Art meets science in Mini Lisa's nanoworld

Was Leonardo Da Vinci the greatest scientist or artist of his time? Perhaps more well known for his artistic talents, his enigmatic painting of the Mona Lisa continues to puzzle generations of art enthusiasts many centuries later.

Now, thanks to a newly published study by PhD student Keith Carroll from Georgia Instiute of Technology, Da Vinci's artistic works can take a tiny place in the world of science. A very, very tiny place indeed....

The 'Mini Lisa' wins the record for the world's smallest replica of Da Vinci's famous painting. The technical terminology adds a layer of complexity that detracts from what simply is a work of art. Published in the journal Langmuir, "Fabricating nanoscale chemical gradients with thermochemical nanolithography" is a complex description of a technology that can perhaps be likened to the painting style pointillism. Whereas the latter refers to a painting created from tiny dots of individually applied paint, 'Mini Lisa's' 'paint' was applied using controlled chemical reactions to create varying shades of grey across 125 nanometer intervals.

The overall image stretches just 30 microns across---that's so small that it's probably not worth splitting hairs over. Let's just say that it's really rather small.

But perhaps in the science of art, size doesn't really matter all that much. In our new world of nanotechnology, perhaps sci-art is the genre of the future? I'm sure that Da Vinci, as an inventor and creator born before his time, would be more than a tiny bit pleased is he could see this painting.

[Image source: Georgia Tech Media Release] 

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Penguins - Spy in the Huddle

Image Source: BBC

I like a good David Attenborough doco as much as the next biologist and animal lover. But sometimes you're just not in the mood for watching nature at its harshest and bloodiest.

The BBC's 'Penguins - Spy in the Huddle' is the most captivating heart-warming nature documentary that I have ever seen. We follow the early lives of Rockhopper, Humboldt, and Emperor penguin, as they grow up in this dangerous world.

Luckily, we have an insider's view. 'Egg cam', 'chick cam', and 'rock cam' show us the Penguins' world through hidden cameras. The technical expertise is inspiring, with imitation penguin robots able to right themselves when toppled over by over-zealous feathered admirers. 'Rockhopper cam' in particular resembles something out of one of the 'Saw' videos, so who can blame the penguins for questioning the intrusion.

This bird's eye view of the birds adds an element of humour. We see childless Rockhoppers attempting to nuture egg cam, and single birds flirting with the imposters. Here we see the first ever footage of a penguin colony filmed from a camera hidden inside a fake egg, flown through the sky by a bird.

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Olympic musings

There's something about the Olympics that stirs a sense of patriotism inside me. Normally ambivalent, bordering on irritated, by the amount of sport taking up the TV space, advertising space, and conversational space, during the Olympics I'm the biggest sports fan around.

Yes, there's the crowd pleasing swimming, athletics, and gymnastics. But there's also that fascination that you gain from drawing a direct comparison between women's weightlifting, men's gymnastics, and those famed Ethiopian marathon runners. The boundaries between male and female, fit and fat, are blurred into you have to ask yourself, 'Are these people really human?'

At the time of writing, I'm watching New Zealand's Valerie Adams compete in the women's shotput. Listening to the commentators speculate on her medal prospects, I don't envy the pressure placed on one woman's (admittedly large) shoulders. Soon it will become apparent whether she can carry that weight far enough to throw it into the final.

Of course you have those sports that are really just not cool, but hey, it's the Olympics, let's pretend. You know what I'm talking about... Do horses reminisce over those medals they won in the show jumping? And when's the last time you saw a handball game outside of your high school playground?

As an Australian living in New Zealand (probably the only one, it seems) I am experiencing a sense of patriotic confusion. New Zealand is ahead of Australia in the medal tally, as everyone I know has told me. "Probably I brought the good luck with me across the ditch," I reply. At least now, I have twice as many athletes to cheer on. Perhaps the only downside of watching the Olympics in New Zealand is the amount of show jumping aired during prime Olympics viewing time.

As the Olympic Games begins its second week, I begin to wonder what I'm going to do with my evenings when it ends. When I think back to everything that I've seen so far, the most admirable performance was by far that of double amputee, Oscar Pistorius. Perhaps he doesn't want our admiration. But I'm a long-term fan of the Paralympic Games, and Oscar has reminded me that when they start again in a couple of weeks, the obscure and fascinating sports really do become truly admirable.

