collaboration – Karema

2025-2026, Books, collaboration, Moon, Reading, Social Sculpture, Writing

Second Edition- MA Show and Future plan

Posted on May 23, 2026May 24, 2026 by KM

Holding the second edition feels incredibly special and precious. I can see years of effort gathered within its pages. Looking through the photographs and reading people’s letters has been deeply emotional, and it also makes me long for the years when we sent personal handwritten letters instead of quick text messages.

Perhaps this is why I still treasure the letters from my own childhood, safely kept in a small box. They are funny, emotional, and incredibly valuable to me, especially when I think about where everyone has ended up in life and how relationships shift and change over time. Handwritten letters hold traces of people that digital communication often loses.

Mixed of letters from 90s and early 2000-2003

As an artist with hyperactivity, and as someone who uses art as a survival tool, I made two interconnected bodies of work: a book and a tea set. I feel there’s something comforting and timeless about reading books while drinking a cup of tea.

Dear Moon is the main work I have developed over the last two years, and I believe it should be the piece I present in the final exhibition. More than a book, it has become a form of social sculpture, a collective artwork shaped through care, participation, and exchange. It includes the names of 57 participants alongside anonymous contributions and my own letters woven throughout the pages. I eventually removed my name from each individual page because it felt unnecessary to repeat it so many times, especially when my presence already exists throughout the project as its organiser, editor, and contributor.

The book is 184 pages long, rich with different stories, voices, languages, and histories. Some texts date back to 1974, while others were written as recently as May 2026. Several contributors chose to write in their home languages, which adds another layer of intimacy and authenticity to the work. People continue to engage with the project and send new letters whenever I exhibit the letter box, allowing the project to remain alive rather than fixed or complete.

This year, I also spent much more time refining my moon photography, both while taking the photographs and later through editing, especially in relation to light and colour. The images feel more resolved and intentional now, and together with the letters they create a stronger emotional atmosphere. For these reasons, I feel Dear Moon deserves to be shown at Central Saint Martins. I’ll display two copies of the book on two different stands at different heights, one lower for accessibility and one at a standard height. I’ll also include the black letter box with paper and pens.

Copies of the book will also be available to borrow through Sefton Libraries in Crosby, Bootle, and Netherton. I also have a digital version prepared, although I’m still undecided about uploading it to my website. Part of me feels I should wait until every participant has received their physical copy first.

I’m also planning a shared reading session at Bootle Library this summer, where contributors from Liverpool will be invited to read and celebrate their work together. I hope Chris Day, the eldest participant, will attend and share the beautiful story she wrote about the moon in 1974. Another participant I would love to attend is Belinda Ludlow, another mature participant who studied English Literature some time ago. She told me she has always found it difficult to publish her writing because she tends to approach it from a highly analytical perspective. Hopefully, her letter to the moon will become the first step towards restarting her writing journey.

What I love most about Dear Moon is that it carries a genuine sense of community, care, and mutual respect. It reminds me that art can hold people together across generations, languages, and experiences.

Next month, I’ll deliver a Dear Moon workshop as part of the come back programme, in collaboration with the Arab British Centre and Longsight Art Space in Manchester. This will be the first Dear Moon workshop outside Liverpool.

https://www.arabbritishcentre.org.uk/whatson/as-we-are-creative-exchange-day-the-comeback/

The programme supports adults who have taken long breaks from creative practice, or who always wished they had the opportunity to study art. My workshop will focus on building connections, encouraging confidence, and demonstrating that art does not require expensive materials or complicated equipment. Art begins with stories, and every person carries a story worth telling.

Another meaningful part of this experience was being asked by the Arab British Centre to create a very short 30 seconds video for social media. Their request was inspired by something I had spoken about previously: how, after having children, I rediscovered creativity by making art personal rather than treating it as a chore, something meaningful that didn’t depend on money or expensive materials.

At first, I thought, “This is even harder than the 3 minute video Jonathan asked us to make” I asked a filmmaker friend whether 30 seconds could truly hold a story, and she replied “Plenty of time!”

So, the first thing I did was write my words and record my voice so I could understand the rhythm and timing. I removed unnecessary sentences and focused only on the essence of what I wanted to communicate. Afterwards, I asked a friend to help me film footage at St George’s Hall.

I made the video in Arabic because the programme hopes to reach Arab participants, but I also included English subtitles so everyone could feel welcome and included. The process felt surprisingly natural, and I realised how much the short film assignments from the course had prepared me for this experience. It showed me how learning within an educational structure can become a practical tool in the real world.

