Lasso The Moon

This week I was invited to #PatientsAsPartners16 event – It was organized in big part by Roz Davies – as part of Recovery Enterprises in Sheffield, NHS Confederation and Y & H Academic Health Science Network  & a bunch of other organizations and people.

Drawing events and workshops and conferences aren’t an unusual thing for me. It’s a huge part of my bread-and-butter. I  get to draw all kinda of things! From health & social-care, to technology, the government, to film, to education, to science, to social-media, to inspirational stories. You name it. I’ve had the opportunity to have a good draw of it. And in the 5 years of doing it, I’ve learnt a lot about subjects I never would have ever really thought about before. I’d love to, in the future, write a small book – based on all the things I’ve learnt as this “graphic facilitator”.

But  the ‘Patients as Partners’ event and working with Roz again reminded me of where this journey started for me. Back in 2012, I drew a  bunch of events for Roz and her colleagues at NHS England. It was all about trying to make the NHS more “people-powered”. We worked with patients and other service users like carers, ensuring they were part of the new design of PCTs turning into CCGs in march 2013. That the patient expertise and experience was central and a big part of helping local CCGs commission services that reflect the needs of their local community and patients.  That hopefully patients would be partners in this process, and not just an “involve a service user tick box” process.

And these “lay-members” and other patients relayed their experiences of having to navigate this fragmented system that just didn’t understand their needs – even though these needs represent the same needs of 1000’s more living with the same specific chronic medical conditions. And this misunderstanding, or even rejection of their needs, even though not done on  purpose or without care – was the start of a scaring and traumatic time for these people. But they didn’t give up.  They used their resilience to push forward new ideas, and new ways of working. Or setting things up to help others in similar positions. They learnt everything they could, they tried to redesign the system.

I had just started my medical journey at around the same time. And in the beginning it was fine, but the longer I was in this limbo position – the more I hated being a patient. I still hate it, probably even more. I feel judged, in not a good way. I feel ashamed – of myself for not being able to fix what’s happening, for not being stronger. I’m spoken to like I’m stupid. Healthcare professionals (worth noting not all of them, of course) say loaded sentences to me – try and blame things on me because I am “young and female” – seriously -. I feel bad for not fitting into the [healthcare] system (story of my life). I’m an issue, not an assest. I’m “complex in the way I present”. It’s so loaded.  I’m complex because I’m a human being and we are complex creatures, no?   Healthcare professionals can’t wait to discharge me – with no solutions or suggestions or even help. And I just think, my poor poor GP.

(I want to say that as noted in many posts that I have been shown incredible care & kindness by most HCPs and I think the NHS is phenomenal and has saved me in many ways – but that doesn’t mean there’s not issues or unkind words in the process)

And as someone who intrinsically makes connections across fields, knowledge, see how things are linked, no matter how big or small those connection are, who loves working with people, and coming up with creative ways – or trying new things/ways of seeing if something works. I find this whole process really rigid and foreign & I can’t understand why it’s like that? Because surely, people aren’t like this?!

And as a result of this old school way, I’m left completely alone. In constant pain – causing unnecessary health problems for future smizz as I try and figure out whether different things/medications/diets/ect will work. I’d be lying if this experience hasn’t made me Question the value and the worth of my own life. I’m often left feeling like I’m not even worth the time of the system because I’m complex and they’re not understanding how it has all affected me. Having to “live with it” without any direction, advice – or even hope – in what to do to help or move forward. It’s really, really hard.

Luckily, the struggle is my life. And I’m motivated by experience to try and make things better. And whilst I’d rather not have this pain and experiences, it makes me more empathetic to others struggles.

So, drawing all these events – where we’re trying to change culture, to redesign things so that actually we have care – not a just a stop and fix and go system – really resonated with me. And I thought if these people (patients) are using their experiences to make and design new things to compliment the system — then maybe I can use my own experience and my intuitive knowledge/creativity to be a better healthcare professional – and change the system that way. One -on One. Person by person. Making sure people feel listened to. Not judge anyone. And understand that sometimes it’s the really small things that make the biggest differences to someone, so not to just make assumptions. 3 years on, 7 weeks before I qualify, I try and make sure that no one leaves my care without knowing the support, plans and options for them going forward, and i always try and make sure they know that they can come back – – with questions, concerns, ideas. ect.

So that’s why I retrained. Due to hearing all these stories and seeing the virtue of human resilience. Not to back down, to help healthcare to become more than just instruction-based (practice, protocols) but also idea-based (critical thinking, envision ideas of others).

And the artist in me is integral to the process of helping to do this.  Patients as Partners discussed how we need to be more creative. We need to help people understand. We need to re-design new pathways, processes, community links, use peoples knowledge from lived experiences.  Nightingale showed that soldiers weren’t dying mainly on the battlefield, but instead they were dying in the hospitals due to the poor sanitary conditions there. Nightingale used this now famous diagram to influence hygiene practices in military hospitals, which resulted in lower mortality rates. The kind of design that Nightingale used can be thought of as, “Design to improve understandability.”  

For the past few years there’s been debate about healthcare reform. But for all the talk of funding and not being able to afford to do things, there’s a lot less talk about the stories and lives of the people who are the center:  patients and HCP.  And I believe art/design/creativity is going to help us bring the people, their knowledge, their experiences and co-produce things that matter and bring the people who matter to the center of it all (Although NHS does need WAY more funding, there’s no denying this ).