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Fish brains

I watched David Attenborough's 'Nature's Great Events' on New Zealand's TV One last night.

There's no doubt about it. Nature documentaries make me cry. I thought this was just a childhood weakness left long in the past. phht.. bears killing fish, whales drowning.. grow up, this stuff happens every day. I eat fish for dinner.

But no. Call me an emotional female, but scenes of dying fish can make me weep.

This particular episode told the story of 'The Great Salmon Run' -- an epic journey made by millions of Atlantic Salmon every year to reach their birth place and spawn again. (I'm unsure exactly why they need to reproduce in the exact same location as their parents. In human terms that would be mildly disgusting, and somewhat fishy...). To achieve their one first and last act of reproduction, the salmon are forced to swim upstream in shallow oxygen-deprived water, leap up waterfalls equivalent to a 4-story building in our terms, and dodge hungry bears.

The ability of this documentary to completely humanise these fish left me emotionally drained. I wondered what goes on inside their tiny fish brains as they push their aching bodies to the extremes, or face the gaping jaws of a grizzly bear. Do they feel pain and fear and exhilaration as we do? As we neared the end of the story, gentle love scenes between two dying fish on a shallow river floor before they donated their nitrogen-rich bodies to the river, evoked me to hum 'The Circle of Life" from "The Lion King" out loud.

I doubt I'm alone. I know there's something innate inside every one of our brains that makes us empathise with other beings. Perhaps this is a purely human trait, as theory of mind dictates? Clearly the production team behind David Attenborough knows how to take full advantage of our 'humanity' to draw us into the documentary.

Even so, after the hour-long documentary draw to a close, I held a greater respect for salmon than I ever have before. No longer just overly-priced pink flesh taunting me from behind the seafood counter at the supermarket. Now I'm wondering what this 'sustainable fishing' (a term I previously rejected due to fear of hippies) is all about.

What I do know is that humans (in our Western society anyway) have it made. Whilst we are capable of feeling fear and pain, most people do not experience these emotions during the simple act of reproduction. I hope that nothing much is going on inside their fish brains, for their sake.

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Rugby World Cup 2011 - Back in Black

'For the first time in 24 years' the boys in black have brought it home for New Zealand. Go the ALL BLACKS!!!

I'm unsure how I feel about all the drama coming to a close. I'm personally not a rugby fan, but I couldn't help being swept up into the excitement that has infected New Zealand, particularly manifested on the 5km 'fan trail' that leads right by my house on the way to Eden Park. Yes, crossing the road at game time has been difficult for the last 6 weeks, but I've enjoyed hearing the supportive cat calls and leers towards 'the enemy' in a variety of different languages.

Particularly prominent has been the black flags fluttering in the breeze of passing cars and the silver ferns painted on the cheeks of many a fan, child or adult. Random shouts of 'GO THE ALL BLACKS' have been common at all times of the day and night, and supported with eager replies rather than the looks of disdain that would ordinarily be cast towards overzealous fans at any other time. For this has been 'Rugby World Cup 2011' and 'the world is here to play!'

I'm not actually a native kiwi, so last week watching the game between New Zealand and my home country of Australia, I felt a little 'patriotically-confused'. Especially considering the 'friendly rivalry' (ie. 'Aussie bashing') that one receives when living on enemy territory. There's only so many times you can laugh it off the taunts about your accent and the talent of your nation's rugby team before it gets a bit samey.

But despite my inability to sing along to the New Zealand national anthem, I still couldn't help feeling a sense of patriotism last night as the boys brought it home. And only just! As the clock counted down, with the All Blacks leading by only one point and those nibble Frenchies threatening to kick a drop goal and take it all, I felt just as tense as the hundreds of surrounding Kiwis packed into the old man bar with me.

As morning peaked its sunny head above Auckland's sky tower, the streets tell the story of last night's victory. Unlike every other game night, where late night volunteers have worked hard to clear the streets by morning to maintain New Zealand's 'clean and pristine' image, last night pushed the barriers.

Now that it's over, I've got time to ponder the psychology of it all. The nation seems to be in a state of glorious ecstacy. Perfect strangers talking in the streets, honking horns, and shouting fans, so who cares about a bit of temporary rubbish?My question is how long will this national pride last for? And more than that, what would've happened to the national psyche if the French had managed that drop goal and New Zealand had failed once again? (Thankfully, I don't have to imagine.)

