Somethings Take Time To See

It was around the end of 2011 when my super good friend, and great artist & writer, Paul Harrison and I got together in a Cafe Nero in Doncaster (The only place to get a decent chai-tea latte in the area at the time… maybe it still is) and we talked about how we thought new media art and ‘socially engaged’ art were crucial tools to help enable critical thinking— and therefore —- more openness.  Perhaps it could help enhance a more epistemic justice. Because gosh knows there needed to be. It was a crucial time. The Tories had just gotten into power the year before and their cutting of projects, programs, funding, closing libraries and youth centres and the trippling of universities fees was happening right in front of our eyes. Lots of protests, lots of petitions to sign in the beginning. It felt important to try and provide a place where people could connect – learn – listen – without needing much more than 10 mins. But give it light, give it time, give people a space, and elevate it.

We were sick of the insular systems surrounding the artworld (& outside in a lot of institutions) – who gets to speak and from where? Who always gets a big chunk of the opportunities and the dialogue? What kinds of voices are not as-well-acknowledged and represented as they should be? We also wanted to share people’s passions- unedited. it didn’t need to be a flow funny or deep narrative that’s curated like TED talks are (which they are). it can – and should – just be words that needed to be said. No scripts. Not really a time limit (tho for our art making needed to be around 10 mins & also increase the likilhood someone would have time to listen)

We talked at ends and decided that our individual practices might not be the vehicle for it. So that’s where we decided to create F/o/r/c/e– which stands for Free. Online. Radically. Collected. Education.

The mission: A force for good! In Italian forza means strength. To give voice across to anyone, to give strength – especially to those who don’t usually get to. And we’d create art/videos that would go with these stories/ideas/thoughts/journeys/whatever the person wanted to talk about.

We created it, together. Website, got people to provide us with their loves. wrote a manifesto. found things we thought was F/O/R/C/E-y – and then after our first video I got super sick where fatigue & pain over took my life & it lasted fucking ages, so Paul did a lot of the brunt of the work.

Time went by and then I decided that this experience and the experiences I had gained – was to be in healthcare to deal with the episetmic injustices there but also be one of the people who provide deep listening and empathy with compassion of a persons experience with illness and this treatment pathway.  I went to study radiotherapy & Paul went to Tokyo to work. We had a conversation maybe 2 years ago? Maybe it was a year ago. We weren’t sure whether we should close this project that had only just felt like it had begun, and be able to maybe do something else. I wasn’t too sure myself. Part guilt, probably from not pulling my weight as much as I would have liked back in 2012 and in 2014/5. I said, let’s leave it open. Not sure the action of closing is the right way. We did default on our website domain website payments tho. So now we lost an archive of material somewhere in the web.

And F/O/R/C/E has sat here. With cool videos on our vimeo page https://vimeo.com/user15467645 – a twitter page full of incredible links – archived stuck in a set of time https://twitter.com/FORCElectures (not sure i’ll be able to re-open this account as our email is long dead).

But I realize under this year’s events – in particular (though we did start it in the upheaval of austerity Britain) – we need something like F/O/R/C/E more than ever. We need spaces away from the oppressive & recessive histories and structures that crush voices, that tell people that their thing or stories are that that ones no one wants to hear about.

We need Spaces to document these turbulent times – whether its a pandemic or a call for equity and epistemic justice.  We want to make art with a persons talk – to show that it deserves attention.

The core of most of our problems in society today, whether its care experiences in healthcare, or Brexit, or racism, or kids not paying attention in school, etc – is that people want to feel like they’re being lustened to – and feel valued. that they have your attention. So many of us feel unheard and it’s a harm. These harms come in many forms – either hermunatically or testimonially  (predominately) – and if we keep on ignoring the and changing the structures that keep alowing such harms than i feel like it will continue to get worse.

and I think F/O/R/C/E is one of those many spaces here, and to come, to help house and store and share and platform this stuff / these experiences. It reminds me a lot of how we’re taught these days, and how systems and money is used, that everything needs to be spent by the next finacial year – that courses need to be complete in x amount of months. We give up when we don’t see results after so long. We might be forgetting the joy and the revelations in the long game – and this reminds me that we can not rush things – especially when they involve listening. For listening and really hearing are timeless.

So it’s now my turn to carry most of our next engagements/work forward. I’m going to recollect all our bits together – and the content will likely be slow and steady – but that’s because deep listening takes time. I hope you’ll follow along.

I’ll leave you with Paul Harrison excellent essay post about it from 2014 on the excellent Aesthetics of Protest site:  http://aestheticsofprotest.org/force-lectures/

And I hope you’ll give our Facebook page a like if you haven’t already F/o/r/c/e

Here’s some videos we made for peoples stories/ideas/journey/thoughts/experiences

Ashley Holmes, ‘Nothing To Lose’ F/O/R/C/E from F/O/R/C/E Lectures on Vimeo.

Yvonne Yang Guang – ‘The Stingy Artist’ -F/O/R/C/E from F/O/R/C/E Lectures on Vimeo.

 

More videos here: https://vimeo.com/user15467645

(photos from my wordpress archive in  2011, ha!)

week 1 self isolation down: unhomelikeness

You’re not a human doing, you’re a human being.

I’ve been following the progress of C-19 for a long time. Since around Jan 20th. I was in Japan, walking through a market in Tokyo & my American friend was messaging me how I might get quarantined on my way home. LOL I said to Hayley showing her the messages. “Americans, they’re so OTT. If it was a big thing, we’d have seen/heard it whilst here wouldn’t we?”

So we left Japan, & we weren’t checked out nor quarantined. Nothing was different. But I wish we had been. All of us coming home from Asia, 2 weeks at home & anyone we’d have contact with also kept at home. To keep it in check. Instead, here we are. On lockdown of sorts. Cinemas, cafes, pubs, restaurants, universities, and schools closed. Now, I believe this is the best thing and should have happened about a week ago given the rate of deaths we’re at (177 at the time of writing) and infection numbers of only testing hospitalized patients.