It’s hard to believe that 2012, doing the People Powered NHS and doing the Patient as Partners event in 2016 – of how much it has come together, of how much it has inspired my journey and thought process. And if that’s not proof that peoples stories can help change things and help us learn, help us to empathize, and grow – then I don’t know what is.

There remains a misconception that health is determined by health care. Through hoping to change things through art/design/creativity we can make cities healthier, we can involve the people who it affects, and learn from what helps/makes them worse, we can make people feel more empowered & valued, and in turn we can make people’s jobs feel more satisfied. And we will make the healthcare system more sustainable and caring in the process. And make society healthier and better in the long run.

It sounds all a bit grandiose but actually, after years of listening to people not giving up and showing how they’ve helped to change things locally and beyond through their lived experiences. It’s hard to ignore and not feel inspired. Hold onto ideas, esp when they’re considered risky. We can totally lasso the moon. I’m almost sure of it.

 

This is a great project that showcases the above: http://www.recoveryenterprises.co.uk/about/

Patients as Partners project will be written up into a report with recommendations.

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“It’s called a hustle, sweetheart.” The resolutely difficult advice to follow.

To celebrate getting a PhD scholarship, I did what any normal adult would do. I went straight to the movies (one of my favourite things to do) and went to see Zootopia (or Zootropolis as it’s called in the UK).  YOLO.

During the movie, it became clear why I had been patiently awaiting the release of this movie.

The film takes place in the vibrant, diverse world of Zootopia, a place where predators and prey live together in harmony, and are free to be whoever and whatever they want to be. These reasons are precisely why the land attracts Judy Hopps, a small bunny with dreams of being a police officer. Living on a farm, her parents fear this because, not only has a bunny never become a police officer, but they feel Judy should confine her aspirations to selling carrots on the family farm because that’s what is expected of her by society, something Judy has no interest in doing.

After successfully – but through hardship – completing police training, Judy is thrust into the force alongside other, more muscled animals such as rhinoceroses, rams, bulls, and elephants. Oh my.

Judy’s boss, Chief Bogo , a buffalo, forces her to be a “metermaid” while the other animals take on the bigger crimes, specifically a case involving fourteen missing predators. Judy tries to show herself by issuing over two-hundred citations in just a couple of hours, but to no avail, as Chief Bogo wants to make sure she knows her place on the Zootopia police force. When Judy winds up catching a weasel after robbing a store, she is just about to be fired when Chief Bogo tasks her with finding a local otter who has been missing for over a week. If she can find the otter in forty-eight hours or less, she can keep her job, but if she doesn’t, she’ll be forced to resign. Judy enlists in the help of Nick Wilde, a fox, one of the most looked-down-upon predators in Zootopia, who has been doing number of odd jobs since he was young, after blackmailing him in order to get him to cooperate. Together, the two work to find the otter, but in turn, discover something bigger. Oh my.

As you can probably tell, this is a film about both racism and sexism and underlying that – social-class (my favourite chip-on-my shoulder)  & how fear creates hate. Screenwriters Jared Bush and Paul Johnston carefully construct a world, predicated upon a particular dream, and within that world, populate it with a variety of characters, some labeled as normative, others quietly labeled as the enemy that many are waiting to step out of line. Bush and Johnston pen Zootopia carefully, but bluntly, to the point where you can’t ignore its profound, but simple message of inclusion and acceptance of peers. Oh my.

But on top of this, is the message about not giving up on your dreams, pushing boundaries and always attempting – no matter how hard it seems – to make the world a better place, no matter how small that thing is. Don’t let society dictate to you what they think you should be doing, if that’s what you really want. Always fight against the status quo.

I love movies with messages like this. Like Eddie The Eagle, who constantly shows us – it’s not about the triumph in life, it’s about the struggle. It’s about doing what you love, and not giving up in the face of immense adversity. Eddie The Eagle is another movie that shows the  working class character (based on truth this time) stick 2 fingers up (metaphorically, through determination) at the elitism of Great Britain Olympics Committee and whilst doesn’t win any medals, he wins a place in our hearts because he amplifies what it means to keep going.

Part of me sees my life narrative reflected in these hollywood-poetic license stories.  I think sometimes people think I’m exaggerating what I’ve been through in my life. From homelessness, domestic violence, i’ve had to be a carer, i’ve done some amazing travel, endured crazy poverty, the amount of jobs i’ve had to work to make ends meet or to do what others just naturally have the opportunity to do, life-altering (chronic) illness, terrible accidents (mostly on bike), fires, ect, ect. It’s all true. The good shadows the bad, but the bad has been pretty horrific – and I know many people from my background are enduring much worse. And society allows for this to happen, or to continue the unfairness that propels it further, or makes it difficult to get out of.

It gives me this weird -bittersweet – perspective of the world. I have my weight in empathy and in understanding how exploited and unfair and socially unjust our society is & how all the structures are generated to helping middle class and beyond people success, whilst discriminate those with less and working-class & below..  I think this kind of understanding probably only becomes so cemented when you experience life from the other side. Or see how your friends on the other side live.

I’m grateful to be alive,  I’m blessed to have all my friends, I’m just so lucky to have had the opportunities I’ve had and to follow what I love (art) & people pay me to do it for them & for the support I’ve had along the way & currently on this journey. I’ve visited many countries now because my university education allowed me a passport to see the world and work in different cultures.

 And literally, 17 year old smizz, or even current Smizz,  would never ever, ever, ever really  would believe i’d be here.

