Posted in 2025-2026, Lectures 2025-2026, Reflection, Research, Writing

1–1 Tutorial 6th October 2025

On Monday, I joined the open 1–1 tutorial with Jonathan. I really needed that conversation, my thoughts were fighting inside my head, and sometimes talking is the best way to organise them.

We discussed many different things. Jonathan has a great way of asking the kind of questions I should be asking myself. I feel that if I had one good question every day, I’d probably write on my blog much more often.

We talked about The Right Map exhibition series and my experiences, how much I learned from working with different people, and how I feel about working with different groups: one more formal and structured, and the other relaxed and informal. Although I’m an organised person who likes to plan ahead, I found that I have the ability to be adaptable and ready to work in fast-paced situations, finding solutions in the moment. It was a challenge, but it also increased my confidence.

I know people have different styles of thinking and working, and as long as we trust each other’s intentions and skills, things go smoothly. We can fill each other’s gaps, and I was definitely learning so much from our team.

For me, the goal of The Right Map was to create a free and welcoming space where everyone could learn and grow together. That’s what makes a social sculpture, and that’s the goal of making this kind of art.

We also talked about the CBS show Sculpture (see my previous post), which reminded me that I should share the short text I wrote for it, along with the 50-word bio I submitted, and the one I received written by artist Cos Ahmet, which my sculpture responded to.

Here are the two secret bios:

Cos Ahmet:

Tropes corporeal fragmented, human, other. Limbs without a host, the skin of things physical, digital. Choreographic. The material’s immaterial states between liminal space on the threshold of self, other. Dust.

Me:

A child took up her pen, signing walls with her name. We’ll play socially… I’ll sculpt the riddle. Language won’t matter; wisdom gathered on page 104–105. Forgive the broken clock!

Another part of our discussion was about Social Publishing, a lecture by Allegra Baggio Corradi that I listened to after the printing meeting with Alex Schady. Jonathan had attended that session too, so it was wonderful to exchange thoughts and notes with someone who was there. We both agreed how inspiring it was. I realised how much it connected with my ongoing project Writing Letters to the Moon.

Learning about Social Publishing, even just understanding its definition, helped me see what I’ve been doing from a new perspective. I’ve always thought of my book as a sculpture, its process far removed from traditional publishing. I don’t see myself as an author but as an artist, still figuring out what that means!!

These days it’s hard not to wonder are artists becoming celebrities, activists, or something in between? Genuine voices, attention-seekers or good actors? There’s definitely more to write about this.. I feel like I’ve gathered so much new information, yet the more I learn, the more I realise how far I am from finding the right answers.. And the higher I try to rise, the lighter I have to become, learning to let go of things and sometimes people along the way.. 

Posted in 2024/2025, Assignments, Reflection

Unit 1 Assessment

Learning Outcome 1:
Formulate, describe and implement a challenging and self-directed programme of study, relating to your Study Statement. (Assessment Criteria: Enquiry):

My work explores topics of communication, connection, and collective experience through projects such as Al-Mayida, Letters to the Moon, asemic writing, and childlike drawings. Each project looks at how art fosters debate, narrative, and inclusivity. Interviews with Pedro Reyes about social sculpture, White Pube’s new book, and Axis’ Artists That Write have all inspired me. Furthermore, the Art for the Earth’s Sake initiative stressed the importance of adopting an ecocentric perspective to social practice. All of these influences have shaped my self-directed method, in which I investigate and learn from literature and artists, as well as my own artworks.

Learning Outcome 2:
Implement appropriate working methods for building an independent and effective self-organisation that enables the critical engagement with practice-based research.
(Assessment Criteria: Process):

In projects such as Al-Mayida, I experiment with diverse curatorial approaches, but in Letters to the Moon, I prioritise participant interaction. My process-driven approach accepts ambiguity and improvisation, which is consistent with Jonathan’s reflection in action research. The final session of Art for Earth’s Sake was especially powerful, as we discussed how artists can practise sustainability, set a good example, and utilise art as a tool for social and environmental change. 

Learning Outcome 3:
Communicate a critical understanding of your developing practice.
(Assessment Criteria: Knowledge, Communication):

My work is a type of social sculpture, an ever-changing discussion that connects personal and collective experiences. Projects such as Al-Mayida focus on unity and history, whereas Letters to the Moon promotes communication and community involvement. My efforts with asemic writing and childlike drawing disrupt art’s traditional hierarchies, emphasising authenticity and accessibility.

At last, I want to utilise art to promote social interactions and spark meaningful discourse about sociopolitical and environmental challenges. Through documentation, reflections, short courses, and visits, I hope to create work that promotes connection, dialogue, and communal action.

Feedback requests:

I would appreciate feedback on two experiments I’m currently working on: Asemic writing with translation and childlike drawings. Both approaches are new and quite different from one another.

