Category: Reflection

Posted in Reflection, Research

Art for Earth’s Sake: Reflections on the First Session of the Peer Learning Programme 2025

Posted on by KM

The first session of Art for Earth’s Sake by Engage: 

Peer Learning Programme was both inspiring and thought-provoking. This initiative, designed by Engage members, brings together diverse voices to explore how visual arts can respond to the pressing environmental and ecological crises of our time. The online session created a dynamic space for connection, exchange, and collective learning.

Art has long served as a powerful medium for addressing complex issues. During the session, we reflected on how art can function as a “place” — a vital space for connection, communication, and fostering belonging. This concept resonated deeply with me. As an artist, I believe meaningful change begins when we create spaces for open dialogue and shared experiences.

Today’s headlines—be it Gaza burning under human conflict or wildfires ravaging Los Angeles—serve as stark reminders of our interconnected crises. Climate change, political instability, and violence are all deeply entwined. As humans, we bear the responsibility to make a difference, no matter how small. Saying “no” to war, violence, and greed is critical before the Earth pushes back. This realisation drove me to join this programme, especially as a producer working with refugees and students eager to learn about socially engaged art around themes of politics, migration, and the environment.

A recent discussion at Liverpool’s “ghost art school,” which I co-organised, reminded me of the importance of shared spaces. A fellow artist remarked, “Living is a way of research.” I would add that living with others—and fostering environments where people feel safe and free—is essential for authentic collaboration and growth.

One of the most compelling topics from the session was ecocentrism—a philosophy that centres Earth and its ecosystems rather than humanity alone. This approach challenges the anthropocentric mindset dominating contemporary thought.

Ecocentrism is not a modern idea; it has been integral to indigenous cultures for millennia, embedded in their traditions and laws. This was a moment of profound clarity for me. To genuinely tackle the climate crisis, we must transition from a human-centred worldview to an Earth-centred one.

The session also showcased artist-led projects that weave ecological concerns with social engagement. One example was Scotland’s Deveron Projects, which has been creatively connecting people with the land for over 30 years. Initiatives like their “soil spa” and a dance project inspired by the land demonstrate art’s capacity to reconnect us with nature in meaningful ways.

This session reaffirmed my belief in art’s ability to inspire dialogue and action. By embracing ecocentric perspectives and fostering collaboration, we can address the ecological crisis holistically and inclusively.

Posted in Reflection, Research, Writing

Letters to the Moon as Social Sculpture: Reflection

Posted on by KM

In my ongoing exploration of social sculpture, Letters to the Moon stands as a testament to how art can shape social spaces through collaboration. Rooted in Joseph Beuys’ concept that everyone is an artist and society itself is a work of art, this project reflects the interconnectedness between individuals and their collective contributions.

The project is inherently collaborative. By engaging artists and the public, I aimed to dissolve barriers between “individual” and “community” artmaking. Each submission becomes part of a greater whole—like letters sent to a shared destination, carrying unique perspectives yet contributing to a collective narrative.

This process mirrors my research interest in social sculpture: how creative practice can transform not just physical objects, but relationships and shared understanding. Letters to the Moon creates a social space where people from diverse backgrounds, ages, abilities, and styles co-exist, their works forming an invisible conversation with one another.

At its core, my work often explores the complexities of communication. In Letters to the Moon, the art itself becomes a form of communication—visual “letters” that reflect feelings, thoughts, and experiences. By curating these individual voices into a unified book, I aim to highlight how creative gestures, when shared, can transcend the limits of language and hierarchy.

Social sculpture is about more than the artwork itself; it is about the relationships, processes, and transformations that occur along the way. Through Letters to the Moon, I have witnessed how this project fosters a sense of belonging, participation, and emotional resonance. It invites artists to engage in a collaborative process and, in doing so, creates an artwork that is as much about the process as the final outcome.

Photo credit: Donald Takeshita-guy
Dear Moon,

I know why you are called the Moon–because you say ‘mo’ and ‘on’. By Arwa (6 yrs old)

Posted in Reflection, Research, Writing

Letters to the Moon

Posted on by KM
Photo credit: Donald Takeshita-guy

Letters to the Moon is a social sculpture that explores how art can connect diverse experiences, emotions, and perspectives, fostering meaningful dialogue between art and the wider public.

