Posted in 2025-2026, collaboration, curation, Exhibitions, Reflection

Invigilator X Artist

Someone: Should artists invigilate their own exhibition?

Me: Absolutely not!

We finally opened our first exhibition Unstable #1 on the festival’s opening day 7th of June . The works were powerful, the team was wonderful, and I learned so much from them. I remain deeply grateful to everyone who came, especially my tutor Jonathan. The exhibition brought together artists from Liverpool, London, Glasgow, Germany, and even as far as Australia.

But despite the excitement, I had a difficult experience when I volunteered to invigilate for a day. The Biennial was short of volunteers, and I wanted to help. Yet what I found most challenging was being present in front of my own work: the Sykes–Picot plates, left exactly as they had been on opening night, still holding the crumbs of cake.

When visitors arrived, I would usually begin by introducing the other artists’ works, one by one. I avoided starting with my own. I didn’t present myself as “the artist” but as someone available to guide, to answer questions. I wanted to hear honest responses without the filter of politeness.

Two moments unsettled this:

– First, a group of visitors stopped at my work, were deeply moved, and immediately linked it to what is happening in Gaza. They asked questions, spoke at length, and even wanted a photo of me with the piece.

– Then, two other visitors became emotional as we discussed the history of Sykes–Picot. They spoke of the weariness of violence, of how exhausting it is to keep watching the news. One woman broke down in tears. I felt her exhaustion echo within me, though I tried to remain composed and gently encouraged her to look at the other works.

In those moments, I realised how much people need space to voice their rejection of violence and injustice. We all long for ways to speak out, to push against the weight of helplessness or guilt.. yet, after those encounters, I knew I couldn’t invigilate again. The conclusion was clear: invigilating is not for me.

Posted in 2025-2026, collaboration, curation, Exhibitions, Project, Reflection, Research

The Right Map – My wild Summer 

For more than three months this year, my life was consumed by The Right Map. Coordinating and organising eight shows ( Unstable 1,2,3,4, Account, Account Not Recognised, Slip Stream and In Search of Swallow and Amazon show/fundraising event) across Liverpool was a huge undertaking logistically, emotionally, and artistically. It was intense work: curating, communicating with artists and collaborators, solving problems on the spot, and carrying the responsibility of holding so many different voices together in one programme.

During the summer, I couldn’t write about it.. The pace was too fast, the demands too many, and on top of that, family responsibilities and personal challenges were pulling me in different directions. I was tired, grateful, overwhelmed, and very often carrying mixed feelings that left little room for reflection.

Looking back, I see the full image: what worked, what I loved, what was difficult, and where I grew. Writing from this distance feels possible, even necessary. I realise that part of my practice is not only in the making or the showing but also in reflecting.

The Right Map reminded me of this: the gaps, the tensions and the silences were as important as the works themselves. The experience was more than making artworks. It was about what happens when we work together, recognising where we succeeded so we can carry that forward, and where things did not work so we can avoid them in the future.

In the next posts, I want to unpack some of the moments that stayed with me: the artworks that resonated deeply, the tensions that tested me, the negotiations and miscommunications that revealed the realities of working collectively, and the unexpected joys that reminded me why I do this work.

I needed time to arrive here. To allow the intensity to pass, and to feel ready to write. Now, I can see The Right Map not only as a demanding project but as a turning point in how I think about curation, collaboration, and care in my practice..

The Right Map was a series of exhibitions presented by Ghost Art School as part of the Independents Biennial. Emerging from the spirit of Ghost Art School, it celebrated artists who move between margins, who learn in the cracks, who map their own routes when none are given.

Here, the map was never fixed, drawn in gestures, erased by time, redrawn in conversation, in defiance, in care. The Right Map asked not where we are going, but how we move… and who gets to move with us.

The Right Map 36 artists: Alison Reid, Alma Stritt, Charli Kleeman, Chelsea Johnson, Chris Roberts, Colm Moore, Conner Browne, Cos Ahmet, Danielle Freakley, David W Hicks, Eleanor Capstick, Finn Roberts, Gary Finnegan, Gwendolin Kircali, Halyna Maystrenko-Grant, Hannah Browne, Harriet Morley, Igor Prato Luna, Jasmir Creed, Jessica Crowe, Karema Munassar, Lily Patricija, Mai Sanchez, Marie-Sofie Braune, Molly Lindsay, Molly Mousdell, Phoebe Thomas, Priya Foster, Ritu Arya, Rory Macbeth, Sonic Relics, Theodora Koumbouzis, Tom Doubtfire, Tom Kelly, Valentina Passerini, and Xueying Zhang 

Posted in collaboration, Exhibitions, Experiments, Research

The Right Map

Poster credit: Phoebe Thomas

Coordinating The Right Map for the Ghost Art School artists was intended as an act of support for others. But in the process, I found myself unexpectedly charting new ground in my own practice. What began as a curatorial and facilitative role gradually unfolded into a deep personal enquiry, one that significantly shaped my ongoing research in social sculpture.

I began to notice shifts in my own thinking. Supporting artists to articulate their intentions, reflect on their choices, and ground their practice compelled me to ask the same of myself. It was not a passive role; it was active, dynamic, and generative.

Interestingly, throughout The Right Map, I found myself increasingly drawn to the curatorial aspects of my work more than the making itself. It’s not just about presenting artworks, it’s about orchestrating experiences, holding conversations, shaping encounters. I became fascinated with how frameworks are built, how meaning is constructed around and through art. In many ways, the coordination itself became a form of social sculpture.

This shift is not about stepping away from being an artist…it’s about understanding the expanded field in which I operate. Curation, facilitation, research, and community-building have become a core tool kit in my practice. Through coordinating The Right Map, I gained new confidence in embracing this hybridity. I no longer see it as fragmented, but rather as a cohesive and intentional mode of working that reflects my values and voice.

https://www.instagram.com/p/DJov3YBo9Yg/?igsh=Mnd6MWh3MXRuaDQy

Posted in collaboration, Moon, Project, Reflection, Research, Writing

A Collaboration on Dear Moon (Service Point JNG)

Working on Dear Moon has been one of the most personal and expansive projects I’ve ever taken on. While the words came slowly, shaped by honesty and quiet reflection, the visual form of the book took a different kind of journey, one that became stronger and more meaningful through collaboration.

I had the pleasure of working with Jiayi and GG, two recent MA Graphic Design graduates from the university. They took on the challenge of designing Dear Moon and brought their own vision to it. Where I had initially imagined something simple, quiet, and almost invisible in its design letting the words do all the work they brought something else entirely: depth, elegance, and boldness in aesthetic.

Their design sensibility was so different from mine. I approached the book with simplicity, wanting to preserve the gentle rhythm of the letters and photographs without interruption. I didn’t want the visuals to overpower the messages within. But what Jiayi and GG brought was not overpowering it was enhancing. They introduced a poetic visual language: deep blues, moonscapes that speak for themselves, layout choices that echo the movement of tides and emotion. They weren’t just decorating; they were interpreting.

Looking at the final book now, I see a true collaboration. It’s no longer just a collection of letters; it’s a designed experience. A conversation between stillness and form.

Collaborating in this way has taught me the value of letting go. Of sharing creative control. Of trusting others to hold your work with care and transform it with love and intention. I feel Dear Moon is stronger because of this process, and I’m grateful to Jiayi and GG for reminding me how powerful cross-disciplinary work can be.

https://www.instagram.com/p/DHa-GsDKStV/?igsh=MWVza3g4eGFrZ2g0bw==