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

Reflections on Professionalism and Unprofessionalism

I missed the last lecture on professionalism and unprofessionalism due to family circumstances. Ironically, missing out on topics that interest me most. But watching the recording was still a rich experience, listening to the discussions and the different perspectives people brought to the conversation. 

I read the article How to Be an Unprofessional Artist by Andrew Berardini, which Jonathan shared in the lecture. And, I think the word “unprofessional” carries a certain weight, often with negative connotations. It reminds me of how the word “steal” is used provocatively in Steal Like An Artist by Austin Kleon, or how “disabled” can be perceived in different ways, negative for some, yet embraced by others as a form of identity and empowerment. Language is powerful; it doesn’t just describe the world, it shapes it. It influences how we see ourselves, how others perceive us, and what opportunities are available to us.

A key point in the discussion was how professionalism is often framed by rigid, exclusionary standards, ones that can erase individuality, lived experience, or even care. But does professionalism have to mean conforming to a narrow, predetermined image? Many so-called unprofessional traits: honesty, vulnerability, and unconventional approaches are actually strengths. They challenge existing systems, create space for new ways of thinking, and foster deeper engagement.

The tension between professional and unprofessional seems to lie in whether professionalism is dictated by external standards or defined through integrity, care, and dedication to one’s practice. If professionalism means respect for oneself, for others, and for the work, then it doesn’t have to mean suppressing individuality or creativity. I see professionalism not as following a strict rulebook, but as a commitment to craft, ethics, and meaningful engagement.

As a mother of a child with special needs, I’m particularly aware of how language shapes perception. In different contexts, the term “disabled” can be either empowering or limiting. Could “unprofessional” also be reclaimed? Maybe, but only if doing so truly empowers rather than undermines.

My own art practice naturally resists traditional notions of professionalism. Coming from multiple backgrounds, embracing mistakes, and working in multidisciplinary ways, I see value in experimentation and non-traditional approaches. Rejecting conventional professionalism doesn’t mean rejecting care, commitment, or quality. It means refusing to be boxed into a system that wasn’t designed for people with diverse experiences and ways of working. Above all, rejecting traditional professionalism can be an act of resistance, challenging exclusionary structures that dictate who belongs and what is deemed acceptable work.

I navigate between institutional and freelance work, moving fluidly between structured and independent spaces. Working with institutions while maintaining my own perspective allows me to challenge the system from within while also creating alternative ways of working. It’s about understanding the rules but choosing when and how to break them in ways that are meaningful.

This ability to shift between spaces sometimes fitting in, sometimes disrupting gives me agency. It also allows me to act as a bridge for others who feel like they don’t fit into traditional structures. This is something I see in my work, whether through Moon Letters, Creative Peers, or other social sculpture projects.

Rather than seeing professionalism and unprofessionalism as rigid opposites, I see them as fluid. True professionalism, to me, is about care, respect, and meaningful engagement, qualities that don’t require conforming to outdated norms, but rather, reimagining them.

Somewhere in Oxford…

Posted in 2024/2025, Motivations, Project, Reflection, Research

Final Session: Art for the Earth’s Sake

Our last session of Art for Earth’s Sake Peer Learning, was a powerful experience exploring the intersection of creativity, sustainability, and community action.

Key Highlights:

1- Leading by Example: We discussed how artists can practise sustainably, acting as role models for others by reducing their carbon footprint and promoting eco-friendly approaches. This includes minimising the use of fossil fuels and exploring innovative tools such as digital carbon offset initiatives like Ecology.

2- Art as a Vehicle for Transition: Art has the power to shape people’s decisions and inspire social and environmental change. We explored how slow, mindful processes can create space for reflection and dialogue about the future we want to build.

3- The Role of Heart and Mind: It’s not just about being an artist but about raising awareness and fostering learning. We emphasised the importance of balancing rational thinking with heartfelt creativity to address environmental.

We took inspiration from artists such as Rebecca Chesney and Anthony Hall, and projects like the Soil Exhibition in Somerset. Additionally, ideas from thinkers like Stephen Covey’s “Three Spheres of Influence” helped us focus on what we can control, what we can influence, and what we need to let go of as individuals and as a collective.

We are encouraged to continue organising events, engaging the community, and taking part in initiatives like the Engage. By working together, we can use art as a catalyst for positive change in the world.

Stephen Covey’s concept of the Three Spheres of Influence is a framework that helps individuals focus their energy on what they can truly affect. This idea is derived from his book, The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. The three spheres, also known as the Circles of Concern, Influence, and Control, are a way to prioritise actions and efforts effectively. The Three Spheres Explained:

1. Circle of Concern:

This represents everything you care about, including external issues such as climate change, world events, and things you have no direct control over. While it’s important to be aware of these issues, focusing too much energy here can lead to feelings of helplessness.