Also, in July, I’ll be running a family creative session as part of the Liverpool Arab Arts Festival 2026.

Looking ahead, I can already see Dear Moon continuing to grow through more workshops, new letters, exchanges, and future collaborations. In particular, I’m planning to publish Dear Friend in 2027, a book that will carry replies from the moon.

I’ll also be co-producing Turkish Day at the library in December 2026 and helping organise a Community Iftar at the library in February 2027.

So rather than feeling like the end of the MA, it feels like the beginning of a much longer conversation, where all this knowledge can continue to grow and live within my work and everyday life.

With lots of gratitude,

karema 😊

2025-2026, collaboration, Exhibitions, Moon

Home and Away

Posted on May 13, 2026May 21, 2026 by KM

Home and Away exhibition is open to the public until the end of this month. It was a great opportunity to collaborate with women who share similar experiences of migration and displacement. The artists came from different countries, including the Philippines, Venezuela, Poland, Croatia, Sudan, and Argentina.

The process felt empowering for all of us, creating space for conversations, shared memories, and reflection. We also spoke about how the exhibition could continue to develop and potentially be shown in other places in the future.

This experience became an important reflection for my MA and good practice before the final show. It also opened doors for future collaborations with both the artists and the venue.

I also received more moon letters, which made me realise that the project has the potential to continue for as long as the letter box remains part of the exhibition. People still feel drawn to writing and sending physical letters, even without expecting a reply. The project reflects a sense of trust and connection between people, which feels especially meaningful today. This experience also encouraged me to think about how the project could keep evolving over time through future collections and publications.

Another important thing I learned was how I can present pages from the book in different formats. The book itself can exist as one form, but larger pieces can also work well and catch the viewer’s attention.

Home and Away is open to the public until the end of this month, and it has already attracted attention from Liverpool’s websites. Promotion was not something I initially wanted to focus on, but one of the fellow artists was very enthusiastic about spreading the word, and she did a great job. It was also a valuable opportunity to observe and learn from other artists, and to recognise how we might use and support each other’s skills in future collaborations.

https://explore-liverpool.com/home-and-away-art-exhibition-at-st-georges-hall/

https://liverpoolcityhalls.co.uk/events/event/home-away-exhibition-one-belonging-place-and-memory/

https://liverpoolnoise.com/arts-and-culture/home-and-away-workshops-exhibition-st-georges-hall/

2025-2026, Books, collaboration, Exhibitions, Moon, Reading, Tutorials 2025-26, Writing

1-1 Tutorial 22nd April

Posted on May 3, 2026 by KM

Last week I had my final 1–1 tutorial, and it was a very valuable conversation in which I was able to reflect on my work and plan for the coming months, thinking about challenges and what matters most right now. Having this discussion at this stage feels important, because I believe I need Jonathan’s insight and guidance while I’m still in the process of making.

The tutorial gave me a great deal of confidence, and the next day I began designing the bone-dry tea set. I made 21 pieces for the tea set, alongside over 20 small crescent forms, which I will use to make bookmarks for our MA Digital class. Each ceramic piece carrying a story from colonial history. I find that I can’t add anything to the work unless I’m sure it’s relevant and contributes to the overall narrative, and this does slow me down slightly. However, this has been one of the most important lessons during my MA: taking the time to build a cohesive body of work, without unnecessary additions or distractions. I can easily feel overwhelmed and distracted but I have learned to recognise that moment. When it happens, I stop adding and instead spend time reading around the theme or taking a break. This is how my ceramics project develops through slow reading, while the Moon Book has developed through slow writing.

I spent the week working with clay, while also setting up the new show at Liverpool St George’s Hall, where I will be showing Moon Book pages on silk (factory print). I made these last year for The Right Map 2025 but did not have the right opportunity to present them. Now they feel more suited to the theme (Home and Away) and to the space at St George’s Hall. I installed them over a long black heater, where the warm air creates a gentle movement in the work, subtly animating the delicate sheets.

At the core of my social sculpture practice is care and the intention to make a meaningful difference. The Moon Book demonstrates this clearly by connecting people and creating space for shared vulnerability. After the last workshop, some participants began sending me letters in response to others letters. I feel a deep sense of gratitude towards this project and the people involved. Writing letters feels especially meaningful, and I’m excited about the next book Dear Friend (2027). What I find particularly beautiful is that some children are growing up through this process, and some participants who have never met are writing to each other with genuine care and intimacy. It shows how powerful and delicate these connections are. I feel I owe a great deal to everyone who has taken part.

