Verily

I see tonight

Verily

A wasted might

Verily

A hidden ace

Verily

Just beneath your face

To mock and jest you til there is no more

A simple yet solution there to snore

In quiet relaxation pleasant cave


But do not dare don’t you do dare enslave!


For there are thousands, thousands! there before

You took a step and smelled the breeze and gore

Don’t you find fault when then there finds disgrace?

Another sob and smacked so hard a face?


Ha ha ha ha ha ha!


But alas


I’ve seen it all before

A muse shy wailing over their travails

A lightning thunder cracking, no avails…

No, further, after all is sad and gone…

And poisoning the air is left a tone

Who will help you now?


A dish escaping by forgotten corners

A river of the many passing hours

A tongue thus marinated in the sour

Alcohol you gulp you gulp again

In fear and dread you gulp you gulp again

The door is knocking, gulp you gulp again

But nothing, ever nothing you’ll refrain

From trying, is the sun to rise again

You’re bleeding but you gulp you gulp again

They’re bringing down the door, you gulp again

Just one more stanza, gulp you gulp again

Straightjacket now, you gulp you gulp again

But not because the ceiling bears a smear

Just for that reason truthful, reason clear: 

They took you before it was finished


4


Atop the mountain

Oh yes, is quite a mountain

But never to be seen before again

Perhaps in drunken dreams hallucinated

By wise folk in their strange greenhouse created

Yes



But I see

That snow only ever falls from above

And if to get there only needs a little shove

Why not?



Gifts are made to be given

Birds were made to sing

Snow was made to fall

That’s the truth of it all

Unbeknownst of our disgruntled

Dissatisfaction crankled

But hey, I hope you enjoy the show

Inside your white abode

A place built with no love

But if outside can fly the dove

Then the mountain was worth it

I pretty much got used to the jagged

Spite of things left unsaid

It’s easy when you have a plate

Of a demon close to sate

And in neverending tickle

A satire there to trickle


Down

Down…

Down


5


A neverending overflow on fire

Devoid of one direction, peace or ire

Who you gonna call?


Who will tuck you into bed?

Will share with you of things best left unsaid

For the ones with the wine

And I thought I was the swine!

Ah, I wish…



Though really, it is a pleasant sunset

I could eat it whole

Yum yum

Unless you want a piece?

Of this?

Of sweet and softy glory crème brûlée?

To be delivered straight down to você?

Yes, I can sing!

Lalalalalala!

And now you can sing it too

Sing to the heavens, like glue

Can’t be detached inside and you know why

It’s that old reason pleasant, smooth and sly

Love!

Love


Is that old reason

That cannot make a treason

You better hide your family

Before arrives serenity

And you are left in the mud


Oh here we go again

Gulp


6


And for all things that never left undone

Aren’t you just tired of it?

And for all things before they can become

I swear, I’m gonna do something else…


Besiege

The one

Who knocks


Besiege

Ain’t there nothing to it

Besiege

Piece of cake is, really

Besiege

Do you know the name of this song?

Besiege…

Besiege…

Besiege

Besiege


Besiege


Posted by Ferstofus - November 24th, 2025


Chagrin


If this little insignificance

Can break and smear doors like this

Why not?


Why not a trip to the ocean

Where all is dark and new

There’s none an unlubricated sinew

And litter is but scarce and few

Why not?


I’ve seen the octopuses spin

Devoid of one embarrassed chagrin

And sharing in a moment of nice

Of absolutely minutely spice

Why couldn’t be me?


Or you?


When spinning is but another command

Just watch me, I can do with my hand

And so and so raising we elevate

For all the things opportunities create


Could it be me?


Could it be you?


Who knew


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Hey, I just wanted to mention that I wrote and am selling a small book of poems like this one. If that would interest you, feel free to message me!


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1

Posted by Ferstofus - September 30th, 2025


May the red snow end


The wheat was scorched at tailwind of the winter

Defiler came with smooth mask yet still smiling

Whilst thinking at his plot of cold and somber


To loot the order violate the decency

Perniciously erect with every hour

Bars of a prison, false corral of infamy


Next were two poisons forcefully injected

Disguised inside a hypnotized sheep’s clothing

A many years deceit waged and emboldened


Till reaching drastic sudden start of climax

Vex witnesses, to terrify beholders

Was way of the construction of this apex


Paved crushingly by tank treads in the mud

Could rupture copses, stones, concrete and girders

Yet choose to tread on bones and skin and blood


Towards atrocious deeds done through no measure: 