To bring this vision to life, I invited family, friends, artists from Creative Peers, members of Ghost Art School, MA classmates, and the public. Donald kindly extended the invitation and offered people some brown paper bags to write their letters on. This act of kindness touched me and made these letters more special as they are handwritten. Each participant receives a unique moon photograph, carefully selected from a collection of 670 images I have captured since 2018.

The responses have been both inspiring and humbling. People with distinctive styles and personal voices have contributed works that reflect a broad range of emotions and narratives. A key aim of this project is to ensure that people outside the art world feel encouraged to take part, breaking down the barriers that can make creative engagement feel intimidating.

This project, while still ongoing, has already reminded me of the importance of artistic variety and community. While numbers have been promising, I hope they will continue to grow as more people see themselves reflected in this vision. I look forward to the next steps—curating these works, weaving them into a book, and creating something that speaks to the complexity of art as both a personal and collective process.

Posted in Lectures 2024/2025, Reflection, Research, Tutorials 2024/2025

Reflecting on the “Thinking Through Social Practice”  Online Workshop

Posted on by KM

Today, I attended an engaging online workshop, Thinking Through Social Practice, facilitated by David McGoven. The session offered a reflective space to explore social practice. What made the workshop especially rewarding was its small, interactive format, allowing participants to share their practices, collaborate on tasks, and develop manifestos that resonate with their creative values.

What Is Social Practice? Social practice, as discussed in the session, is rooted in the idea that art’s value extends beyond objects—it lies in relationships, conversations, and the transformations they inspire. Pablo Helguera, in Education for Socially Engaged Art, defines it as work dependent on social interaction as a key factor of its existence. Unlike traditional conceptions of the artist as a visionary or critic, social practice views the artist as a collaborator working with society in a professional capacity.

One of the workshop’s highlights was crafting personal manifestos to articulate our roles and responsibilities as socially engaged artists. Here’s my manifesto:

1. My work remains private while in progress and becomes public once complete.

2. I am the creator of the idea and responsible for its execution.

3. You, as a participant, are a valued contributor to this social work.

4. Your submission remains your intellectual property.

5. By contributing, you agree to its use in this project’s context.

6. This project prioritises collective learning and dialogue.

7. It is non-profit and exists as a form of social sculpture.

This manifesto reflects my ongoing exploration of collaboration, ownership, and the boundaries between individual and collective creativity.

The workshop reaffirmed my belief that social practice is about relationships—not just between people, but also between ideas, disciplines, and systems. As an artist, I am constantly navigating these relationships, finding ways to balance personal vision with community needs.

The Thinking Through Social Practice workshop was a powerful reminder that art is not just about creating—it’s about connecting. It’s about asking questions, challenging systems, and imagining new possibilities alongside others.

Posted in Lectures 2024/2025, Reflection, Writing

The White Pube Lecture

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This week, I attended a truly inspiring lecture by The White Pube, a collective I’ve admired for their influence in the art world, especially in championing new and emerging artists. Gabrielle de la Puente and Zarina Muhammad, who started their journey as students at Central Saint Martins, have since grown into influential voices in the contemporary art scene. Their candid and relatable approach resonates deeply, and it was fascinating to learn more about their evolution.

The collective has recently released a book titled Poor Artist, and I was intrigued by their process and approach to publishing. As someone planning to create a book for our upcoming exhibition in March 2025, their journey felt particularly relevant. Gabrielle and Zarina shared how they ventured into publishing without prior experience in creative writing or the publishing industry, relying instead on the foundation of their studio practice. This reminded me of Roy Claire Potter’s words about how creative work stems from lived experience, a sentiment that deeply connects with my own artistic practice.

A highlight for me was when Gabrielle reflected on a conversation with her tutor. She had asked, “How do I become an artist?” to which her tutor replied, “Don’t stop making art.” That phrase stayed with me—not just for its simplicity but for its broader implications. Making art isn’t confined to producing physical pieces; it extends to engaging with the art world in multiple ways: reading, writing, reflecting, and staying informed about what’s happening around us.

