Welcome to the Oshman Museum of Fine Arts.
In today’s exhibition, we are honored to present the elegant yet complex work known as Digitus Artis—a study in form, memory, and manual labor.

 

The Casting Process: A Journey into the Negative Space

The creation began, as all great works do, in silence and secrecy. An alginate mold of the artist’s fingers was carefully prepared in a controlled classroom setting. Tragically, photographic documentation of this moment has been lost—a deliberate reference, perhaps, to the impermanence of process. As the artist themself noted, “As a fish climbs a tree, so does a college student do their homework prudently,” an enigmatic citation that leaves interpretation to the viewer.

Once the alginate cured, a plaster mixture—70 grams of powder to 20 grams of water—was carefully introduced into the form. Two screws were embedded in select casts, held aloft with tape in a precarious ballet of function and futility. Again, no photographs exist of this procedure, inviting the observer to sit with the suspense of the unseen.

 

Replication and Restraint

A second series of finger molds was created, this time screwless, designed with practical elegance in mind. As one cannot drill into dormitory walls—a restriction imposed by the architecture of modernity—the artist opted instead for Command™ strips, symbolizing adaptability within constraint.

Above: the digits post-extraction—raw, vulnerable, awaiting transformation.

 

Color Theory and the Failure of Trust

With the museum motif in mind, the initial intent was to gild the fingers—an homage to opulence and reverence. The chosen medium? A can of Montana Gold spray paint, selected not only for its name but for its symbolic connection to the artist’s hometown.

And yet: betrayal.

Rather than gold, the paint revealed itself as a deep purple-black, an act of chromatic treason. In response, the artist pivoted. A forest green—chosen to harmonize with the artist’s living space—became the new palette. While the paint appeared neon under certain lighting, in person, it whispers serenity.

Each digit received two coats of paint, followed by a clear protective sealant. Where the paint pooled—gravity’s quiet sabotage—the artist intervened, gently washing away the excess in a porcelain basin. Function met form; the unexpected met intention.

Of course, the workspace was meticulously restored post-creation—an unspoken but essential component of any meaningful practice.

 

Cost Analysis

Alginate – $11.99

Plaster – $7.99

Labor, 4 hours – $80.00

Total cost: $99.98

 

A modest price for immortality.