I’ve always felt a bit kind of behind everyone else, you know – in everything – art, radiotherapy, academia, life. Like a bit of an outsider, and a bit stupid. I’ve always had this chip-on my shoulder about the background I’ve come from & everything I’ve had to do to get where I am compared to a lot of my friends and peers. That i’m not as articulate, as likeable & as quick as others,  and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to compete. The world loves talent – but pays in character. And I kind of have neither.

And so it felt fitting, to celebrate my next chapter watching Zootopia. And Eddie the Eagle.  It reminds me that to “succeed”, we have to take risks.

We have to take bold leaps and move forward, brave and scared shitless at the same time. We will undoubtedly fall flat on our face. It happens. But we learn, make adjustments and not fall as hard or as far the next time.

But when we fail to trust ourselves to take that leap in the first place—that’s the real problem. It becomes an excuse to indulge our fear: to believe that we are not in fact talented or worthy enough— to believe that our crappy yet comfortable circumstances should win. This particular lack of momentum is called “Business As Usual” and it can continually crush our plans for greatness.

We don’t fail by falling. We only fail when we stop taking the leap. The idea is from Rumi’s observation, “Birds make great sky-circles of their freedom. How do they learn it?
They fall and falling, they’re given wings.”

Keep going. Keep jumping, keep falling. Don’t let others, or society imply, what you should be doing and how to do it.

I’ll try and remember this too.

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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.

 

 

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It takes more than biology to be a mom.

Today is mothers day in the UK. I know it’s actually quite a tough time out there for all the people who, sadly,  no longer have their moms in their lives, and all those people who have difficult relationships with their moms currently.

I know the latter feeling, but on fathers day instead. When I was younger, I’d get kind of jealous of people who had these amazing and supportive relationships with their fathers. For me, the first 14 years of my life – my relationship with my father was an extremely strained one. He either wasn’t there at all and when he was, he was a complete dick. He was abusive and an alcoholic. He made my mom, bro and i homeless when I was 15. And I always felt like it was my fault that he didn’t love me.  When I was 19, he tried to make up for his errors, he got in touch after 4 years of disappearing – and I decided to give him a chance, because that’s the buddhist way – but you maybe able to forgive but you can’t forget. Or you can forget but you can’t forgive. I’m not sure which catogry I put myself in.  He’s better than he was before, but maybe that’s because we don’t see each other, but he still has his drinking and his mean side which comes out when he only ever calls me when he’s drunk. Now I’m older, I realized I didn’t need him anyways.

I tell you all this because anyone can be a mother or a father – but it takes more than biology to be a mom or dad.  Whilst I never really had a ‘dad’, I had many people in my life that stepped up and became like a father-role model in my life, and did more than my real father ever did. Although, it takes time for me to trust any man in my life now.

But my mom was both my mom & dad. She was there for everything. She was my rock. She taught me how to fix lights and plugs. She taught me how to cook. She was the person at parents evening, she was the one who saw me off to prom, she gave me boy advise, and bought me my first alcohol underage (working class doncaster parenting). She was the one who would ground me. She was the one who worked 2 jobs to pay the rent. She was the one who has supported my decisions through not 1 but 2 degrees. She’s the one who has moved me between 100’s of university housing, she’s the one who tells me to follow my heart, and never ever tells me to do something because that’s what societally expected of me. Like saving up for flights rather than houses. She’s brought me up to believe in who I am, to never change, to feel safe in trying new things & taking chances because even if I fail she will be there to catch me when I fall and loose everything. And I know this because she was there when I lost everything. When I fell really poorly.

Getting sick was really shit. I couldn’t get out of bed. I couldn’t even watch bbc iplayer.  This though, just made our relationship stronger. She’s been with me every step of the way. She let me off with rent, she tries to cook my favourite dishes to get me to come back home on weekends. She understood why I needed to go into healthcare. She told me to apply for the PhD instead of encouraging a radiotherapy job – because she knows deep down that actually that would probably make me more happy. Getting to combine both of my loves: art and healthcare. Now i feel blessed and grateful for every single extra day that we get together. I never take for granted the time we get alotted, and i know that if i could follow her in her kindness, giving, and work-ethic – i would become a better person.

But the crazy thing is, they say it takes a village to raise a child. And it does. We may only ever have one ‘mom’, but we actually have a lot of moms in our lives. These are the people , our friends, who live 1000’s of miles away who happen to be someone elses mom – but they’re the next person you tell your good news to: like getting your degree, or getting an interview. They’re your friends who when you’re going through a tough time offer to do your washing, or shopping. They’re your friends who pick you up at the hospital. Who send you texts/tweets to see how you’re doing. They’re the professional friends who help you apply for the things you need/want, and take a chance on you, see something in you, and put their neck on the line to help you. Who forgive you when you do something stupid. Who offer their home to you. All of these, asking for nothing in return.

Because that’s what moms do. They give selflessly, make time, not doing something for themselves but for you instead – and they want or ask for nothing in return. So in a way, our good friends are also some of the best moms in our lives.

I’m the person who I am today, because my mom has taught me to be kind, be gentle, be true to yourself. When I felt like I might be dying, all I could think of was my mom. I thought you know, I’ve had this amazing life. And my mom made sure it could be the best it could be despite the horrific poverty and domestic violence we found ourselves in.  We now both know, intrinistictly that nothing is certain, everything is up in the air, and our time is limited – so we never take anything for granted and we both encourage each other to YOLO. regularly.