Erasure, torture, violations, pillages

To deepen, deepen more the horror’s fissure


Behind the lines carved brutally aggressive

Possessive marks of vastest usurpations

Commanded by head scheming and derisive


To fabricate blunt nonsense to own people

Susceptible when next to iron hand

Attached to screen, computer, bank and steeple


Meanwhile his missiles fly, uncaring, target

That which is meek and every day defenseless

So that will death and ruin paint the sunset


Though in due time a sun will rise again, 

Strain of the evil weakens over moments

Of failed attempts amidst the snow and rain


Encumbered by tenacity and courage

Rage of barbaric threat can be repelled

So specially with help of west’s a mileage


In name of decades fuller with the peaceful

Acceptable approach of friendly kindness

Of actions which regretted can change new


3

Posted by Ferstofus - September 1st, 2025


Tectonic Twist


Abysmal darkness creeps along the night

Fight fruitlessly and fall in vain frustration

When presence to extinguish is the light


Resounding choruses announce the omen

Then spiral light departure of the spirit

From last abiding body’s holy abdomen


To execute inspiring existential

Essential moment to and thus demise

As death itself becomes the one perennial


Through plotted and inexorable consequences

Defenses of a coveted far ultimate

Disintegration of defenseless innocences


Accompanying fade of many stars

Protectors of what’s delicate and precious

Decaying in the dust of many wars


Just followed by the whirlwinds of the fragments

Descents to the ruination of the chaos

And utter absence of all of descendants


Until the void is callous everlasting

Unmaking vaster boundlessly the threads

And meaningless engulfing never masking


Nefarious solidified this state

Fate unrelenting, absolute intolerable

Of great salvation now forever late


Unless a seed of power lodged in rightly

Almightly answer housed in deeper bed

As purifying hand against unsightly


Deranging an abuse, erratic throes

Throws outerest, completely the demonic: 

Best action that mind any ever knows


To wrenching implement new reformation

Sanctification bluntly overdue

Towards high liveable new situation: 


A human simple pleasing paradise

Size fitting, open and no more devouring

Devoid of putrefaction or disguise


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6

Posted by Ferstofus - August 4th, 2025


A Happenstance


Tyrannical, a voice was sound at distance

Resounding high above at marble spire

Where farthest, no one voice could but inquire

About the motives for the circumstance

Of wild laughter thunderous expression

That filling chamber hollow and of echoes

The purple garbed in silk so hast’ly chose

To make her lone alcove for recollection


About occurrence recent in experience

To witness public gruesome execution

Of peasant and of which was a solution

Of problem one emergent from mere chance: 

The fact of that one peasant at wrong time

Had spotted ‘nother’s finger mutilation

As silky, purply garbed intimidation

A leak in methods of a hidden crime


Though now such snag was ashes at a stake

Arranged about with help from wealthy friends

Of purple garb which after shake of hands

Erected trial skillfully and fake

So that last embers, burning, were gone quickly

Unlike the memory of deed successful

Still bringing smile plastered at face, sinful

And flashing at the marble walls so freely


Although, outside, event one other happened

In synchrony with private foulest chortle

Amidst the charred wood of the stake and rubble

A gentle wind was serpentine and danced

Disturbing slightly scattered the materials

And rising upwards from that ruined point

An essence moving barely seem and faint

Went through the stone invading palace halls


It passed beside the paintings and the armors

Invisible, was crossing all the sentinels

Who, unsuspecting, used no horn or bells

As climbing staircase it heard noises hers

From still the entity of vile victory

Whereas the essence, knowing, was approaching

The target which it focusedly was hunting

When it transpassed a door in quiet secrecy


A turn around and purple garbs were facing

Decrepit, ghastly floating apparition

To bear airs plus a facet of perdition

Positioned in such way the exit blocking

As crimson eyes fixated on the living

To back away in anxious apprehension

For fleeting joy just gave away to tension

And thoughts and hopes of somehow be escaping


“Do you remember me?” The essence spoke

Quite unbeknownst of prior laughter’s motive

As answer came obsequious, attentive: 

“Why, oh quite, I believe I do!” Mistake

Was playing with new dangers unconcealed

Yet she could not prevent her silver tongue

And trying falsely to just play along

She prayed for death avoidance by words squealed


“I too remember you” Reverberating

Gave gravely such response the wretched figure

Before her body started reconfigure

In a velocious spiral of limbs spinning

Ethereal in aspect though astounding

In movement of unnatural phenomenon

Unnerving was and never seen, was singleton

To fall upon the silky miss, envelopping


The body whole in violent repercussion

A scream in panic, hopelessness, despair

Came bursting alongside the forceful air

From mind withholding true void of decision

She could not comprehend what was this monster

As lashes raked and opened lacerations

A visitor from foul imaginations

That circled twisted faster faster faster!