I’ve been self-isolating since last Thursday. Since before the government announcement of attempting to work from home if possible on Tuesday. I’ve been watching other countries and I know where this is going. I’m a person who is at risk. I have super bad asthma, and a bunch of other long-standing issues – that’s well documented on the pages here. So it’s been a week of only walking the dogs alone outside. Everything else in my bedroom and on Skype.

Now I’ve been working from home most of my adult freelance life. At least 2 days a week. So I should be used to it. But I will level with y’all, I have found this week really, really hard. By Wednesday I wondered why I was struggling given the fact that this was my normal activity last year.

The girl who lost most of 2012 and beginning of 2013 to insane fatigue and pain and spent around 8 months laid in bed most of the time, & when she wasn’t would just dream of being back in the bed – is now feeling trapped and uncomfortable in the same space.

I usually love working from home. No horrible Northern Rail commute, the money I save, a relaxed ease into the day. But this week? I can’t concentrate. I feel restless.  Every day I have to reassure my nan that if she takes the precautions necessary, she should be ok. And then I go back to my laptop and I stare down twitter with it’s 9 in 10 tweets about c-19. endless scrolling.

Tonight, whilst re-reading some texts for my PHD, i realized why I feel so uncomfortable being self-isolated.

It reminds me of being sick. And I am struck by the comparisons of the life people with chronic health conditions, disabilities and complex lives live every day.

I am not sick (not in the Corona way anyways) At the time of writing – i’ve been feeling the best i’ve felt in many many years recently. But I realize this lock-down, isolated life mirrors illness/injury in the same way that it affects our ability to be in the world.

Without real life interaction, even if it’s just me writing a bunch of bullshit on my laptop in Starbucks surrounded by strangers, it still feels like BEING in the world. I need some rhythm and rime, the beat of the street, i kinda need that Northern Rail community feeling to feel grounded. It gives my work the context it needs to feel tangible and real, otherwise — they’re just words on a page, drawings of things. Heidegger writes about this well in Being in Time. For him it makes no sense to abstract a paintbrush from the lifeworld of the human being in order to show that it’s mere an object made of molecules. The brush ceases to exist as brush if there is no human-being to use it.

 In other words, meaning and interpretation of our everyday ways of being in the world – underline and anker who we think we are and what we do.

Today we had a Skype with our newish Lab4Living Professor, Peter Llyod Jones, talking through his amazing catalog of varied work, underpinned by his scientific background but his understanding and need of combing art & design & all the other creative fields such as architecture and fashion to bring about the best most holistic and important/innovative works. He asked, “What does it mean to combine both science and art/design together and be a collaborator of both?”

The answer, of course, is simple: Science can in many ways explain *what* we are, but it cannot explain *who* we are and *why* we are.  We recognise beauty when we see it, we know when we feel pain and experience betrayal or joy. We don’t need technical explanations of these things in order to understand them or believe they exist.

The ubiquity of science’s usual calculative thinking can help give us a sense of freedom, and power of a ‘neutrality’ and it’s a sense of Truth. Presenting itself as the best, most sound, way of understanding ourselves and the world (it doesn’t).  So in theory, me being at home – hoping not to catch (or have previous caught & yet to get symptoms) c-19 – should give me a sense of agency in this. But bringing it back to that mirroring of chronic illness life, it does not.

When I was properly, pretty bed-bound sick – i learned fast what tending to the biological body does in medicine, it obscures what it means to *live* in that body, and what it *feels* like to be ill or injured, what it is like to experience the world differently – as ones embodiment shifts and changes.

As Jeffrey Bishop noted, Human life can not be reduced to mere functionality, without doing violence to the other features of being-in-the-world.  When you take away these contexts, or the ability to interact with it – it is a harm, a different kind of suffering.

We take for granted our interrelation of being-in-the-world, and when it beings to breakdown  – we feel like we’re falling out of our normal life. our of the world.

Whilst C-19 rages on, I made well aware of my “unstable body” – this self-isolation for longer, more necessity,  is just another sudden intrusion of the body into the everyday experiences. I’ve tried to explain in many different posts on this blog over the years about what it’s like to live in a body that keeps on changing? it can be frightening, sometimes even terrifying and always confusing. it generates this wild attention to your body that you never had before you was sick. One becomes a prisoner to any perceptible change — a cough, a lump, a pain. Predictability ends. You just grieve about the loss of it, allll of the time. Get forced to admit “new normals” when you just want the old normal.

C-19 is an equalizer in that it is forcing us to look and feel at our bodies and disruption of being in the world in the same way that illness & injury & other events do to others.

We have fallen out of the world, and most of  you have now joined me in what Susan sONTAG FAMOUSLY CALLED “THE Kingdom of the sick”.  But a lot of you aren’t sick.  you have to live a version of the sick kingdom life in order to either not kill other vulnerable people or not get sick yourself. Your way to project yourself into the world is disrupted.

And that’s what I am feeling. This wild uncomfortableness. Or kind of not belonging. An – what Heidegger called an “unhomelike being-in-the-world”. – the way we understand the world into which we know is thrown out.  Our world is no longer homelike, relatively stable. because illness (c-19 processeS) has disturbed our meaning making processes – it’s not just our body but the way in which we gain our being from/.

Having experienced serious illness – it leaves no part of your life untouched. Your relationships, your work, your sense of who you are and who you want to become, your future, your sense of life – and all these things change and it’s terrifying.

This creates a suffering.  The complex and profound suffering that is basic to the human condition – whether physical, mental, emotional, spiritual or otherwise – so something very few of us are willing to confront… fully.  It’s 1 of the reason why a lot of people have difficulty acknowledging friends are super sick, or people who are disabled continue to suffer great inequalities and injustices – because people can’t face their disruption because it means facing that it could also be them.  most of us would prefer not to dwell on the unpredictability of illness and death or the vulnerability of the human mind and body.