Sometimes people tell me they think I’m independent. But actually this is just something my mom has taught me because she’s one of the most strongest, courageous, and incredibly giving, resourceful and resilient people I’ve ever met. And without her I would be truly lost. I love you mom, and I am forever grateful for every minute we get together and for all the sacrifices you give us.

Happy mothers day to all the amazing moms our there, whether its our real mom, or  our friends who fill in those motherly roles from time to time.

Thanks for understanding my heart. It means so much to me. Big shout out to all the work and chances you give us all.

For those who find today difficult, you’re not alone. I’m here 🙂

Much love,

Your friend, smizz x

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The world isn’t yet done.

Being freelance and working from home, I slowly turned into a sucker for cooking shows like Masterchef, The Great British Bake-Off, The Taste, Come-Dine-With me, and almost anything on the Food Network. No cooking show was too long or too low-brow and underproduced for me.  I thought it was probably an age thing – I never watched this stuff when I was younger: turned out it was just a love of different foods (probs due to aging-maturity) but I think it was more to do with avoiding doing work/relaxation thing. This became clearer as a healthcare student – I watched these shows even more religiously. The MasterChef series is ALWAYS on when I’m trying to revise for exams or have 100 deadlines. Trying to avoid reality.

One day after clinical placement, my housemates and I sat down with our food to eat and watch food on the TV. This was a show about a bunch of chefs trying to make it in this Italian restaurant/bakery engrained in tradition and processes. One of the young chefs tries to take a bunch of short-cuts and the older chefs catches him – and tells him off – saying, “that’s not how we do it here! We do it the long, hard, stupid way”. Which is stuff like not using yesterdays bread, making fresh new bread instead, making the soup from scratch. ect ect.

And this really stuck with me. The Long-Hard-Stupid-Way.

I think I do everything the long, hard, stupid way. I often get told this. If there’s an easy or a hard way – you can guarantee that i’ll find the hardest way first. My mom says it’s because I don’t have any common sense.

But I started thinking about the routes I’ve taken to get where I am now. And I wonder if I could take an easier path – would i have taken it? The answer is probably no. And I started finding pleasure in reflecting upon this rough, hard-stupid-way path.

There’s a whole spectrum of – here’s the long hard stupid way  – which is ultimately the way I seem to be compelled to make & do things, and then at the other end we have super efficient way over there.

When you work the long hard stupid way – it looks a lot like worrying, scratching new ideas, endless notebooks, trying to learn things you’d never dream of  doing before, it’s a lot of others looking at you like you’ve got it wrong, it’s staying up late and then having to get up early the next day (killer), it’s not returning your library books on time,  but all of these actions are inspired by just caring a lot.

That’s not to say you can’t be efficient and not care deeply – but i, personally, don’t know how to do that.

But behind the long-hard-stupid way is a gift. It’s a lot of heart.

It’s staying up late, and sketching out plans and learning how to code smart-phone apps (FYI – it’s not the same as making a website which I originally thought it would be. Just because you know italian doesn’t mean you’ll be able to speak french), and taking the time to make it – without ever thinking about having a plan to make it accessible. Turns out making apps is a rollercoaster.

It’s going through a really testing health-issue, that literally breaks who you are – and makes you question everything you are & your worth– and going through the system that doesn’t know what to do with you – because you’re not a child and not an old adult – and instead of being a normal person and try and change the system from the outside, you decide to re-train and try to make the difference yourself,  inside the system.

It’s deciding to apply for things you’ll probably never get accepted to do – for the love of learning new things, and the process, and meeting new people – & ultimately hoping that the rejection and the attempt itself  will lead to more change and things to build upon for the future.

And most of all, it’s deciding to do all of it together – at once. Long-hard-stupid-way.

Freelancing is often the long-hard-stupid-way. You’re never sure how much work you’re ever going to get. So you just say yes to pretty much everything, just on the off chance you hit a lull and therefore you’ll still have some money coming in.  All the while – burning yourself out. The thing is, you always work more hours than you get paid to work. Life-work balance is hard to strike. And you can never officially take a sick day.

Working alone is hard. Being your own investor is hard (& stupid sometimes). And running all of these things together – teaching, app making, website designing, conference drawing, illustration commissioning, clinical-student-ing, academic-working – all while feeling crappy & being broke- is super long, hard  & stupid – and to do it responsibly is even harder.

Learning to work your life-balances out is hardwork. And it’ll probably take you some long-hard-stupid-ways before you know when is the right time to say yes and when to say no. A friend of mine when i was feeling so awful from fatigue & I felt like i was letting people down told me – you gotta say no if you really want to say yes.

Would i have ever wanted to go straight into healthcare from school? The answer would have been hell-naw. I didn’t have the empathy. I didn’t have the experiences I have now. I needed to experience the hardship to gain the drive.

So even though the long, hard, stupid way is just that, what it produces is something cool. When we work this way, it sort of gains an empheral quality. It’s sort of in the air – everything always feels up in the air. Whenever we make things this way – either for ourselves or for other people. There’s some kind of value in that. And that value exists outside of commericalization or money. And I love that. It sort of becomes a gift.

The thing with gifts is that – you have to be given a gift. You can’t ask for one. The more a gift moves, the more value it gains (has it been passed on through the family, does it fill a gap – a representation of a bond, is it using someones time) — like wise – the more work you put into something – the more value is gained. Ultimately a gift  is a sacrifice.