The soldiers of the building in alarm

Reacted to the auditory cue

Directing steps and lances hallways through

By their direction to safeguard from harm

Until approaching handles in the wood

The last obstruction from intentioned passage

With sweat and worry running through each visage

They widened it as swiftly as gloves could


To find an eerie emptiness and nothing

Both marchioness and trappings hers were missing

No indications found through sight or listening

Of whereabouts of servant of the king

Though every member of that wicked realm

From any street when knowing that, could tell

That surely there was one more soul in hell

From that one night mysterious and calm


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3

Posted by Ferstofus - July 28th, 2025


  Hey there! Welcome to my Tutorial for Arts Critiques! In this I will teach you how to critique and write reviews for art of visual and other mediums. Hopefully you will have a good time! 

  There are many ways to critique art, but here I want to show you two simple ones that can be used by anybody and showcase a bit of what's possible.

  These will be based on the famous method of Edmund Burke Feldman for visual arts, though adapted to make it simpler, broader and factoring notable theories from hermeneutics and aesthetics. Herme-wow, what? Haha, don't worry about it...because that's my job! Anyway let's get started!


First Method: The Experience.


  The first way to critique art that I'll show is what I'll call "the experience". What you do is approach the artwork and open yourself to it, to its experience, you allow your inner world to reach the artwork's and the artwork's to reach yours.


  A good way to do this is to ask open ended questions. What do you see or listen, sense? What do you feel? What thoughts come to mind? What does it remind you of?


  As you ask questions, new questions are likely to arise. That's ok, just keep repeating this back-and-forth interaction with the art. Eventually you should reach a clear insight and that will be what's called your interpretation, you may share any part of it in your critique.


  With that done, it's time to evaluate your experience! How good or bad was it? How intense, vivid, clear, was it? How does it compare to other artworks you've experienced? Again, mention whichever of it you want in your critique. If you already said something like that before, no problem! Repeat if you want, or don't.


   And with that, we're done! I should add that if you do this again at a different time, you might get a different insight. That's ok, some truths aren't fixed but any feedback still helps the artist! Specifically, this feedback is based on Gadamer's phenomenology alongside degrees of Croce's expression theory. And now you can sound like you know what you're doing, you're welcome!


  For this method of critique, I want to end things with an example. For such, let us critique the song "Sunlit Resort", composed by @ZaazNG and displayed here with permission from the author. You can click on the CD icon to use the player if you don't want to leave this page:



  Listening to it, I'd say this song makes me feel pleased and relaxed. I ask myself why. Maybe because of the slow rhythm, also the flute sounds remind me of a breeze and the steelpan reminds me of the beach. Are beaches relaxing? I don't know if all beaches, but I remembered one from a tropical hotel I once visited. Is that hotel related to this song? Well, the violin is smooth and with the guitar they make me feel welcome and cared for as if they were that hotel's staff. This feels like an insight, this song has a meaning of hospitality to me.

  I'd say it is a really good song, the music notes are crisp to hear and it makes me feel good, as I said before, and on par with other songs that I like. This is my critique.


  You may notice that I linked my feelings to specific things and talked about rhythm and specific instruments on this critique. This sensibility comes from practicing critiques and the knowledge comes from, well, life and stuff, books. Those are some ways you can improve your critiques.


Second Method: The Intentions.


  Well, that was only one method, let's see another one, shall we? This one I'll call "the intentions". What we'll do is investigate the author's intentions behind the artwork, and base our critique on it.


  Sometimes, the author will just tell you what those were in a comment or if asked. But if you don't believe, want or have that, what you do is gather any info present in the art and its context while also trying to empathize with the author (just avoid biases if you can).

  Now you should be able to make a guess about the intentions behind the art! That's your interpretation, mention what you want.


  With that, now we evaluate it. Were they good intentions? Did the author succeed at them? Why? And if so, what were the consequences? Once again, say what you want of that, and you've done it!


  This method is good for critiquing design too, by the way. Also propaganda, marketing, publicity and didactic art! In case you're a nerd, this uses ideas from romanticist hermeneutics with an instrumentalist value theory; now you know.


  And here, too, I'd like to end things with an example. I want to critique "the necromancer", an artwork made by @jouste and used here with author permission: 


  iu_1436578_2847417.webp


  What an emphatic piece, from how the character was placed in the picture to the contrast between earth and sky and how it all seems to converge to the center. Also, the chicken is funny.

