Practice-based research .12
February was so mean to me but I didn't take it personally (I did)
[I began writing and intended on publishing this in Februrary]
Since writing and posting my last entry, I had an unexpected health complication (and yes, this unfortunately came with transphobia, racism and neglect), I passed my PgCert with some helpful feedback, I secured a research-residency at Museum of the Home, and I made the decision to leave Birmingham.
It has been, spiritually, such a significant point of the year. With the Lunar moon, Chinese New Year, and Ramadan all aligning on the same date this year, I have felt such a shift, a charge, and a rush of inspiration all at once. It has been both challenging and exciting and even though I have been quite stressed, I have never been more equipped to handle this stress.
And it’s always humbling experiencing my artistic process in such a clear seasonal cycle: (a lack of making which includes a lack of inspiration, lots of observation, some dialogue, a hopeful amount of rest, some self-doubt and frustration, and then comes the budding, where I begin to think critically, read something that connects all those thoughts together, I go looking for art, I leave the house and do something with somebody else for the first time in months and then my favourite bit happens…) And even though I go through this cycle every year, I still get disheartened during the winter of my practice, the bit where nothing is being produced or shared because in this capitalist society there is such pressure to share, and the idea that, if nobody sees or engages with your art then your art is worthless or never even really exists, persists.
I find something awkwardly fragmented about writing these blogs because I begin writing it, with a specific focus in mind and then I pause, and when I come back to it, I end up venting about my week or searching my mind for a single thought that summarises this month’s unfolded research. But I am trying not to over-edit, or give too much structure to my entries because as I said in my previous blog, this space is precious because unlike that space, I am not being monitored, assessed or perceived by an academic. This entry is mostly just about how difficult I found the month of February, how much change has taken place in such a short space of time and what is exciting me in the midst of these hardships and changes.
On Tuesday, I had an interview about the ecology part of my practice. Although it was meant to be an interview and I was sent some fantastic questions, it was more of a good ol’ natter about ecology and being from the Midlands (and the north). We were impassioned by our shared values, tickled by the coping mechanisms we often need to get by and excited by the prospect of working together more. Evie has a gentle energy; they are pleasant yet powerful. Their work has an impact that feels ironically as vast as the peak districts in which they call home. I won’t write too much more about our conversation because it will be written and shared by Evie at a later date but what I want to put here in this space, is something Evie showed me regarding roles we might play in terms of community and justice work. The image above is a glimpse into the larger document, highlighting the possible roles that resonate with us as workers and advocates for organic community. This image got me thinking in more depth about my role in society and how my pentecostal background primed me for this categorising of the self (in my church, it was crucial that we yearned for unpaid labor because it would ‘fortify the kingdom of God’). As an autistic child, I quite enjoyed this process of box ticking and quiz-like paperwork. I liked the idea that I could simply find out who I was by completing a form, since I struggled with identity and reflexivity. But the truth for me is less fixed, it is, like everything in life, about change, about transness. As the great Octavia Butler says:
“All that you touch
You Change.
All that you Change
Changes you.
The only lasting truth
is Change.
God
is Change.”
So even within roles and job titles, which I usually enjoy and see the need for, I recognise that they will change as I change, that as I transition, so will my role in society. I am resisting the urge to describe it as a ‘calling’ since there is so many icky individualistic and hierarchical connotations that are attached to this term.
This has taken me much longer to complete than I would have liked so I will end it here. Hopefully the next entry will arrive on time and be a little more pointed in terms of practice and research.
My name is Exodus, many of my loved ones call me Exo for short. Exo has become a personal vow to love and hold myself and others, so with hugs and kisses, I thank you for reading. xoxoxo
Oh, and while you are here, please donate what you can to my top surgery Gofundme organised by my wonderful partner. :-)