I feel like those who continue to keep going out, drinking in pubs having mass gatherings etc are turning away because they can’t deal with the idea of the suffering. They also don’t want to give up, momentarily, this ‘freedom’ that helps to give their world meaning and being. They also don’t want to experience what it’s like for so many people who are housebound due to social isolation, illness, and beyond.

And for me, here I am. In my bedroom. Not feeling real, not in the world. As noted many years ago, & multiple times on this blog – I have felt like I’m not going to make it to 35 (it was 30, but I got there). This feeling has been with me way before I got sick. Like with my poor background, it’s just a given. Now I am feeling it more than ever.  But with the long sickness, and now this – I have finally realized why the idea of dying without leaving a mark really bothers me. And why c-19 really frightens people.

When we can no longer project ourselves into our futures, we come face-to-face with ourselves – that our connection with the world is finite. What we’re really afraid of – is not so much the biological malfunctioning (tho that is scary) but the possibility of no longer to be able to *be* at all.

This kind of living takes away the privledges and luxuries of being to project secure and idealistic futures. It reveals the precariousness of our existences.

When I was so sick and couldn’t leave the house, it was fine because I had 0 energy. Now I’m finally getting my life back to a small part of what it was – and i’ve been thrown back into the life that sooooo many people have to live in, day-in & day-out. Without the imminent threat of C-19.

I see myself as an empathetic person, and i thought I had understood what it means to not be able to do stuff due to illness, to have your world broken and your place within questioned. But I finally think I get why it’s *so* dangerous for the elderly and the most vulnerable – who are relatively  bodily healthy – to be isolated and lonely from people, community, connection and activity. Because it breaks their being-in-the-world, it makes it difficult to ground yourself, and it feels very much unhomelikeness, within your own home.

I hope when we get to the end of this moment, that we will all reconsider how people are living and bring news way into helping connect people whose lives are already c-19 lockdown like.

ETfEKsaXkAo6TSn

 

 

A New Way. Can You Help Some People Who Mean Alot To The World, and To Me?

Throughout our lives, we will come to find ourselves in a lot of different places.

A lot of different rooms.
A lot of different corners.
A lot of different wheres.

Those wheres will be unexpected. They will surprise us, scare us, change everything, change nothing, and break our hearts.

I’ve found myself in some pretty amazing wheres, and some pretty devastating places. But one of the constants was having the opportunity to be part of Postmasters Gallery, and to continue to feel like I am part of their huge art family.

And that’s why I am asking you to be a Patron and help support them to keep making the artworld more radical, more daring and the world a better place to be – for us all. 

Furthermore, outside of art, The Postmasters Family helped save my life… and helped me get back onto the path of trying to live my life.  See Postmasters aren’t just a normal gallery. They’re everything and more. They’re community, they’re bravery, they’re hope, they’re protest, they’re US.

Let me tell you how, and just how their Patron rewards will LITERALLY MAKE A DIFFERENCE to YOU if you invest.

In 2008, I got to chance of a lifetime. I had decided the previous summer (2007), whilst working with steadfast ambitious & economically supported college-aged Americans, that I needed to catch up with my life and career ambitions. And my career ambitions was to be an artist and to live and work in NYC. Preferably in a gallery. This was no small-feat for an under confident, working class kid from Doncaster, UK (DONX!).

I worked at a bookies and at a toy-shop part-time during term-time,  whilst praying to the art gods that I’d get my artworld NYC summer. I did anything to make sure I could afford to go.

I remember exactly where I was when Magda of Postmasters Gallery said she’d meet me in person with the chance of getting to be Postmasters’ intern the summer of 2008. I was sat with my friend James Cotton in the Graphic Design-Apple suite at the old art campus. It was a super sunny day for the winter and the sun was blinding through the large windows. I just-re-read that same email, over & over again. I still have it archived even though I no longer have that email address (at hotmail.com?!).

I remember being incredibly nervous. I think I was practically mute for the first 2 weeks of being at Postmasters. But I learned so much.

I learnt around 26 years of Postmasters Show history, and art history in the making, as I was set to digitalizing their whole archive. Endless slides to be scanned, and amazing write-ups of artists in ArtForum, NYT, Art In America, et al – of still practicing, artists who have since disappeared, but a theme emerged.

These shows were often groundbreaking, urgent, courageous, some genuinely funny, ahead of the curves. New Media Art shows before new media art was accepted as it is today (though we still have ways to go with this medium). Women artists equally represented, and mostly – it still felt contemporary, and alive and represented the values that Magda and Tamas have sought to bring to the artworld their whole life.

I also learnt how to send invoices via fax (though still not into faxing), I met some of the coolest artists who continue to inspire my practice today, about art museums collections & how they buy art for them, at one point – I was left manning the whole establishment for a week?! and I learnt loads from Magda and Paulina’s experiences and ideas.

I was properly schooled that summer I was at Postmasters. I remember leaving after my last shift and I walked down to 9th Ave, and had to search for a working pay-phone to call my mom because I felt so sad I was leaving this amazing thing I had sort of been apart of for a short time.  I left that summer with my heart heavy but inspired.

I got back to the U.K. and art school felt kind of boring after that experience. I had to do something. Magda taught me that literally, anything is possible, even starting from scratch, along as you have perseverance, some people and community who can support you.

So my friends and I started our own lil’ artspace called CAKE (rebranded CAKE Everyone). We were a small space above a bar on West Street, Sheffield, UK. We lasted around 2 years and we learnt loads and had so much fun. But the thing is, I took everything I had learnt from Magda & Postmasters, and I put it into action in Sheffield – and invested it back into our local community.

I am still employing these lessons from this time into my life and practice.

Now, it would be easy to say – I became, like, an awesome artist, or got lots of gallery jobs… but because i’m not very smart or that talented, that didn’t really happen (and that’s ok!). But the year after I graduated was HARD. I nearly lost my own belief. But Magda offered hope and advise on the end of emails. That really helped me push through what I thought was a dark time…

Then things started to work out… I got a residency at SITE Gallery, I was working freelance as an illustrator, doing some university lecturing… I came over to work a summer in Boston/New Hampshire in the U.S.A.  but I had been feeling poorly for a good few months before I went… tired beyond belief, coughing up blood, endless nosebleeds, bone-pain, flu-like symptoms, drenching nightsweats.