Essentially the best work I do is when I say something or do something or give something , to really help people (in every/any way), or to people I really care about.

But the biggest potential is that – Doing things the long, hard, stupid way – you learn all sorts (mostly wrong things) – but you get a gift. Or you create a gift for others.

It’s that you can build a foundation or something for people. My practice is driven by my  belief in making things for other people. Whether that’s making time to listen and to help, making something to make people think, making something that will better their experience, making something that brings people together, to make someone laugh or feel heard. By making something for other people, by considering someone else it moves the edges of our beings closer together and we gain more overlap in the process.

And we should look at these overlaps, to talk to each other. to know what we all have in common and to create more situations to create more commonalities. And by doing this we can some how grasp the wonder that is so hard to grasp – of what lies in the heart of making – and making things the long, hard, stupid way.

And when I think about all the awful things this government is doing and pushing through – from ruining the NHS, and demoralizing Junior Doctors, to entrenching a future generation in 50,000 + debt for education, to cruel benefit changes, to making students criminals if they can’t pay back their student loan immediately after they’ve finished university, to trying to get rid of our human rights, to airstriking syria, to stopping free dinners for children who can’t afford to eat. It makes me so, so, so angry. And even helpless.

But the long, hard, stupid way is all about continuing to try, push and make something – we don’t care about barriers – or the challenges – or even the outcome: the gift that comes out of making things for others shows and says for  us to stop, look and look around us. It says everything is possible again. And the world isn’t yet done.

If we can find the courage, and the strength to make things (whatever that is) for others, we can give these gifts back to one another. There’s so much more what unites us than what separates us. People power goes a long way – even if its the long, hard, stupid way.

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Designing Healthcare through Art & Design.

Medicine develops so fast, especially radiotherapy. But one of the areas we’ve not caught up with and developed  is the design of healthcare. I know what you’re thinking. What’s art & design got to do with anything in healthcare, really? And if you’re thinking this – this basically uncovers one of the reasons why design is an issue – because no one is thinking about it.

Last year I made the first Radiotherapy Patient Information Smartphone app. RADcare. Just me. I drew it out on paper – big sheets of A3, pages and pages – in the library and in Starbucks, I read paper after paper on patient informational needs, scoped out what is already out there, thought about the pathway and critically reflected my time as a patient and doing first-day chats on clinical placement. After being a patient (not a radiotherapy one) I’ve always felt that patient information – from the letters that you get from hospitals with appointments on, to medical procedures  to be flat, lacking in information that you actually need (Like where do you check in? ) and just depersonalised. If you actually get anything at all. Visually, they’re not very good either. It’s no wonder most people don’t read the material we give them. It looks about as enticing as getting a filling done at the dentist.

Then there’s the issues of – how one leaflet can’t really fit all. It can’t offer all the information you might want to know, it may also be in a format that isn’t accessible for people – like literacy is an issue.

And yet the government wants us to be more proactive with our self care – using the internet to try and gauge what we have is important enough to visit our doctors. But here in lies another patient information problem. We don’t know how reliable websites are for healthcare data and information. So when a patient, or a family member/service user, wants to find out more information about their treatment – they end up in a sea of vague, out of date, in accurate, non-protocol information.

So I designed this prototype smartphone app.  I wanted it to be everything current patient information is not. Accessible. Even a bit cute. Detailed – but you have a choice on how much detail you want to access. And colourful. A mixture of formats – from animations, videos and text. And most of all – more personable with a bit of heart. I wanted to break all the corporate rules.

Whilst it’s so important to do your user-research first, and make the UX design user-friendly first before design aesthetics – I prepared it with research and aesthetics first. I knew that the coding stuff (I need someone to make it work better than my amateur coding can do) can be fixed later.

As Bon Ku discussed in his interview on the importance of health care design, he states that “most of us don’t realize that everything in health care is design.Someone designed the pills that we swallow, those gowns that we wear in examination rooms. But I think most of it’s designed poorly; we too often will design mediocrity in health care.

And Ku hits the nail on the head perfectly. I’m passionate about using art processes in innovating healthcare and it’s design away from mediocre.  I jumped ship from art to healthcare to use my passion of trying to eradicate social-injustices and inequalities to try and make the patient pathway better. I know, from my work with NHS England and other healthcare organizations, that creative methods – from drawing patient’s experiences, and filming their life – are great and affective ways to make the patient feel heard and valued – and as a result – you produce something with much more worth and use. Because it was built with the experience of the people using that service/prototype/leaflet.

I think part of the worry with using more creative ways of designing healthcare comes from healthcare’s obsession with measuring outcomes. In a scientific way, too. This culture needs to be adapted – not just for innovation but also for our practitioners whose continuity of care doesn’t get acknowledged. That extra 10 minutes spent with a patient – with no boxes to tick to get measured – but it made a massive difference for the practice and the patient.

But how do you evaluate the use of creative ways effectively? How do you measure them? Is small-scale testing enough? It’s a mine-field.

So I hope you’ll help me. I wanted to try and use my app as part of my dissertation — just so my spare-time project gets some academic acknowledgement. I’m doing a design evaluation of the app – and I’ll be putting key-parts of the design online with some questions and one-on-one interviews. If you want to help me evaluate the design — i would be extremely grateful.

If you want to help me – I would love to hear from you! – holla at me on Twitter, or by email smizz@sarahsmizz.com

If you have any cool articles about heathcare & designing/art – i’d love to know about them too.