The tea set also functions as a form of social sculpture. It consists of multiple pieces that invite interaction, through storytelling, through history, and through use. Sharing stories from the past is itself a way of engaging with people who are no longer here. In this sense, the work becomes a way to educate, to encourage questions, and to create opportunities for participation.

For example, discussing the Opium War came up in my tutorial with Jonathan. We began asking: how many “opium wars” exist today? How many forms of addiction are being created, and how will these stories be told in the future? Simply bringing these questions to the table is part of the work. It opens up dialogue and that is where social sculpture begins to happen.

2025-2026, Books, collaboration, Exhibitions, Moon, Social Sculpture, Writing

Dear Moon,

Posted on April 20, 2026 by KM

When I arrived in the UK, everything felt strange and new, but your face was the only one that remained old and familiar…

Today, I led a moon workshop at St George’s Hall, after weeks of preparing for the upcoming exhibition Home and Away, organised by artist Mariana Sequera. The project explores ideas of home, displacement, and migration. It’s a concepts that seem simple at first, but quickly unfold into something more complex the moment you invite others in.

Recently, images from Artemis II showing the Moon’s far side, pulled me back to the letters. I found myself rereading them, and with that came a quiet but firm feeling: it’s time to finish the book, and to stop collecting more.

While sharing the open call for Home and Away and encouraging people to participate, I noticed how easily themes like displacement are interpreted in narrow ways. There is often an assumption that such experiences belong only to certain groups, and not to others. This made me reflect on how art spaces frame experience, and how belonging is often defined, sometimes invisibly within those frames.

Since last year, I’ve chosen not to rush the second Dear Moon book. I’ve learned that timing is not separate from the work. Showing something in the wrong moment or context can mean it’s overlooked, or misunderstood. This awareness is shaped by my position as a woman, a mother, and a Muslim, identities that are often underestimated, even by those close to me.

I’m learning to resist two opposing pressures: the demand to remain constantly visible, and the quiet acceptance of being marginalised. Somewhere between these, Dear Moon has become a space of its own. Writing to the Moon creates a particular kind of room, it allows for distance, but also intimacy. The letters themselves hold so much. They open memory, reflection, and connection. There is something therapeutic in that, but I try not to reduce it to therapy alone. Each contribution carries its own layers.

C, a retired nurse, shared a story she wrote in the 1970s, along with a receipt showing she was paid £8 when it was broadcast on Miri Mawar, a programme on Welsh HTV. Including her work now brings different times into conversation with each other, raising questions about value, recognition, and whose voices are remembered. In contrast, A’s drawing of the Moon’s phases offers another way of understanding participation. As a child with severe physical and learning difficulties, his contribution gently disrupts expectations of what artistic expression should look like. The Moon’s cycles, appearing and disappearing feel like a quiet reflection on resilience and change.

Through all of this, I’ve started to think of trust as a material within the work. People are not just contributing content..they are offering something personal. That comes with responsibility: to hold these contributions with care. As the book nears completion, I feel both excited and uncertain. I want to hold it, but Im still thinking about how to share it. In previous exhibitions, Dear Moon often felt unresolved, shaped by time pressure, or by divided attention.

2025-2026, collaboration, Experiments, Social Sculpture, Visit

Reflection on Alex Schady Workshop Collaborative Making and Social Sculpture

Posted on March 15, 2026 by KM

I took part in a workshop led by Alex Schady as part of the Fine Art Digital Residency week which thoughtfully organised by Jonathan for both MA classes.

The session focused on collaborative making and began with a simple exercise: a flat sheet of cardboard was shared and each student created an arrow. I made a very simple arrow, similar to Alex’s example, while others explored more playful and experimental shapes. I noticed something familiar about my role in workshops I often observe more than I produce, watching how others approach the task becomes part of my learning process.

We then moved outside to the street and began performing with our objects, engaging with the urban environment and the people around us. The arrows shifted from being simple objects to becoming gestures in public space.. Accusatory fingers!

In the next stage we worked in pairs to create inflatable body extensions using plastic sheets. I collaborated with Rachael, and we agreed to make angel wings. The process was technically tricky, due to delicate material, but we managed to build them, and had a lot of fun experimenting with movement.

Afterwards we gathered outside for a collective performance where everyone presented their creations. Eventually groups merged and people began wearing multiple extensions, forming a kind of shared body. The performance ended with one large collective body.