And on the 21st August, everything changed. I found myself sitting in front an oncologist at General Mass Hospital. With my YMCA boss, 3,000 miles away from home. The doctor cleared his throat a few times and told me it looked like Lymphoma… Cancer. He told me, if it was time-sensitive and I didn’t get it sorted then I would die.

Well. As you can imagine, that wasn’t the news that I was expecting. I didn’t tell my mom for weeks (I was only 24). I felt ashamed, I don’t even know why. I thought it couldn’t be true. I googled the odds every-single-day. My boss kept telling me I needed to go home. The only person who I decided to tell who I didn’t work with — was Magda.

Because Magda was a person I knew I could trust, and always has a no bullshit take on everything but has an aabundance of empathy too.

After a crazy 32 U.S.A. state roadtrip (yolo!) Magda & Tamas put me up at their place, Magda cooked me an amazing breakfast before I left the USA for unknowns at home, not knowing whether I’d make it back again.

But the story is more complicated.

Magda nearly saw me go under. A few times.

I just had no energy. I laid in bed. Feeling sorry for myself. I was in pain. I was really sick. I couldn’t even watch Netflix. But Magda & Paulina would send reassuring tweets and emails and I slowly kept it together.

I worked harder at building my art-practice than on anything in my life, though it never felt like work. I devoted myself to it, though it never felt like sacrifice.  I am also endlessly grateful. Those years gifted me experiences, skills, lessons, and friendships. I would not be me without them.

Many forget that it’s a rare privilege to find something you care about so deeply and be able to make it your life.

I had struggled to get back, but my heart wasn’t in it in the same way.  I simply craved a new challenge. It didn’t matter why — I couldn’t lead  my life in the same way, and I had promised myself that I wouldn’t be caught without a plan if something happened to me again.

I realized I couldn’t have my old life back, but I also didn’t want it anymore.

So I decided to go into healthcare… radiotherapy & oncology! Of all things. But I’d kept all this secret from most people. It was furtive, shadowy work, and the secrets made my stomach ache.

 

But I reached out to M, and I hoped that she would still think I was an okay person.

The wild thing is, Magda still helped me through emails – giving me incredible advise and inspiration for my healthcare practice. To the point that I realized that I was still a fucking artist. I had got lost, but she never stopped helping me find the tracks back. I’m now doing my PhD combining all of my double agent status’ together. Just insane.

But here’s the thing about the Postmasters Fam., is that they don’t let you down.

Magda once said to me that we get dealt the cards that we get dealt, but we play them like they’re fucking Aces.  She has taught me that experience is subjective. We get to decide what’s devastating, what’s beautiful, and what we do next. In the books of our lives, we are both protagonist and narrator. And narrators have incredible power.

In writing this, I thought a lot about the places that shape us, and how, in turn, we shape those places in our minds. Postmasters have really shaped my life, in so many ways.

As human beings living on earth right now, we find ourselves in a very particular where.  The art-world mostly sucks, because it works for the 1%, lets not even talk about politics.

But this is something we can all help, maintain, and be a part of. Help sustain the legacy, help to make the future, help to secure a better history. Look down at your feet and decide what that means.

Instead of being afraid, I’m going to try to be brave. Instead of feeling regret, I’m going to focus on getting better tomorrow, and instead of hoping that someone else will say it or move it or mean it, I’m going to do it myself.

Postmasters has been there for us (in ways you might not even know yet!) so lets me THERE FOR THEM!

And as I’ve just shown you, the $100 or $500 a month reward will LITERALLY CHANGE YOUR LIFE. I can’t stress enough how much its worth it.

Let’s make art, and friends, and purpose, and be good to each other. And please spread the word!

If you got this far – Thanks!

pm2

Launching A Radiotherapy Story

RADIOTHERAPYSTORYlogoOriginal

About a year ago, I saw a really cool website from Canada about the Faces of Healthcare.

And I thought, wouldn’t it be cool to have something like this for radiotherapy, and the surrounding services (which is essentially pretty much EVERYTHING in the NHS). Oncology is very much one of the most inter-disciplinary areas within healthcare, ever. From dietitians, counsellors, all different types of doctors, dementia care, mental health, social workers, GPs, ambulance drivers, nurses, students, volunteers, etc — it’s endless! Trying to seamlessly work together to provide the best patient care and experience.

It is for this exact reason why I believe we should celebrate our profession and our patients and their carers and loved ones, and for every single person who is involved within the NHS. Because without them, we’d be a bit lost.

The receptionists who make sure patients get to see the people they need to see. The porters who take the patients to Boots and reading every single sandwich ingredients to the patient. To the volunteers who run Bridge Clinic, and provide unlimited biscuits. To the student who helps someone on and off the toilet… it’s literally endless.

So many people don’t know about radiotherapy. So many patients find the process quite anxiety enhancing due to the lack of personable, friendly, understandable and in-date information online coming up to their treatment.

And as I’ve gone through my training I’ve seen some truly compassionate stuff and heard some amazing stories – of all types. The stories from patients that have stuck with staff, the stories that made staff go into the profession and stay when things have been or become tough.

Patients have been some of my best teachers throughout my training, but some of those lessons have been hard.

And I’d love to share these stories with you. Because everyone’s story deserves to be heard. And i hope through reconstructing these narratives together, we can empower our experiences.

A Radiotherapy Story is photo-documentary on kindness and trauma, on team-working, on suffering and on truly living. On being part of something bigger than yourself.

We want to share with you the stories of these people, of the NHS, to celebrate the pinnacle of humanity and kindness. Of life and death.  I hope you’ll enjoy what we’ve made.

http://www.radiotherapystory.com will be launched in 2 weeks time.

And if you’ve got a story in healthcare that you’d love to share, let us know! Contact: smizz at smizz@sarahsmizz.com or @smizz on twitter.

