October 2024 – Karema

This week I had a meaningful 1-1 tutorial with Jonathan, my mentor and program leader, where we explored some key themes about my practice, my personal journey through the MA course, and what I aim to achieve. It felt like an opportunity to articulate where I stand, what’s driving me, and the challenges I face both as an artist and an individual in this phase of learning and growth.

Understanding My Strengths and Struggles

One of the core topics I touched upon was my relationship with my practice and how I feel about myself in the process. I’ve come to recognise that my strength lies in my sensitivity to my surroundings, which deeply influences my work. This sensitivity fuels a duty and responsibility to respond to the world, but I also know that it can sometimes slow me down. That sense of being attuned to everything around me means I can easily be overwhelmed, especially when I’m stressed.

However, I also realise that this sensitivity is an asset—it makes my work honest, grounded, and connected to the social and political contexts that inspire me. Even when my practice slows, it’s because I’m thinking deeply, processing, and making space for genuine ideas to emerge. I’ve learned to trust that.

Embracing Experimentation and the Joy of “Wrongness”

One of the things Jonathan and I discussed was my openness to experimentation. I’m tolerant when it comes to the technical side of my work—I love to play with any medium that comes my way. There’s something liberating about embracing “wrongness,” about leaning into mistakes and seeing where they take me. I like surprises in the process, and I’ve found that those surprises often lead to new insights or shifts in my work that I wouldn’t have discovered otherwise.

But no matter the medium or method, there’s always a thread of honesty in my concepts. They consistently reflect the social and political themes that matter to me. The work might take different shapes or directions, but the core is always about addressing or engaging with the world in a real and meaningful way.

Mapping the Next Steps

I know I need to design a roadmap—one that helps me navigate where I want to go with my social sculpture practice and what will truly feed my hunger for growth in this area. I have so many ideas simmering, and I want to channel them in a structured way, giving myself the best chance to explore new depths in my work. I believe having a map, a vision for where I want to go, will help me find that balance between responding to the world around me and moving forward with intention.

In the end, this tutorial left me feeling more clear about my strengths and more prepared to tackle the next phase of my MA. There’s always room for growth, and I’m excited to see where this exploration takes me.

I struggled to start my MA blog, even though I have so many things to say. I’m learning and enjoying every minute of it, and I also feel lucky and honoured to be among a group of talented artists.
Last week, Jonathan asked us to experiment with failure and how we can allow mistakes to happen in our practice—how, through accepting mistakes and failures, they can become new opportunities and successes.

I made a short film to experiment and learn because I still see filmmaking as my weakest skill.
Weirdly, during the process, I stopped and ended the film with an image of Gaza’s latest fires. I felt I couldn’t finish what I was doing. But this also captured the feeling I was seeking. There’s something within me that’s preventing me from working the way I want and enjoying my art as I usually do. My work usually carries a sense of humour. Now, I realise I have a deep feeling of loss and guilt. I’m grieving for our humanity, and one year feels like a heavy burden.
Here’s a link to my short film Water: https://youtu.be/1OncD3MNXiY?si=ZwQMCftbvF5BnnHY.

And below is me reposting an old post from September 2020. Back then, I asked, “Oh, the past, are you still here?” Four years later, my answer remains: yes.

Oh, the past, are you still here?

Today I visited the Don McCullin Exhibition at Tate Liverpool. For the first time, my eyes did not shed tears in front of those tragic images. My eyes are usually beyond my control, but today they remained dry, and my throat was tight. A voice from deep within called out, “Oh, the past, are you still here?” What have I done to myself today? Or what have you done, Mr. Don McCullin?

Two hundred photographs from around the world, all the pain from west to east. It’s incredible how a blind object with one eye can capture what our own eyes cannot see.

What is the difference between yesterday and today? How many countries are still suffering? How many people are homeless? Have their numbers increased? Oh Iraq, are you any better? Oh Palestine, are you still alive? Oh Lebanon, tell me, how is your Beirut? Oh Africa, are you still hungry? Oh Europe, how are your homes? Many questions swirled in my mind, and many images resurfaced from my unconscious memory, voices calling from the past.

16/09/2020