  Considering all that, I interpret that jouste intended to exalt this character, the necromancer, while also creating an exhilarating (though not burdensome) experience. With how this thing makes me feel, I'll say he did it, this necromancer dude is cool! This is my critique.


  Now, the savvy among you might know that this isn't just any necromancer. It's actually a boss from the game Castle Crashers, this is fanart! Yeah, remember when I said to gather info from the context? That's the bare minimum... any info can matter, from any context. When you critique like this, the more you know the better. Indeed, if you check "the necromancer"'s submission page, jouste mentions he sent this art as a gift to the game's developers, in celebration of its successes (including the release of the "necromancer pack"!). Considering that would've changed my critique, for one, the "Behemoth" plaque now makes more sense. This goes to show that solid logic might still be incomplete.


Final Thoughts


  No matter how you choose to critique art, always be humble and respectful. Words can hurt and you don't know everything. Not only that, you are only critiquing because the artist took the time and effort to make the art in the first place, be thankful. When in doubt on how to phrase something, use common sense and empathy (and not just to guess a meaning!).

  Well, that's it for this tutorial, I hope you learned a thing or two for critiquing art and helping artists in their journeys. Special thanks to Zaaz and jouste for allowing me to use their art! If you liked this thing, let me know! If enough people want it, I can make an advanced tutorial for critiques, including other methods, more tips for improving, art vocabulary and historical contextualization. Anyway, bye!


EDIT August 7, 2025 - The "experience" method was originally based on Heidegger's hermeneutics; but I thought I had misrepresented it. I now adjusted it to utilize Hans-Georg Gadamer's phenomenology instead.


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11

Posted by Ferstofus - July 5th, 2025


Tears of a Portrait


In hollow vast extensive inner halls

I see, peruse, past generations portraits

Oh faces long forgotten

Of memories begotten

Of other lives and joys and fears and straits


It is an anniversary

Of coming from the nursery

My body, soul and hopelessness today

If only doctors had deemed me unwell!

And brought on me all powers from all medicines

Had made me dance the sound of all their symphonies

Perhaps fate would have not imparted sorrows


And yet I stand here bare on this occasion!

Of falling into bitter envy’s clutches

Of seeing faces and, based on mere hunches, 

To deify such long gone generations!

Without a clue of their own desperations!

I see I am a worm of smallest feelings


The exposition staff do, still, observe me

No doubt they herald last turns of the clock

When doors are closed and tightly comes a lock

I better move and shamelessly depart


From all this sick unmeasurably ogling

A jealousy invisible yet flowing

From my one visage static to another

Though portraits’ ones hide their emotions better!

I cross the gates and exiting the building…


I cannot stand to think and realize

What putrid man is walking in my shoes

I am this man whose reason for the blues

Is moral, unrelenting, a disguise

Whose mental faculties will not suffice

To change an act and humble through regret!


To take a stolen artwork masterpiece

Through plan devised by me in piece by piece

Still stashed in hidden shadows, guarded place

To take it back and show it oh I must

I must! I must! To load off clawing agony

Of inner blaring thrashings of mine soul

So finally my truest self can know

Peace!


And still, I hoard it hidden tightly, greedly

I cannot give away the power freely

To bask in all the marvels of the brush!

It is indeed today an anniversary

Of time of birth of me, though also verily

Is also date that I once took hold hurriedly

Of object of a master’s paint and guilt!

Though masters of aesthetics and ateliers

Pale when against those of regret made felt!...


And even though my mouth can say these words

My mind can think these feelings

My heart can take these reelings

What good is all of it!

What good is keen awareness

Of reason for my sadness

Of urging for my gladness

If just won’t execute

The obvious accessible necessity

To make capitulation in simplicity

My arrogant self!


I still give me the gift

Just like on fated day

To find myself a way

To hurt because of it!

My gazes at the painting

Their power and the longing

For no more be prolonging

The pain that I maintain!

Oh, oh but yes the gazes

Are optical blazes

They surely so are burning

The painting and the paint!


I need to hide it deeper

In darker a container

A coffer or a safer

I need a mausoleum!

Just any stout protection

From rigid degradation

That from my observation

My eyes will kill the art!

I must do it again

The previous attempts

Were merely some portents

That it need be done once more!


This shovel in my hands

And silence of the night

As it hangs by my side

Shall be signs thus so spelling

Events here to unfold

Amidst the mud and mold

Embracing us the cold

The masterpiece and I!


You will live underground

My square, artistic lover

The earth is tender cover

You will not die again!