The project is run by me and Harri Slater.

Screen Shot 2016-05-22 at 13.39.57.png

 

 

Tomorrow belongs to those who can hear it coming

I recently received some incredible, completely surprising and insane(-ly good) news. 

As previously written on a few blog posts, I had applied for a PhD – not ever thinking I’d even get shortlisted, but I was happy with the learning process itself. Pushing myself forward, keeping my options open.

Before I fell poorly, and my life got all shook-up, I had an art practice-led-PhD proposal on my desktop for about a year. I wondered if I would ever be brave enough to submit it.  It was – at the time – something not super well researched. It was about Artwork and labour, and the dark-matter of the artworld – I was hoping to build upon my peers and artists who I greatly admire’s work – such as Gregory Sholette’s political activist artwork, like 1980’s PAD/D and his thesis on Dark Matter (which is one the best books ever on the subject IMHO); William Powhida’s  incredible practice on the Artworld power and structures; ARTWORK by Temporary Services; AREA Chicago’s work (that I was so lucky to have been an intern there in 2009 in Chicago, USA – under incredible people), Olivia Plender, Charles Avery, Tino Segal, ect ect.

 

But something didn’t feel right about this proposal.  Part of it was the proposal itself, and another part was probably my self-doubt, was I smart enough to do it? Could I justify my proposal?  And so I never submitted it. It didn’t matter much anyways, because the shit-hit the fan and the months proceeding this – my perspective changed after my life became obviously more temporary than I had imagined at 23/4. And I was left,  broken. My plans, my lil’ confidence I had left and my future-vision even more broken.

Art & Labour  became irrelevant to me, and with the recession and the popularity increase in socially engaged practices (yay!), my once some-what original PhD enquiry into art and labour became hot-topic. Diminishing any hopes at looking at it in the future.

I’ve never recovered from this illness experience. And I felt like I lost a part of who I was. For both better and for worse.

 

My desire to do this art & labour PhD got replaced  by my desire to change healthcare practice for the better. To make the patient pathway better.  As described many times before in these posts – my personal experiences mixed  with having this intuitive feeling about art & designs possibilities in creating a better healthcare experience and system – whether through designed medical devices (think IDEO), to architectural planning of spaces, art-therapy, using creative ways to map the patients experience or journey to generate things, to app-design and virtual reality. The possibilities are completely almost endless. It’s so exciting, but I also don’t think culturally we’ve got there to accepting it as one of our best tools (of many) to make things better.
So I re-trained, in radiotherapy & oncology to help me be part of the system to make sure I always listen to our patients and I felt that radiotherapy was this area that’s open to innovation.  And I’ve had a blast. I’m actually really good at what I do, who knew? I sometimess get 98-99-100% in my assessments, and I often get compliments & recommendations off my patients about my care, not too shabby for someone without any science background. I’ve learnt a lot about myself in this process, and built my knowledge and skill set further. And I feel such a good part of the teams I work with in the clinical setting.  But it has been ridonkulously hard. There’s no denying this. Especially whilst trying to juggle part-time work, and crappy health-issues. It’s been a battle. A healthcare course really tests you, and your resilience.
 

I felt that being an artist, I could use all my criticality skills and creative abilities to make this change. I felt that art had a place here.And i’ve flexed it out:
I made the first ever radiotherapy patient info app & won a bunch of awards.
I made the A-Z radiotherapy handbook comic
I made the faces of healthcare website of stories
I made an interactive radiation oncology revision group using twitter, storify, google docs and tumblr.
I made the first ever student-led conference dedicated to radiotherapy & oncology.
And a bunch of other things, which you can see here: http://radiotherapysmizz.tumblr.com/

 

Then I saw a call out for PhD proposals.
I was amidst in applying for radiotherapy jobs. I had been told that some of my ideas were “just too ambitious” in my first rad job interview, and then a few weeks later an informal chat with someone who previously worked in clinical-practice told me that: “I need to stay within my band, it’s not a band 5’s role to think of making things better”. Which started to give me a sinking feeling.
I’m a true believer in transformational leadership – whereby everyone – whether a porter, or service user, or volunteer, or student, or band 5 or band 8 HCP – can suggest an idea to make things better – because they’re the ones who experience the system in their way. And may see it from a different perspective – and that we all have equal responsibility: to practice safe and compassionate care. And to work together – effectively and collaboratively – to make things better. It doesn’t matter where you stand. As Judy Hopps says in Zootopia (AN AMAZING MOVIE THAT YOU HAVE TO SEE!) “Life’s a little bit messy. We all make mistakes. No matter what type of animal you are, change starts with you.”

 

So, I emailed my amazing Radiotherapy professor – Heidi Probst – and told her how I really saw creative practice/methodologies as a way to make change in healthcare. She instantly helped me out, said she’d be willing to talk through things. She pointed out her call out for breast/trunk odeama  (something that had come up with my app with a previous patient who was on an award panel – as I hadn’t included it in the side-effects – showing specifically why this needs to be researched as we’re not really taught about it in practice -i hadn’t really thought about it) and the quality of life issues associated with these patients – and we discussed how a creative way would be able to bring out these narratives – in a way that more well-known scientific qualitative methods aren’t able to do. To really make the people heard.
 

Sheffield Hallam has a unique research center called Lab4Living – it’s this super cool place that combines art & design practices to healthcare research. It’s a collaboration between art & health & wellbeing. So I saw this proposal sit right in the middle. A collaboration – and interdisciplinary investigation – with an outcome of a rich diverse narrative in many visual forms – it would be both art and health. I was advised by a bunch of academics to submit it to both departments – both art & health – because it was both, after all – and I felt that I’d do the same kind of work where ever I was based. So I did. I submitted the same proposal. Not expecting ANYTHING in return. No shortlist. Nothing. Just this increased knowledge that this massive gap in patient information and care exists for breast/trunk odema.