What stayed with me most was the way Alex held the space. He allowed collaboration to happen naturally without pressure. No one felt forced to participate in a particular way. This made me think about concept of social sculpture and the idea that society itself can be shaped through collective processes.

The workshop felt like a small example of this idea. Through simple materials and shared actions we created a temporary social structure based on making, negotiating and performing together.

Afterwards I visited the first-year MA students’ exhibition. It was interesting to see the space and reflect on how quickly time passes during the MA journey. It was also lovely meeting fellow artists in person for the first time there was an immediate sense of familiarity and trust.

Although I could only stay for a few hours, the experience felt full. Sometimes a few meaningful hours can contain days of learning. Alex’s workshop demonstrated how much can happen in a short time making, performing and collaborating and it left me wondering how much deeper this process could go if we had the opportunity to continue it over several sessions.

2025-2026, collaboration, curation, Project, Social Sculpture

Iftar as Social Sculpture

Posted on March 15, 2026 by KM

Last year I was invited to organise a community iftar a few months after the Southport attack and the rise of far right protests. I accepted immediately, but I kept the first event simple. It felt important to move carefully. After it went well, we decided to make it a regular gathering that people in the community could expect and look forward to.

This year the project developed in three connected parts. The first was a shared reading session on the second day of Ramadan ( check previous post). The second was an anti racism cooking workshop. The third was a collective iftar meal at the library where around forty people gathered to break the fast together.

For the cooking session I invited an Iranian chef to lead a workshop where we prepared a vegetable curry. Participants from the Kitchen Library, mostly local English speaking volunteers, joined colleagues and other volunteers. People cooked together, shared food, and stayed to talk before leaving. Later that day I prepared small blessing cards for the following evening.

The next day my colleague Niamh, artist and producer for the Kitchen Library, and I went shopping for ingredients and refreshments. Back at the library we started preparing the meal. Niamh made stuffed dates for dessert. I cooked a vegan curry and bulgur while Greg and Joe helped with preparation and logistics. At the same time we rearranged the library space so it felt less like an institutional environment and more like a shared domestic space.

By the time the guests arrived everything was ready. Before breaking the fast I welcomed everyone and spoke briefly about Ramadan. I also shared this small story:

Recently I called my sister to ask how the first day of Ramadan had gone. She told me that her youngest daughter 4 yrs old saw the dinner table prepared and suddenly asked “Where is he?” They asked, “Who?”.. She replied, “Ramadan! Everything is ready.. Why hasn’t he arrived?”

For my niece, Ramadan was not an abstract period of time..it was a guest expected at the table!

In many ways this reflects how the month is often experienced. People prepare for it, welcome it, and look forward to its arrival. In Arabic we say Ahlan Ramadan. The phrase comes from Ahlan wa sahlan ( أهلا وسهلاً) which has been used to welcome guests in Arabic culture for centuries.

It is often translated as “welcome”, but the meaning is deeper. Ahlan comes from ahl (أهل) meaning family. It suggests that the guest is not a stranger but someone among their own people. Sahlan comes from (سهل)sahl, meaning ease or smooth ground. It suggests that the path between host and guest should be easy and open. Together the phrase expresses a form of hospitality that goes beyond politeness. It means you belong here and this space is open to you. Another common greeting is (مرحبا)marhaban. The word comes from (رحب) rahb, meaning wide or spacious. It also suggests openness and generosity. After sharing this, I invited people to say “welcome” in their own languages. We heard it in Chinese, Dari, Farsi, Urdu, German, Norwegian, and Portuguese. This small moment helped set the tone for the evening.

Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic lunar calendar, and fasting during this month is one of the five pillars of Islam. From before sunrise until sunset, Muslims do not eat or drink.. They also avoid smoking and intimacy. Not everyone fasts, children, people who are ill, elderly people, pregnant or breastfeeding women, women during menstruation, and travellers are exempt.

The fast is usually broken with dates and water. After a long day without food or drink the body returns to eating slowly. But fasting is not only about the body. It is also about awareness. It interrupts habits of consumption and invites reflection about what we need and what shapes our desires. Hunger changes how we feel and how we see the world. It makes the body more present, but it also reminds us of people who live with food insecurity every day. For a moment the difference between abundance and scarcity becomes more visible.. This can open space for empathy!

The project worked with the fragile conditions through which community is formed. Cooking, waiting, and breaking the fast together created a pause in everyday life. For a short time the library changed from an institutional space into a shared domestic space shaped by the people who were there. The iftar was not only an event. It became a temporary social form created through shared work, food, and conversation. Even small acts of welcome can change how a public space feels, even if only for a short time.