And if you’re passionate about making a difference, or about art& design and health care too – Let’s share an email or grab a coffee.

Here’s a taster of the app (My favourite but is skin-care guide) 😉

 

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Today, I discovered that I’ve forgotten my path, maybe even who I am.

“If you change the way you look at things, the things that you look at change.” — Max Planck

I’ve written about it endlessly before, but I feel like I’m living a new – unexpected – even unwanted version – of my life. i’ve endured years and years of being in pain, delibertating symptoms and fatigue that made it so my old life didn’t fit the way it used to. My old life – and still does when I get close to mirroring it – drove me into the ground.

I love art. I love it with every fiber of my being. It was the thing that kept me awake all night, and i worked and worked and worked on this pure love of mine. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t really money viable – it didn’t matter that I kept 3 part-time jobs down as I jugged residencies and commissions, and writing endless proposals that would mostly get rejected. I loved it. I loved the potential for it to connect people, and ideas, and potentially make a change. Make a difference. I could never see a future for myself where art wasn’t in it. It’s still the thing that helped me keep a part of my self through the big change.

Unfortunately this tidal wave came begging to tear down my dawn, and made me struggle against it, made me choke on salt water. And it changed how i saw the world. I took a bit of a different direction — but I told myself, it would be with art too. But it was hard to see a future when I wasn’t sure if I was going to have one.

Trying to be arty and creative in healthcare is hardwork. Some people are suspicious of your enthusiasm, suspicious of your motivation – they don’t really understand you. Some people just don’t get it. Some people are amazingly visionary and creative and risk-taking too – and super supportive which excites me and I’m endlessly grateful for these people. But it’s hard. And my personal-art practice took a bit of a backseat in my eagerness to better the patient pathway.

I’ve been writing a proposal — another one that will probably be rejected – in true art form – but it’s reminded me of my old life again. Writing pretentiously yet beautifully philosophical sentences feels good for my soul. Writing emotively instead of just cold-facts – blunt, how do science people do it all the time?  I can slowly feel the warmth coming back into my fingers and heart. I can feel parts of my brain working in a way that I’ve missed.

Conceptions of the body are not only central to medical anthropology, but also to the philosophical underpinnings of Being. Western assumptions about the mind and body, and the individual and society, affect both theoretical viewpoints and research paradigms. These same conceptions also influence ways in which health care is research and delivered in Western societies.

Foucault (1972, 1977, 1980, 1988) stated in his writings on biopower that medical technologies frame and focus healthcare professionals’ optical grasp of the patient, with the ‘medical gaze’ that abstracts the suffering person from her sociological context and reframes her as a “case” or a “condition”. Patients are seen as the voiceless, lost in a system that reduces them to their diagnoses, or not even that making the experience even worse, and often fails to understand their suffering. This is exemplified through my own experiences and was exactly the reason why  I – the artist and experiencer – needed to change things.

Clinical biomedicine is the product of a Western epistemology. Healthcare professionals often struggle to view humans and the experience of illness and suffering from an integrated perspective, they often find themselves trapped by the Cartesian legacy. This lacks a precise vocabulary with which to deal with mind-body-society interactions, resulting in the disconnectedness of care throughout a patients’ pathway and beyond.

In writing this, I realised just how disconnected I had become from my own art practice — the person I was – and my experiences. I had to go through archives of old websites to remind myself on what I did in my art years for this application; the time before I fell sick, before I committed most of my energy to healthcare. It just seems like a distant memory now. And I was shocked.

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It was like in a movie when someone discovered old, worn-yellowed newspapers of events they couldn’t believe happened.  Here existed an amazing list of my achievements, that I had forgotten all about. The pain had erased them. Struggling to survive, and get through each day had taken its toll upon me. I had literally forgotten what had made me who I am.  The crazy thing is, I struggled and worked so hard to achieve all of this. And it had disappeared as quickly as my old life had been taken. What amazed me more was how this was pre-bucketlist. I have since, began to tick a few of my other goals of my past life off, unknowingly. And I have achieved a bunch of stuff that became more important. (It’s als important to note – i’ve been drawing loads & getting paid as an artist/illustrator – it’s just not the same stuff)

But as my radiotherapy studying chapter is coming to a close, I’m starting to feel the eagerness to reconnect with my old life – despite still having all the issues that made me change my life direction in the first place. And it’s confusing.

“We must be willing to let go of the life we’ve planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” — Joseph Campbell.

I let go of the life I had planned, but the life that is waiting for me is unclear. I’m unsure what to do, where to go next. Healthcare doesn’t fully accept me for me, but art doesn’t either. It has so much commodity and rewards so much self-absorbed-ness . Life is precious and there’s suffering – which art can help aid – but the Artworld doesn’t understand what I’ve been through, and felt, and why healthcare needs to be changed so others don’t have that experience.

But who will accept me? And why have I written this? Well, if finding my old resumes and pieces of my old life dotted around like dusty digital footprints has taught me anything today – is that we should be archiving our lives, our work, just incase we do forget what we’ve done. If we forget who we are, or who we were.

And I also know that there’s people like me out there. This here serves as a reminder for future Smizz – who will probably be doing something else completely insane – like a career in maths or something else I can’t do. And for anyone else going through a hard time.