The lecture also highlighted how The White Pube began writing for themselves, creating a voice that spoke to two audiences at once: the critical, often inaccessible world of theory, and the everyday experience of artists. They carved out a niche by addressing what they felt was missing—a relatable, conversational space in art writing that didn’t conform to traditional academic or journalistic norms.

This approach inspires me to reflect on my own work and how I can make my practice and writing more accessible, honest, and personal. Gabrielle and Zarina’s story is a reminder that starting small, writing for yourself, and embracing your voice can lead to impactful outcomes.

As I think about the book we’ll be creating for our exhibition, their journey offers a template for how to take risks and embrace the unknown. It’s not about perfection but about authenticity and a willingness to keep going.

This lecture was not only insightful but also a reminder of the power of persistence and self-expression in art. I’m grateful for their honesty and look forward to delving into Poor Artist for more inspiration.

Posted in Motivations, Reflection, Writing

Artist or Writer?

Posted on by KM

Recently, I tuned into Artists That Write, a fascinating session hosted by We Are Axis, featuring Roy Claire Potter, Roo Dhissou, and Madinah Farhannah. Listening to them discuss their practices and read their work was both inspiring and thought-provoking. It’s always exciting to hear how other artists navigate the overlap between visual art and writing—a space I feel I occupy but have never fully claimed.

I’ve always loved writing, but I hesitate to call myself a “proper writer.” Writing feels more like another medium to me, something I play with and manipulate, much like clay or paint. I resist the constraints of inherited rules about “how” one should write, preferring instead to follow my intuition. As an artist, I’m not aiming for polished prose or perfect grammar; I’m exploring, experimenting, and communicating without borders.

Roy Claire Potter’s reflections particularly resonated with me. They spoke about being more interested in methods and how you make things rather than what you make, which aligns so closely with my own approach. Roy shared insights into a piece they created ten years ago, Mental Furniture, which involved a broken manual typewriter. I’m intrigued to read the book tied to that work and to delve deeper into their methods.

Another standout moment was when Roy talked about The Wastes—how they felt they contained a book within themselves, not one born of studying creative writing but one emerging directly from studio practice. This struck a chord with me. It affirmed the idea that writing, for some artists, is an extension of making rather than an entirely separate discipline.

Roy said something I’ll carry with me: “Text is a cultural thing. Films are text. Fashion is text. Images are text.” It reframed my understanding of writing and language, validating the idea that words are just one form of communication among many. As someone who constantly plays with meaning and form, this was a liberating thought.

For me, writing will always be a tool of exploration—an extension of my practice, unbound by conventions. I’m not a writer who writes like a writer. I’m an artist who writes like an artist.

Posted in Reflection, Visit, Writing

Finding Focus: The Wastes

Posted on by KM

Last week, I attended the book launch for The Wastes, a novella by Roy Claire Potter. Potter was joined by guest artists David Jacques, Roo Dhissou, and Harriet Morley at Dead Ink Books in Liverpool. It was a wonderful evening celebrating the work of an artist and writer whose practice profoundly influenced my own during my BA studies. I liked Roy Claire’s ability to weave humour and insight into their reflections on everyday working-class life. In The Wastes, this approach shines through as memories ripple across the narrative, creating a vivid and relatable journey for the reader.

Experiencing the book and the discussions around it gave me a renewed sense of direction for my MA in Fine Art. I’ve realised that writing and participatory art are central to my practice, and I want to explore these areas with greater intention. Roy Claire’s work reminded me how powerful text can be—not just as a medium for communication but as a way to build connections.

Moving forward, I’m determined to channel more energy into developing my writing alongside my participatory projects. This means refining my approach to storytelling and reflection while exploring ways to integrate these elements into interactive art-making. I want to experiment, learn by doing, and create a structured plan to support my growth in both areas.

Attending the book launch wasn’t just about celebrating a great piece of writing—it was a reminder of my purpose and aspirations. Writing and participatory art are more than tools in my practice; they are at the core of how I want to connect with others and create art that resonates.