2025-2026, collaboration, Project, Reading, Social Sculpture, Writing

March Shared Reading

Posted on March 15, 2026 by KM

We recently started a new group in my programme called International Shared Reading, with the support of The Reader. Instead of taking the training myself, I recommended two women from my group an assistant from Afghanistan and a volunteer from Portugal to take the paid training and co-lead the sessions alongside my co-producer, while I support them where needed. I believe that our strength comes from building a strong team rather than individual effort.

As part of the preparations for our upcoming Iftar gathering, I led a special reading session. It created a space to ask questions and learn more about Ramadan. We read a poem together, spoke about prayer, and people asked many questions about fasting and other related topics. Questions are welcome, they help clarify misunderstandings. When I went home that evening, I kept thinking about our conversation. Later, a volunteer sent a beautiful message in our group chat thanking me for the session.

The next day I decided to create small blessing or affirmation cards for our guests, inspired by the poem we read together. I Hope You Make It, a poem by Maxine Meixner, is written in a simple and beautiful way. The words can reach people without challenging them with difficult language. I spent the day writing my simple prayers and preparing the cards so I could finish them at the library the next day.

The cards are simple and decorated with flowers. I chose lavender because it has a gentle, calming scent. In a way, the cards became a small social sculpture, something guests could take with them, carrying the memory of the Iftar after they leave.

2025-2026, collaboration, curation, Experiments, Motivations, Research, Social Sculpture, Visit

Free Workshops

Posted on February 11, 2026March 5, 2026 by KM

Last Sunday, I spent a rewarding day with Ghost Art School and creatives from October Salon (a new collective in Preston led byHannah Browne). My aim was to organise a free workshops day, focused on sharing knowledge and skills without the need for materials or money. I offered an introductory session in British Sign Language (BSL), while Liverpool-based artists Tom Kelly and Tom Doubtfire generously shared aspects of their practices. Hannah provided the space in Preston, making the event possible through collaboration rather than institutional support.

The day had several clear intentions. Firstly, I wanted to gather with peers and begin the year in a meaningful, collaborative way, learning together and exchanging knowledge. Secondly, the event allowed us to engage with October Salon, an emerging creative group, and to demonstrate what can happen through collective artistic practice.

The programme began with Tom Doubtfire leading a discussion on the role of the artist and the relationship between art and activism. His reflections centred on disturbance, sustainability, sacrifice, and focus. The group discussed what it means for art to be disturbing, what sustainable practice might look like, how much we are willing to sacrifice and the importance of setting limits, also how to remain focused on our aims.

This was followed by my one-hour introduction to BSL. My motivation for teaching BSL stems from both personal conviction and historical awareness. The language was banned in the United Kingdom between 1880 and 1970, and despite its cultural and social importance, it still receives limited funding in education. BSL was officially recognised as a language in 2003 and granted legal status in 2022, yet it is still not included in the GCSE curriculum. In this context, teaching BSL freely can be understood as a quiet form of activism! Challenging ableism, questioning unequal access to culture, and sharing knowledge rather than gatekeeping it.

BSL is also highly visual and expressive, connecting strongly with creative disciplines. It can influence performance, filmmaking, choreography, and storytelling, functioning not only as a language but also as an artistic medium. More broadly, offering knowledge without payment can be seen as a response to the increasing commercialisation of the arts. It reminds us that generosity and collective growth still hold value.

The day concluded with a workshop led by Tom Kelly, which provided a joyful ending. His approach to clowning demonstrated that it’s not simply about being silly, but about exploring human emotions through humour and vulnerability. Through simple games and spontaneous interaction, the group communicated naturally, without preparation. There was a strong sense of care, kindness, and mutual respect among participants.

The structure of the day loosely echoed Joseph Beuys’ idea of the Free International University, an artist-led model of education independent from institutions and grounded in dialogue and shared learning. By offering knowledge freely and prioritising exchange over production, the gathering became less about outcomes and more about shaping a temporary community through participation.

For me, the impact of this day was more meaningful than any individual artwork I’ve made recently. It highlighted the importance of shared time, laughter, and informal learning within creative communities. It felt like an encouraging and significant beginning for the group, grounded in connection rather than productivity alone

2025-2026, collaboration, curation, Project, Research, Social Sculpture

Wedding At The Library

Posted on December 15, 2025December 15, 2025 by KM

This month I co produced a Sudanese wedding ceremony at the library. The work used a familiar civic space to hold a cultural practice that is usually private, celebratory and communal, placing it in dialogue with public life. While the process was challenging, it opened the library as a site of encounter rather than quiet consumption, attracting visitors who came not only to observe but to learn and witness together.