You gotta swim, swim for the music that saves you when you’re not so sure you’ll survive. And swim when it hurts. The whole world is watching – and you’ve haven’t come this far to fall off the earth. Currents will pull you away from your love – just keep our heads above the water. Memories are like bullets and fire at you from a gun. We all get cracks in our armour – but don’t give in. Sometimes the nights won’t end. But you gotta swim for your families, your sisters, your brothers, your friends. You gotta get past wars without cause, past the lost politicians who don’t see their greed as a flaw. You gotta swim in the dark, there’s no shame in drifting, feel the tide shifting away from the spark. You gotta swim, don’t let yourself sink – you’ll find the horizon, please believe me – I promise you it’s not as far away as you think.

The current’s will always try and drag you away from your love- just keep your head above the water and swim.

Art is part of my being. It’s what makes me tick. It’s what makes me feel truly happy. But I also know I can’t let inequalities, and issues that exist that I know can be fixed – happen without any input.

So even though I had forgotten 80% of my art life. I’m going to put it down to trauma. I don’t necessarily think people are born as artists, but they certainly die as artists. I’m always going to be an artist – even if I lose my footing a bit. And I look forward to building more goals to combine art and suffering into better change.

I never want to forget who I am again.

 

 

1 year older, Casting Lines.

Tomorrow is my birthday. I’m getting old. I found my 10th grey hair today (yes I’m counting) But I’m still here. I’m still alive.  And it amazes me. But there’s a lot I don’t know. And there’s a lot I’m still learning. I’ll be Nickel on the periodic table. Nickel is a silvery white metal that takes on a high polish. It is hard, malleable, ductile, somewhat ferromagnetic, and a fair conductor of heat and electricity. Ni-64 is used for the production of Cu-64 which is used in radioimmunotherapy. Ni-61 can be used for the production of the PET radioisotope Cu-61. Which puts me in good company.

But turning a different number has less significance than having your first child or losing a family member. Those are real Life milestones.

When I was younger, I was worried I was going to be behind. I was always in hurry to do everything. Most people get a foundation degree before art school. I managed to convince art schools I didn’t need one. Then I mixed my masters with my undergraduate degree & completed them at the same time – it made me one of the youngest people in the UK with an art BA & MA at the time (First class, too). I went to summer camp as soon as I was allowed to apply for a J1 work visa. I went to NYC as soon as I was allowed to rent a hotel room alone (and worked 2 jobs to pay for it). Now I’m so behind my peers. And I want to slow down time. I sometimes wish maybe I should have taken my time & not rushed things. Smelled the roses, as they say. But There’s never enough time.  And now I’m in a place where I feel like I’m living on extra time I wasn’t expecting — which is pretty sweet. 

When I look at my photos of 2015 I think of the juxtaposition of beautiful scenery with private pain. Emerging from this exacting year, I am grateful (but still pissed off & frustrated with having pain) for the suffering because of how much it has taught me – and continues to do so, and how it made me even more compassionate to others. The kind of tumult I’m in is both a physical and an internal one, and it doesn’t detract from my gratitude that I am able to live a life involving new places, meet new people, laugh with friends, care for people in need, learn new stuff, see delightful sights and eat beautiful meals (most of which are cooked by my mom). It’s taught me that it’s always possible to find wonder in the world despite things being tough, because the world is full of wonderful things and people. These fleeting moments of awe, strung together with acts of kindness, kept me afloat.

I can’t help but feel severely indebted to everyone who’s helped me along my journey, especially in my search for a resolution. For all those people who ‘took a chance’ on me. For everyone who has replied to my late emails or who’ve reached out to me. For all my friends who’ve been right beside me, whether it be when I’m having a good time or when I’m tucked into my bed, drenched in my own cold sweat .

Who knows what 2016 will bring, but as my last day as 27 winds to a close I have learnt more, dug deeper, and thinking of my next year ahead. I want to take the an opportunity to redefine many things as well as to recapture certain values and certain things that are potentially important for me and for people in general…The importance of giving back is starting to be theme for me. I want to be generous to the people who have helped me out. I want to make sure not to ‘ghost’ on people either. In order to be credible, you must be authentic and true. I’m starting to write my proposal for my PhD in creative practices as a means of moving health research evidence and interventions into everyday practice. I’ve already applied for 2 of my first radiotherapy posts (probs. won’t get interview, like). Moderation in everything. Don’t be an asshole and don’t be a pushover. Change is the only constant in Life. It moves forward regardless of how hard you resist. Be kind. Be empathetic. Take care of your parents. Cultivate relationships with those that matter, those that genuinely care about you. Embrace them with your whole heart.

My birthday’s tomorrow, but help me celebrate since I’ll be spending the whole weekend revising. Donate time/things/currency to Yorkshire Cancer Research , Doncaster Cancer Detection Trust and/or another cause that’s close to your heart! Feeling blessed and lucky to have such great friends and family.

As for Birthday plans after my exam on Monday: Heading straight to laser quest, drinks, movies & some good ol’ pho in Sheffield. It’s going to be a birthday week.

2015: thanks for giving me what I needed and teaching me what I didn’t understand. You were challenging & profound.

Hoping for a 2016 where we open the doors wider and take care of each another

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I am hoping for 2016 to be a year where we open the doors wider and take care of each another

Susan Sontag wrote in her “Illness as metaphor” (1978) essay ,

“Illness is the night-side of life, a more onerous citizenship. Everyone who is born holds dual citizenship, in the kingdom of the well and in the kingdom of the sick. “

I’ve found myself asking myself, “Smizz, how do you get from here to there? ” I’ve spent the last few years trying to find my way back to the kingdom of the well. 2015 was all about screwing up maps, getting really, really lost. Like I’ve been using Bing maps instead of google maps.  I feel like my good-healthy passport needs renewing.

