“I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else.”
— C.S. Lewis, Is Theology Poetry?
Before there was a name for it — before Casa Ferrari Arte existed at all — there were two pieces. They came first, made by different hands, for different reasons, years apart, with no plan behind them beyond something each artist simply had to make. Every so often, two things like that turn out to have been telling the same story all along without anyone knowing it. That's exactly what happened here, and it's the reason Casa Ferrari Arte exists in the first place.
The Cross
This piece began not in a studio, but on the coast of Florida, where James Ferrari was fishing when he spotted a weathered piece of Australian pine driftwood. Something about it stopped him — he was moved enough that he had to bring it home. What he made from it became this: a striking, sculptural cross, its branches reaching outward like something caught between growth and surrender.
James Ferrari's driftwood cross, crafted from Australian pine found on the Florida coast.
Charles and I brought this cross home while we were in a season of diving deep into our faith, and it has become the centerpiece of our home ever since. What still amazes us is its effect on the people who encounter it — Christian or not, nearly everyone who stands in front of it is moved. Some to tears. Some to goosebumps. Some just stand there, quiet, in complete awe. It has a presence that's hard to explain and even harder to forget.
Cemetery Beach
The second piece came from an entirely different place, both literally and creatively. This is Cemetery Beach, right here in Grand Cayman, painted by Debra Ferrari as a commissioned piece. Debra worked from a photograph our daughter, Ailysh, took a few years ago at sunset — one of those panoramic, breathtaking shots that our sunsets here seem to produce almost nightly, as if the island can't help but show off.
“Cemetery Beach,” commissioned from Debra Ferrari, based on a sunset photograph taken by our daughter Ailysh.
It hangs in the part of our home where we spend most of our own beach-facing hours, a daily reminder of the place and the light that drew us to paint it in the first place.
An Unexpected Thread
Here's where the story turns into something neither Debra nor Jim could have planned. I was preparing to teach a mindfulness class for the Cayman Islands Cancer Society, and I went looking for a rooted, evergreen, local tree I could use to represent resilience and unwavering strength. In the course of that research, I learned that the Australian pine grows right here on our own beaches.
That's when it hit me. The tree standing quietly in the left-hand corner of Debra's sunset painting — the one I'd looked at countless times without a second thought — is an Australian pine. The very same species of driftwood that Jim found on a Florida shoreline and turned into the cross that anchors our home.
No one knew this while either piece was being made. These two works were created separately, by two different artists, and shipped all the way from Dallas, Texas to Grand Cayman on their own separate journeys. And yet here they are, rooted — quite literally — in the same tree. I don't believe that's mere coincidence.
Welcome home, to both of you.
Why This Is the Beginning of Casa Ferrari Arte
Jim and Debra made both of these pieces from the heart, with dedication and God-given talent. Casa Ferrari Arte wasn't even a name yet — that came later. These two works simply came first, and they are the reason it exists at all.
Artist Credits
The Cross — James Ferrari, founding artist of Casa Ferrari Arte
Cemetery Beach — Debra Ferrari, founding artist of Casa Ferrari Arte