The project emerged from my fortnightly creative sessions at the library, which I facilitate with a group of participants to support newly arrived women and children to connect, settle in Bootle, make friendships and practise English through informal and collective activity. These sessions operate as a slow infrastructure of care rather than a fixed outcome. The wedding ceremony was not pre planned by me, but proposed by the Sudanese women themselves, who expressed a strong desire to share their wedding traditions.

My favourite clip shows a library visitor dancing at the back with a child

At a time when Sudan is experiencing profound political and humanitarian crisis, my role was not to represent suffering but to create conditions for self representation. Social sculpture, in this context, becomes an ethical practice of listening, redistribution of authorship and trust. Two women developed the idea of the ceremony, another joined to perform the pride ritual wearing traditional jewellery and clothing, while a Sudanese musician volunteered to provide live music. A young filmmaker offered to document the event, and participants brought desserts to share with guests. Each contribution shifted the work further away from individual authorship and towards collective agency.

The material and practical elements of the event were equally collaborative. My colleagues from the Kitchen Library, Niamh and Greg, cooked a Sudanese ful recipe alongside one of our Sudanese participant and other regular volunteers. In an earlier session, we made tealight candle holders specifically for the ceremony. A young native English speaker asked to help, so I invited her to lead a simple workshop using air dry clay. This gesture disrupted assumed roles of helper and helped, positioning participation as reciprocal rather than charitable.

The work required shared energy and care, particularly during a period when I was navigating significant personal challenges. It would not have been possible without collective support, especially from artist Joe Goff, who co produced the programme with me. Social sculpture here is not symbolic but logistical, emotional and temporal, shaped by availability, exhaustion and trust. It asks not what is produced, but how people are held, and what it means to be human here and elsewhere.

The audience reflected a wide range of cultural backgrounds, with many people wearing traditional dress. What continues to surprise me is that white, native visitors often attend these gatherings in greater numbers than people from the global majority. Their presence is marked by curiosity and attentiveness, contradicting dominant narratives that frame cultural difference as a threat. The work quietly resists fear by offering proximity, time and shared experience rather than explanation.

This approach connects to last year Iranian celebration I produced at the library during a period of heightened political tension. Food prepared by an Iranian participant and an Iranian chef, including vegan rice and saffron pudding, was shared alongside music. Ceramic coasters I had made and later decorated by women and children were placed on the tables, functioning as both objects and traces of process.

The music and dancing marked the most memorable moment at the end of the event. The shared rhythms of Iranian, Kurdish and Afghan cultures brought people together to dance, filling the space as others looked on with quiet admiration.

Visitors, including people from the Afghan Refugee Centre and staff from Sefton Council, expressed gratitude for the experience, not as an act of hospitality delivered to them, but as a moment of living!Within my MA research, these projects operate as social sculptures that prioritise relational labour, slowness and care. They resist spectacle and instead test how public institutions can temporarily become spaces where people are not spoken about, but speak, host and shape meaning themselves.

2025-2026, collaboration, Motivations, Reflection, Research, Uncategorized, Writing

Feedback!

Posted on December 3, 2025 by KM

What can I say… this experience has reminded me why I love working collectively and why it is so important not to rely on a single resource or only on self-knowledge.

Giving feedback as a group is such a powerful idea and such a beautiful way to enrich one another’s reflection on our practice. I genuinely loved sharing my thoughts with each of my peers and reading theirs in return. The work is amazing, it expresses human experience in such diverse ways, full of richness, honesty and genuine emotion. I felt truly honoured to be among them and lucky to witness their progress over time.

It was emotional to reflect on how we are growing together, holding each other’s hands virtually on this journey with such care and generosity. It reminded me of Jonathan’s first session in October 2024, when he spoke about kindness and compassion and how these could become the strength of our collective and our cohort. Throughout the course, he has guided us with constant care and kindness, so it is no surprise that he created this opportunity: for each of us to write short feedback for one another on a shared Miro board dedicated to every artist.

My peers’ feedback has genuinely boosted my confidence and trust in my practice. Of course, there are always things missing, intentionally or not, due to circumstances and the challenges of process. But receiving feedback that recognises your efforts is deeply energising, especially as a socially engaged artist, where the social aspect is the heart of the work.

I will definitely return to this Miro board whenever I need to. It has become a beautiful space, full of thoughts floating in this quiet corner of cyberspace.