I get good days, even weeks, only to be knocked down by by more complications, more intense symptoms.  Life wasn’t going my way, but that’s something I’ve been learning to get used to and it happens to us all. I definitely cope better now,  but what I can’t get used to is the feeling of being broken.

And what’s scary is that most of this is happening to us all, in some shape or form: depression, low-self-esteem, a loved one being sick, unemployment, abuse, bullying, war. ect. At some point, we all loose our footing. And in the wake of trauma, sure footing can be hard to find.

When all this started, and I thought I was going to loose my life,  I was full of regret.

I had a good life –  But  why did I spend so much time on Facebook ? There was so much more I wanted to do, places I was worried I was never going to see. I always wanted to have a border collie puppy. I always wanted to own an american fridge with an ice maker (not sure why, I don’t even like ice in my drinks). But here i was thinking I’d never have any of that. And what about my artwork, my art-life? I had dedicated nearly 7 years of my life to what I was doing. And I had left it behind, without saying a word to most people except close friends.

I wrote a will. I settled my affairs – they told me to. And i was terrified because I’m an artist – and i was seeing a future where if I go blind, I might not get to do my work anymore.
But I’m alive. I’m alive! And I’ve learnt that there’s a big difference between surviving and living.

 

So in 2013, I was slumped over with fatigue. I barely got out of bed. But what I do realized then was that I couldn’t just keep living my same old life anymore because it just didn’t fit anymore. The stakes had changed. My life view was flipped. All that stuff i thought was important, turned out not to be that important.

In 5 months time, I HOPEFULLY will be a qualified radiotherapist.  I’ve spent the past 2 years being pulled through my course by my amazing friends and family whilst managing horrible, horrible side-effects/symptoms?.  I will be qualified to deliver radiotherapy treatments, create treatment plans,  innovate and care  for my patients and their carers going through the cancer pathway.  And I’m super excited and shit-scared. I took on this course for a number of reasons: One was to help me cope & have some understanding of the human body, and genetics and control, 2 was to give back to the NHS and to emulate the great care I was given & to irradicate the poor care I saw too. But ultimately it was to help make the difference I want to see, to make the pathway better for others. To enhance and help empower patients and their carers narratives. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learnt is when you’re sick – you feel vulnerable and voiceless.

And at first, this change was really, really hard. I’ve questioned my decision maybe a 1000 times. But it still feels right, even when I have to do 100 pointless academic tasks and I miss having free days to make and draw things I want to make.  But together with my friends we organized the (2014 & 2015) first student led Raditation oncology conference, I made the first radiotherapy patient information app, got a drawing published in journal of medical imaging and radiation sciences, won an award for my app, and presented at the international  Design4health conference, did some clinical experience in North America,  and went viral with this blog post about what we do in radiotherapy,  raised £850 for Doncaster Cancer Detection Trust and some more. All through combining art and radiation practice and empathy. All in 2015.

If you asked me 5 years ago if I saw myself here – the answer would have been – what’s radiotherapy? And errr nO?! If you asked me at the beginning of my course if I would be in 3rd year now, I wouldn’t have been so sure. But now here i am, trying to adapt healthcare research with creative methodologies.

l’ve experienced chronic pain and fatigue. I realized how debilitating it can be, and how rarely we take the time to understand it in others.  But this lesson is still being learnt. The experience is humbling and, more than anything, made me much more aware of – and empathetic to – the hurt that we ignore.

This, in particular, is my motivation going into 2016. My resolution (although I hate the word “resolution”; it sounds flimsy and self-obsessed) is to take more time recognizing the pain in others and offering solace whenever possible. I aim to keep the dialogue open with all of you, whether online or in-person. I want us to be open, and warm, even in the face of the unknown. Always believe you can change the world – even if it’s only a tiny bit, because every tiny bit needed someone who changed it – and one person CAN change the world.

2016 maybe full of joy for you. It maybe full of challenges. It’ll probably be full of both. However it all plays out, remember that we have each other. Don’t wait to be asked for help; you’re already being beckoned.

I started 2015 feeling lost in transition, the pain was really, really grinding me down. I cried like twice on clinical placement because I felt behind & that I’ve got a lot to loose, I gave up my art life. There’s no roadmap to picking up the pieces of a broken life.  So I’ve been drawing my own roadmap, and somewhere along the way, I’ve started to feel like I’m living again with the help of all of YOU – my friends.  I’ve visited 5 new countries this year. I chased the Northern Lights with my friends, we rode under Niagra Falls, we drank thrugh the worst icelandic storm of 30 years. And as I  have watched the ocean many times this year, it reminded that the suns set, but it will  rise again and everything keeps moving. But we don’t get forever. And that’s ok. We just have to make sure the stuff that counts, really fucking counts.

 

I hope that 2016 will hopefully bring me some more closure, and I’m hoping for less headahce, much less fatigue, more adventures, taking more photographs, seeing friends, better email action, laughter, fun, love and hope. And finishing & passing my degree without a nervous breakdown (lol) . And hopefully a job offer, if I’m lucky. You never know what the road has planned though.

Happy New Year friends,

With so much gratitude for you for getting me here

Unconditional love, lets make the world a better place in 2016!

Your good friend Smizz x

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