2. Circle of Influence:

This sphere includes aspects you can influence, such as your local community, workplace, and people around you. By focusing efforts here, you can make a meaningful impact even if you can’t solve global issues. This is where actions like raising awareness, inspiring others, and leading by example can make a difference.

3. Circle of Control:

This is the smallest sphere, encompassing only what you can directly control, your own actions, decisions, mindset, and responses. By focusing on this sphere, you ensure that your efforts are grounded in what you can actually change.

By prioritising your focus on the Circle of Control and the Circle of Influence rather than the Circle of Concern, you can channel your energy more productively, avoid burnout, and create more positive impact. This approach is particularly valuable in projects related to sustainability and social change, where large-scale problems can feel overwhelming.

In the context of “Art for Earth’s Sake” understanding these spheres can help artists and activists focus on what they can do, such as creating art that inspires action, practising sustainability in their own work, and building local community initiatives that promote change.

Posted in Lectures 2024/2025, Reflection, Research

Reflecting on Jonathan’s Lecture: A Messy Introduction to Practice-Based Research Methodologies for Artists

Watching Jonathan’s lecture A Messy Introduction for the second time was a completely different experience from the first. Three months ago, it felt like a relief—as though I had finally been given permission to embrace the uncertainty and messiness of my practice. I realised that nothing was wrong with how I work or feel about the creative process. Rather than viewing my approach as chaotic or unfocused, I began to see it as a form of action research—a way of learning embedded in the act of doing!

I returned to this lecture with a question that arose after last week session How to Be an Explorer: How is my practice guiding me, rather than me controlling it? Watching the lecture again allowed me to refine my thinking and embrace my process as an ongoing cycle of reflection and experimentation.

I learnt that action research isn’t about gathering knowledge and then applying it in a controlled way. Instead, it’s about researching through practice, learning as you go, and allowing discoveries to emerge through action.

The lecture reminded me of how I’ve found my most valuable insights through interaction—whether with people, materials, or space. For example, I realised that my time spent working and engaging with people in the library was far more effective than simply sitting and reading. That moment of recognition was, in itself, action research.

Jonathan introduces four key characteristics of action research:

1. Cyclical: The process is not linear; it loops back on itself, following a rhythm of planning, acting, observing, and reflecting.

2. Collaborative: Research is not done in isolation; it involves engaging with people and/or materials.

3. Qualitative: Not quantitative.

4. Reflective: The practitioner is constantly questioning, not just the work, but their own position within it.

The idea that research is cyclical resonated with me deeply. I often feel like I’m going in circles—revisiting ideas, reworking concepts, and questioning everything. But what if this isn’t a flaw, but rather the natural rhythm of research? Instead of seeing it as going backwards, I now view it as deepening my understanding.

This brings to mind the concept of social sculpture, which, like action research, does not aim for fixed outcomes. It is a living process, shaped by dialogue, participation, and continuous enquiry.

My socially engaged work as a creative producer at The Library is an example of how action research operates in real-world settings. Rather than following a rigid structure, my approach is fluid and responsive.

For instance, I’ve observed that:

• Engaging with people in the library is more valuable than just reading there.

• Learning happens through doing, not just planning.

• Reflection is not just a retrospective process, it happens in real-time.

This aligns with Jonathan’s reflection-in-action model, where the practitioner allows uncertainty and improvisation to guide their decisions. My sessions at the library are not about delivering a pre-determined programme; they are about co-creating an experience with the participants, allowing the outcomes to emerge organically.

One of the slides in the lecture included a quote by Martin A. Schwartz:

“The more comfortable we become with being stupid, the deeper we will wade into the unknown and the more likely we are to make big discoveries.”

This really stuck with me. In artistic practice, there’s often pressure to have everything figured out, to justify every decision, and to present a polished narrative. But this quote suggests that true discovery happens when we allow ourselves to feel lost and unsure.

This resonates with my experience as a member of Ghost Art School, where I always allow myself to experiment with materials freely, without the fear of losing anything or being judged. Most of the work I present at Ghost Art School exhibitions is experimental and joyful.

Instead of feeling like I have to map everything out in advance, I am learning to trust that my research is unfolding in its own way. This lecture reinforced the idea that my artistic process isn’t about arriving at answers, but about learning how to ask better questions.

Kinetic sculpture, I Made This Pet 2024 for Auchingarrich Wildlife Park Exhibition by Ghost Art School. https://www.instagram.com/p/C_x9yZsIEin/?igsh=MXdibGR2enJtMTk2Mw==

Posted in Reflection, Research

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

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

Reflecting on the “Thinking Through Social Practice”  Online Workshop

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

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.