And honestly – for about a month – I thought of nothing more other than the plight of these people. I began to see people with trunk swelling on their posterior thorax with no advice in clinical practice. And this whole experience intensified something. Like when my eye doctor gives me option “1 or 2” when he sets my prescription, I suddenly saw option 2. It feels like it has heightened the stakes somehow -— reminding me repeatedly how precarious life is, and how every act is a contribution to a finite set of acts, that should be contributing to a bettering of the world (in whatever form that takes). Thinking constellations and not just stars.

Then I got shortlisted in 2 departments – and I panicked. I never envisioned this to happen. in-my-wildest-dreams!

So, after feeling like I was betraying both departments – I interviewed in both departments – each time feeling like I had let myself and the people who had given me this chance down. Both departments asked for 2 different kinds and types of presentations. PhD interviews are really hard to judge! I expected my chance to end there.

I don’t really know what happened in between.

There’s a quote that I’ve been thinking about for a long time, about having to let go of our planned life, to allow us to get to the life that’s waiting for us.

And when I fell sick, I let go of my planned life. And I went into radiotherapy but for a long while i just didn’t know what was waiting for me. And that has been one of the hardest parts. I now feel like maybe this is what’s been waiting for me. This beautiful combination of practices – both creative and health.

“You don’t understand anything until you learn it more than 1 way.” —Marvin Minsky

After much soul-searching. And I mean, really soul searching. I decided art would be the best place to sit – for the freedom. Though this decision did not come easily.

Getting this fully-funded PhD scholarship in art feels like I’ve come home. I’ve been lost, but I’ve been found. Changed but not fully forgotten. For a few years now I have been caught up between all that was and all that could have been and be. You feel lost.  As soon as the bones mend, you forget about the fracture, but you don’t forget that experience that lead to it.

It’s a bittersweet moment because I wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Heidi’s help, and I wouldn’t even be interested in making healthcare better through creative methodologies if I never fell sick in the first place.

My great friend Magda pretty much sums  up the bittersweetness perfectly with her quote to me: “Life sometimes gives us lousy hand of cards and we play it like it was fucking aces!! that’s what we do.” Someone make this into a motivational poster.

It is at this juncture that I want to REALLY thank all the people who has made this possible – a reality- Heidi, Alex Robinson,  Jo Doughty, Laura P –  all the people in art – Becky Shaw, Kathy D, Penny M, Claire — so many, many other people  – ALL OF MY FRIENDS & my mom & nan & bro – for all of your help. For taking a chance on me, for believing I could do a PhD, for inspiring and advising, for your belief in making healthcare better. For hoping for a better future for these patient. For all the talks, for all your time, supporting me. For taking a risk.

I am endlessly grateful. I know I wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for these people. I never take anything for granted and I feel like I can never repay y’all.

For everyone whose had a dream, and for all the working class kids who get told they can’t even make it to university — this is for you. We can do this.

Tomorrow belongs to those who can hear it coming.

My new chapter begins in September. And I am SO nervous.

No risk, No adventure.
To innovating healthcare by focusing on people & their experiences!

Your good friend,
Hopefully, future Dr. Smizz 😉

PS: my radiotherapy career isn’t over either.

 

 

unnamed

I don’t want to waste any more of my time. That’s all: A look back upon my 2015

 

Smizz’s top movies from 2015

So each year I do my top 10 movies. 2015 has been a great year for females. So many strong female-led movies. And it’s about time!

I love going to the movies, i love the anticipation of waiting to see a movie. However, this year I didn’t get much opportunity to see as many arthouse flicks as I would have liked, and this top 10 list reflects that. Now, each movie in my top 10 has a place – for it’s individual reason. So it might not be the *GREATEST* movie of the year, but it certainly achieved something for me in an area such as character development, or dialogue, or cinematography. ect. Sooo wasting no more time.

 

furyroad2

10.) Mad Max: Fury Road.  Unhinged, high-octane vehicular mayhem. A tough-as-nails postapocalyptic feminist heroine bitingly portrayed by Charlize Theron. (And hey, Tom Hardy was pretty good too as the titular hero.) A crazed ride into a monumental, lightning-etched storm with the pedal all the way to the metal while a war boy howls “Oh, what a day … what a lovely day!” Unforgettable movie moments are made of this. And to think the picture was made by a director in his late 60s. George Miller, you are the (aged) man for the ages.

 

rooney-mara-therese-carol-movie

9.) Carol. A breath-takingly beautiful cinematic journey of a forbidden love. Filmed as if an Edward Hopper painting had sprung to life, its mood washes over you in an evocative mix of opulence and despair as it dizzyingly dances with the forbidden. Some of the best scenes are filmed from the perspective of a person looking through a car window. 2015’s best romance.

 

 

01-05-2015-12-39-38

8.) Tangerine. This movie feels the most 2015. Shot entirely on iPhones and with a budget that wouldn’t cover cab fares on a blockbuster, Sean S. Baker’s indie dramedy makes virtue of necessity. Compelling filmmaking, too, in this Sundance sensation about transgendered sex workers, a pimp, cabbie and angry mother-in-law in lowdown L.A. Doing whatever it takes to make the invisible, visible.

 

jlaw-joy-slice

7.) JOY: Joy can be viewed as a modern day rags-to-riches fairytale. It’s Cinderella without the prince. In a way, that’s part of the film’s charm. Sure, there’s preposterous dialogue, but there are also so many electric sequences that made me lean in, smile, & care about a mop. It does give hope showing that no matter how one does struggle in life miracles of success are possible, so don’t read all the bad reviews and assume otherwise.

 

steve-jobs-biopic-780x555

6.) Steve Jobs. Side-stepping arguements about the accuracy of the biopic, the real achievement here is making cinema out of material that isn’t even a stage play as much as very expensive radio: a battery of dialogue, unbroken by reflective pauses or even, on occasion, the actors drawing breath. The staginess of the movie is its greatest benefit, allowing the characters and the dialogue to shine. Boyle, however, is not a director to be contained in dry rooms, and he allows this theatrical drama to move, via music and editing, into the realm of real cinema. It may be stagey, but make no mistake, it crackles and moves like a motherfucker.