Posted in Reflection

Asemic

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After an inspiring conversation with my MA coursemate, Josh Well, on asemic writing, I felt compelled to revisit a research project I undertook three years ago. This project delved into the intriguing realms of semic and asemic writing, semiotics theory, and examples of art that explore these ideas. My 2021 project, Blah Blah Blah Banner, sits within this dialogue, exploring the relationship between form and meaning in text and language. Through tutorials, workshops, and experiments with different materials, I examined how artists use text within art and the rich distinctions between semic and asemic writing.

Semiotics, the study of signs, opens up the boundless potential for experimenting with words and symbols. Art historian Anne D’Alleva reminds us that “signs can take many different forms” (D’Alleva, 2012, p.26), showing that meaning is both created and perceived. Here, semic writing refers to symbols or representations that carry meaning, while asemic writing is purely visual, existing outside formal language or communication.

The power of asemic writing lies in its ability to transcend direct interpretation. Research by Tim Gaze describes asemic writing as any form resembling writing but unreadable to viewers, often evoking primal marks like children’s scribbles or ancient cave art. My initial encounters with asemic forms reminded me of the unfamiliarity of a foreign language—an idea I explored deeply in Blah Blah Blah Banner. Here, asemic “poems” embrace visuality without linguistic meaning, inviting viewers to interpret solely through form.

From this project, I came to realise that asemic text can convey a universal sense of expression, allowing the imagination to interpret across languages and cultures. Language may ground us, but asemic writing frees us… Each brushstroke a wordless, universal rhythm.

Posted in Exhibitions, Reflection

A Reflection on Culture, Unity, and Peace

Posted on by KM

This summer, I had the opportunity to showcase Al-Mayida (The Dining Table) at Birkenhead Central Library, an installation exploring the universal and symbolic significance of the dining table. And recently, the work was selected for Hypha Studios and Dispensary Gallery’s group show in Wrexham, adding a new layer of meaning by placing it in dialogue with other multidisciplinary pieces in a 15,000-square-foot exhibition space. With its vibrant, community-centered focus, Al-Mayida became a platform for discussing culture, peace, and the shared human experience of gathering. Moving the installation from Birkenhead Library to the larger venue in Wrexham taught me to consider how an artwork’s message and impact evolve with changes in environment and scale.

The dining table holds a unique, cross-cultural significance, serving as a setting for family meals, heartfelt conversations, and shared memories. With Al-Mayida, I aimed to capture these moments by creating an immersive, interactive experience that emphasises gathering, storytelling, and unity. Drawing from a blend of artistic mediums—ceramics, textiles, and Arabic calligraphy—the installation celebrates the act of coming together, inviting audiences to reflect on what it means to share a meal, both literally and symbolically.

On the final day of Al-Mayida, I introduced a dinner set, with each item inscribed with the Arabic word for peace—سلام (Salam). “Peace,” as a concept and a word, transcends borders, symbolising our shared humanity and fostering dialogue around unity and understanding. This white ceramic set, with its minimalist design, carries a calm, contemplative energy, resonating with the installation’s message of harmony.

As a closing touch to the exhibition, I crafted three large plates inscribed with references to the Sykes-Picot Agreement, the 1916 colonial pact that divided the Middle East into spheres of influence and reshaped its geopolitical landscape. This historical reference acknowledged the dining table not only as a place for personal stories but also as a platform for global reflection. These plates became symbols of resilience, encouraging visitors to consider how history shapes our identities, our relationships, and our ongoing quest for self-determination.

The presence of these plates alongside the Salam ceramic set introduces a compelling tension—a juxtaposition between the ideals of peace and unity and the complex legacies of political history. I hope these pieces spark conversations about the ways past injustices continue to impact the present, inspiring a shared commitment to a more peaceful future.

Reflecting on Al-Mayida, I see a pathway forward that embraces community involvement, broadens cultural exploration, and deepens historical reflection. This work has laid the foundation for a practice rooted in dialogue, shared experience, and the powerful simplicity of gathering around a table.

Posted in Reflection

Failure

Posted on by KM

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