From sights mine irresponsible

You know how I am loveable

There won’t be no regrettable

Corrosion of your canvas!


Loud sirens scream far, distant, yet they cannot comprehend

Emotions so imbuing from a watercolor friend

Of mystifying visuals which can a psyche rend

Torn! Torn!

This heaving, this strained heaving of the dirt to seal the tomb

Devour, earth! The veil of brown this heaving makes a womb!

And may my darling painting find its comfort from the sun!

And from the eyeball lasers that I always ever spun!


You cannot stop it, two law officers won’t be enough!

You drag me to the siren’s scream that I already knew of!

But though my feet now streak the earth

A pulling from four strong arms’ girth

I know that treasured opus shall remain protected!

From searing rays of eyes of mine that could not be corrected!

It will not burn no more!

My eyes!

My eyes!!!


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Posted by Ferstofus - July 2nd, 2025


The depth of the Fang in the Night


The glaring sun to shine on the horizon

Announcing the oncoming hand of destiny

Still held the great details veiled in secrecy

About the future threat to slickly loom

About in warrior’s there the close vicinity

She had the sweat and nerve of expectation

In standing pose, defense of all her nation

As she had axe in left hand gripping tightly


The shadows slowly grew and were encroaching

As sunset grew a fading gleaming weaker

The bushes of the valley were no better

At telling from where beast would be approaching

The armor of the fighter fastened highly

Was only limited a placed protection

Though not much for assault made with precision

Of vital points of blunt denial hardly


When suddenly a motion strong and rapid

Was figure surging such as furry lightning

From vegetation whence the creature hiding

Was executing pounce of intents sordid

To target present passive that defender

Who quick erected her shield for survival

With right hand lest her grim death would befall

The act prevented just the beast to rend her


And it recoiled mad and disappointed

The jaguar roared with its fangs bared in front

The metal-clad intruder to affront

Still bearing life quite uneliminated

She took on a new fighting stance to deal

With monster now aggressive and revealed

The sole foul company in that vast field

That would rip out her throat without a squeal


It tried attempt again at slashing vicious

In her direction searching for an opening

Though she rebuked with axe cuts done so sobering

To make some distance strategy fastidious

So they reached equilibrium of space

Between the dangers swinging and assaults

Where panic and first hopelessness sure halts

With no lives on the line, it would be grace


Yet now it was a dance of deadly movements

The animal changed tactics used then suddenly

To rather circle her intimidatingly

So stirring apprehensive sentiments

Within the fighter thinking plan in mind

To make subvert the conflict’s current state

Before an error could spell it too late

To gather victory of any kind


She took from belt at back of her a flask

And threw it forward close to focused enemy

Who jumped avoiding glass and heating energy

Of burning fire birthing self at dusk

She took some more and threw some more containers

Creating many flashing flaming areas

Encasing self in safely prison whereas

The monster could just witness crimson geysers


As it still stalked her dreadfully outside

And she took opportunity to rest

To be prepared for how to slay was best

The enemy and bring as proof the hide

But unbeknownst her underestimation

The jaguar through the flames fell unto her!

The searing was no measure to assure

Her safety from that mad determination!


The grazing teeth instilling desperation

Next to her skin, to move before her eye

Bare inches ‘tween a tearing gone awry

A deep excruciating laceration

As hulking frame o’ beast entrapped her body

Her angles were unfit for lifting that

Monstrosity of muscles stench so great

Could easily make her deceased and bloody


She only managed skimly her survival

With gauntlet holding barely beastly throat

Preventing closer reaching of that stout

Maw and the neck which meant the doom of all

Her efforts to save children and the elderly

Who like departed ones were tender prey

From jaguar feasts engorged on past a day

The feline hulk insatiable and hungry


The warrior jerked and forced with mighty force

Both her and predator of vast extents

Apart as with her deftness of both hands

She stood and got her axe with hurried grace

And in the crux of both combatants clashing

The jaguar leaping for a bite on jugular

The fighter swinging her axe in mid-air

And battle’s resolution coalescing


The woman intercepted the attack

In slashing deep in neck of girthy flesh

A misdirection of a fang-bore dash

A veering of a brunt in now night’s black

The beast was breathing hardly on the ground

In jerky motions random and spasmodic

To end the scene of lurid and pathetic

She brought down blade of weapon for an end


And thus was placid final time of menace

No more a roamer at no more outskirts

Civilization’s and no more of hurts

Of souls attending burials with grimace

A steel of drenching liquid now dislodged

A panting fighter at the edge of madness

A breath of rightly earned cathartic gladness

A jaguar sentenced for own nature killed


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