 

spy

5.) Spy. Now i love a good comedy, but great comedies are hard to come by these days – and I feel like there’s less and less comedies being made due to their hard task. Spy makes making seemless comedies look super easy to make. Feig keeps his Spy machinery cranking so smoothly that nothing said or done feels as outrageous as, in fact, it is. McCarthy is the star of the film, but her willingness to let her fellow actors shine when an opportunity knocks to give the audience a belly-laugh is clear, and it’s the undeniable strength of the supporting cast that makes Spy a strong a film.

 

one-use-amy-film-2

4.) AMY. I was taken aback by how well an thoughtful this documentary was made. Watching Kapadia’s film, it is possible to see how badly she was let down by the male figures closest to her. it’s the music that suddenly feels monumental because somewhere in that dark stream of rolling notes and rumbling minors, we can hear the eternal soul of human sadness turned, for a brief moment, into something undeniably beautiful.

 

6-25-2

3.) Inside Out. It’s an emotional rollercoaster, and it’s one of pixar’s finest. It takes a long walk down an infinite pier of personal identity in,  an animated tour of developmental psychology that captures the pain of growing up using primary colours and Amy Poehler’s voice.  As for visual style, it’s dazzling, flouting CGI’s tendency to photorealism in favour of overt cartoonishness in a 1950s retro vein, together with a refined exploration of light: the emotions are composed of fibrous bundles of luminescence.

 

45_years_ausschnitt2-en

2.) 45 Years. An inner drama, taking place inside the characters. There are no heroes or villains in this film. Shot with loving attention to the silent vistas of the English countryside, 45 Years conveys a sense of isolation, of two people being together yet growing apart, a dream that has been shattered, and a lifetime of security undermined by a moment of doubt. It is a thorny subject but beautifully told with gentleness and love. Plus 2 outstounding performances.

 

 

martian-gallery13-0

1.) The Martian. I actually can’t stop thinking about this movie. A fan of the book, I wasn’t sure how the motion picture would compare, and indeed make the main character-likeable. But yeah, there’s flaws. But there was something about The Martian that captured the 12 year old in me. Damon makes the most of this “me time”, engaging our interest, winning our sympathy and teasing our anxieties about his perilous predicament. Whilst the most surprisingly element about this movie was the screenplay.  What makes the movie unique to me was Watney’s optimistic point of view. He believes that he isn’t going to die on Mars, and this transforms this rather depressing situation into something comical instead, engaging us with many self-help survivalist discoveries. But when you really think about it, this is a very personal film about some people coming together to save somebody. That’s it. And in today’s world, it’s nice to hear an story about people coming together to save one of their own. It might take all the romance out of Mars, but substitutes in its place science, cooperation, and human perseverance. PS: You should read the book too – and check out the author’s videos on how everything is correct including the astrophysics!

The Heart of The Matter: Hope.

About 2 weeks ago I found out that I’ve been shortlisted for another award, this time for — “Most innovative student-driven digital tool” — for the design of my *future* Radiotherapy Treatment Patient Information App – “RADcare”. And I’m still blown away by the shortlist. I don’t think I’ll win, but this definitely feels like one of my most proudest moments of my life so far, and I don’t know why? I’m just so honoured and surprised by being shortlisted!

My story is one we can all relate/resonate with. I got stuck. Like, really stuck. I encountered an illness I never saw coming – and for the first time in my life – felt really lost, and out of control.  At such a young age too, in the middle of building my artist career, and shaping the rest of my life. I felt so misunderstood. And when you’re not understood, you feel almost worthless. Dealing with these feelings on top of very distressing symptoms whilst trying to continue to run your life as normal as possible is actually really hard.  I had experiences with the healthcare system – both amazing and poor. As a patient I often felt powerless, stupid, a hindrance — and ultimately — voiceless. This lead itself to personal anxieties. Sometimes I felt like no-one cared. (But this was not true at all). But also I got treated every-now-and-again-like family. Like an old friend, with kindness, love and care. I’ll never forget those moments. And I soon realized that, that’s all I wanted to do; To make people feel cared for & important, and needed, and even loved. And as with my art practice, all I’ve ever wanted to do is make a positive difference. To help people. To make people think, think of the injustices, to act upon these inequalities, to feel better, to make the world a better and more just/equal place. People are struggling all around us. Every single one of us has something we’re struggling with each day – although the degrees of struggle are massive.

People need people, and they need truth, heart & hope. Authenticity wins, every time.

I look to the world around me, with this continuing experience in hand. And I see that we need coffee shops, sunsets and roadtrips. New & old songs, planes, trains and food. Fast internet connection & Twitter – but most of all – we need other people in our lives.  And at some point in your life, you will need to be that “other” person to someone else who needs you. You will be their living breathing, screaming, invitation to help them believe in better things.

We do not know how long we’ve got here. We don’t know when fate will intervene. What we do know is that with every minute that we’ve got, we can live our lives in a way that takes nothing for granted. We can love deeply. We can help people who need help. We can teach our children what matters, and pass on empathy and compassion and selflessness. We can teach them to have broad shoulders. And that’s all I want, really.

My friends say that I’m a “Smizz of all trades, master of none” – because I go out of my way to learn new things if I can’t understand it. That’s why I do work in all areas, from art, to printing, to photography, to web and app coding and designing – I’m very well read in political & economics too – and now radiotherapy/healthcare.  If you’re unhappy with something – don’t wait for someone else to make the change for you.

So every encounter that I have with a person at work (colleague, friend, patient, ect), or outside work, I try to make them feel understood, AKA – valued/respected/dignified. 2 days ago, I did a first day chat with a patient & at the end I said I was a student – and she said, “That explains why you’ve spent more time with me & listened to me.”  Time is extremely fraught in all of our lives, but we must make time to try to understand people and their journey.