Watching the moments after the game, the All Blacks huddled together as one, ruffling each others hair and slapping their behinds, and all that 'man stuff'. United as one. In start contrast, the French stood in isolation, each carrying the weight of failure alone, magnifying its effects. Standing to receive their medals, they did not seem to remember how far they had come to win the silver medal, but what they had lost. Surely an admirable achievement, but to them second may as well have been last. In that respect, I have to wonder if coming third is more joyous, as at least the Aussies exited the tournament with a win.

Go New Zealand! Congratulations on holding it together despite all the injuries and set backs, to deliver the world cup on home turf. I can't imagine the emotions that Richie McCaw must have been feeling when he held the cup aloft.

But I have to part with words of irony. Whose idea was the colour scheme of New Zealand's rugby team? Apart from the fact that it sounds a bit racist (?), it doesn't give the fans much vibrancy to work with. At midnight last night, the darkened streets were packed with thousands of fans, all dressed in black. And to celebrate the victory, Auckland's sky tower was 'lit up' in black against the night sky. Well I imagine it was, I couldn't see it...

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Welcome to the real world

Today I ventured in the 'real world'. This magical wonderland outside the rhelm of a university, where people make fun of 'science geeks', do not make 'jokes' about computer parts, and expect things to be done on time. Yes, I'm venturing into the world of retail employment, albeit in the semi-scientific form of optical dispensing.

All this is necessary of course because it is in fact rather difficult to live comfortably on a PhD scholarship. ASB's 'track my spending' spells out in a scientific language familiar to me that 'money in'  < 'money out. Hence the need for supplementary income. Whether I have the time for this remains to be seen!

Anyway... from my vantage point as 'the new girl' I was mostly excluded from cliquey humour (not IT-related) between the other employees  that I did not understand, and so was able to make some important observations.

There are many. The pace is faster when customers are in, but slower when not. 'Women's Day' litters the room, and there's no reason to feel guilty for not reading a 'Nature' article when times are slow. Where's the open plan office and my own personal computer? In the real world, there's no reason to be 'researching the internet'. No matter how busy the place gets, I'm not sure I'll ever feel like I'm truly 'working' when I haven't sat at a computer and forced some knowledge into my brain.

'Someone tells me that you're the bright girl,' says one optometrist, whilst my new peers listen on.

'You're going to find this a piece of cake then!'

Embarrassed, I mumble something unconvincing like 'oh no, there's so much to remember'.

Nothing helps one settle into a new environment more than alienating one's peers with talk of 'neurons', 'microscopes' and 'proteins'.

Don't look at me like that, I know nothing. I don't I know how to deal with an angry patient, let alone whilst the phone is ringing in several locations and others are waiting to be served.

Maybe one day in the future, it will be a relief to come and work in the real world to escape the silence craziness of academia. But for now, I crave the familiarity of my own introversion that academia allows me to indulge in.

My PhD is simple in comparison.

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Relaxation Ethic

Yesterday was a public holiday. Bless the Queen and her birthdays.

I took this opportunity to establish a work ethic that I hope will stay with me throughout my PhD.

I relaxed...

Let me introduce my boyfriend. I despise the term BF, so I shall refer to him as P. As a neuroscience student with an interest in enhancing brain function, it seems unnecessary to reserve the acronym for future discussion about methamphetamine use. In case it's too early in the 4 year slog to rule that out, I'll cover my bases. P or PT can be used interchangeably. PT, as in PeTe, PaTrick, etc. You choose.

I've always been impressed by PT's work ethic. 2 and a half years into his PhD, I've never seen him reading a paper or working on his thesis at home. There are several explanations for this:

1. Confirmation bias. I only ever see him when he isn't working, because obviously he is with me.
2. He's only 2 and half years into his PhD, and is putting off the dreaded thesis writing. 
3. He's got a good relaxation ethic and only works when he is at uni. 

Knowing 1 and 2 to be incorrect (information obtained by stalking his house and computer, respectively), I'm going to put my faith in 3, summarised below:

When at uni, I work hard.
When at home, I don't work at all.
When given time off, I don't feel guilty. 

Thanks PT. Hopefully I can follow your example. 

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