So that’s why I decided to make my Radiotherapy app (RADcare). To hopefully help patients and their careers understand what’s going to happen, be able to feel like they can take more control by knowing what’s going on and have good, coherent, interactive and personal information covering all aspects of their radiotherapy treatment journey.  I hope that by all of us having a better understanding, we can make time for the really important things. I hope the app will be really useful in the future, and really helps patients and their loved ones going through their journey, a better – less stressful – journey. (It’s worth pointing out here that the app is just an addition to a service & MUST NOT be used in place of information contact in person with healthcare professionals).

Living with an illness, or after, is really, really hard. Normal life is never normal again.  It makes changes – both psychological and physical – that you had never anticipated. But it’s not all bad. I now feel more empathetic to other struggles than I ever did before, I cry more than ever at injustices (not on you- so no worries), and I know now that time is what ever you make it – the days are long but the years are short.  It’s not about your grades, or your clothes, or car, or house. It’s about being with those who love you, doing what you love, and trying to be the change we need.

I hope I can bring big heart to every thing I work on. I especially hope I can achieve it with the app. Life is hard. And I wouldn’t have got here today – feeling extremely loved – without the support of all my amazing friends (you guyz!), course-mates, my mom & bro, my colleagues (NHS, uni, art, Doc/Fest- ect), my doctors & other healthcare professionals and everyone else.

Hope you can help me evaluate the prototype app soon! Much love, Smizz!

Everything is fragile.

Mid-20’s isn’t that old, but I feel like I’ve aged 2 lifetimes in the past 3 years. Maybe aging like that makes you look back a bit more. Just as you can see from my blog, my focuses in life have shifted; I’m not just looking for self-improvement in what I can change per-say, but  more to learn how to have grace in the parts of me that won’t budge, or have grace in things I can’t control right now.

One of the hardest parts of having to adapt to being a much slower, less  interesting and hardly a multi-tasker Smizz due to illness, is being observed 24/7. I used to invite people to watch my performance of trying to make it in the artworld— I’d post lots of things I’d make, constantly advertise myself – I kind of craved the attention— but I had no idea that it was going to open me up to some damaging mindsets. It now makes me feel like I need to be on top of my shit 24 hours a day, and I can’t do that anymore. Mainly because I’m either in bed (mostly), studying (secondly),  drawing, or out trying to live life (making up for 1 & 2).  I’ve been trying to learn the “It’s okay to say no to things sometimes. Because if you can’t say no, you can’t fully say yes”.

I’m no longer  living up to the persona I assigned to myself.  I feel like I’m not only letting everyone down who invested their time into me, but I’ve let it make me believe I’m letting myself down too.

So after feeling like I was going to die, and feeling really sorry for myself. After not having the mental /energy capacity to work on my own work, just enough to work on others (which has been/is amazing, and I needed it to survive- both mentally & financially). After seeing people who I admire and respect because of their vision & dignity, struggle in this world. After months and months and months of wishing I could be part of it,  I returned from this ordeal to resume work and rejoin the artworld, but  my membership had expired. I felt like the Artworld had forgotten about me. And everything I made and saw seemed like trivial bullshit—because quite a bit of it was/is (not all of it). Disingenious money grabs.  all speed was stupid.  Some things was just despicable, because it stole the dignity of everyone involved. We deserve better.

This is harsh criticism, and way super cynical, but it is how I felt at the time. These feelings have eased a lil bit, but I’ve always had a critical view on the Artworld because I’ve always been coming from a disadvantaged point anyways. And I’m a Marxist. However, noticing the bad also makes it easier to see and notice the good. Many of the things I love about the artworld are still here, and doing maybe better than some of the crappy parts of the Artworld.

 

My friends, Lesley Guy & Dale Holmes did this super cool show  at Bloc Projects in Sheffield about Pizza  a few weeks ago. It was so good I went home & ordered a Domineos.

Screen Shot 2014-03-19 at 15.58.44

 

One of the best artists out there Gregory Sholette is trying to crowd-source this phenomenal project. http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/imaginary-archive-kyiv –  Which is an Imaginary Archive – a collection of fictional and real documents from a past whose future never arrived of Ukraine. It’s such a special and important exhibition, and so necessary at this time, so if you can find the time/$ to support it, that would be amazing!

 

Screen Shot 2014-03-19 at 16.10.17

 

 

I really, really, really want to see William Powhida’s phenomenal “overculture” show at the most AMAZING gallery Postmasters NY, that just opened this week. Powhida’s practice is about helping us see how fucked up things are and to inspire us to strive to a world of justice, supporting (art) world which encourages criticality and  risks.  it’s basically the (art)world we all really want, yet too scared to bite the hand that feeds us.  I keep putting (art) like this, because the artworld is just a microscopism of the ‘real’ fucked up world. Every problem within the artworld is a problem within non-art-related society. Mainly because it’s the same shitty force that drives both: greed and value in the banal, and unethical under-valued/under-paid labour in order to make $$. When in actuality, there’s significant power in our dark-matter-ness if we realize it, together.

 

My focus  and definition on “progress” made it easy  for me to forget that you can turn around from traveling in a wrong direction, and return to the place where things last felt right. You can go back. Now I feel like I’m starting from the beginning with my personal art practice, and it felt like a failure. But I’m slowly accepting that sometimes going back is sometimes progress.

A few painful years has taught me 1 of the important lessons about life: you only become bulletproof when you refuse to disguise your injuries. The wounds are a gift: You learn how to accept help, and better yet, how to better give it. This in turn is another reason why I’m studying again, to emulate the best care & understanding I kind of know that the patient needs. Remember: if you need help. Ask for it. We can’t do it all alone. All the time.

Life is now somehow more precious and less. I’m now back to my humble beginnings: To share what you know.

So that’s part of what I’ve been quietly doing/working on with F/O/R/C/E, a collaboration with Paul Harrison and a few others – >  forcelectures.org

Don’t wait for a life disaster to be the thing that spurs you into action. Everything is fragile and you are more resilient than you think.

Screen Shot 2014-03-16 at 12.53.10