> whats something i regret?
> whats something im ashamed of?
> whats something im sad about?
> what i wanted 5 years ago?
> what do i desire most?
> in 10 years where will i be?

not listening to myself.
falling behind. letting life pass me by.
the normalisation of apathy in society.
to be free.
to connect.
i cannot ever know this.

✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴

SCEPTISISM

this task set was frustrating. i am an inquisitive person, but not to this extent. its good to be informed. its good to want to know things. but nitpicking every single detail isnt something i try to do.

> task one

During a conversation, question everything the other
person says. Don’t accept their answers, instead question their answers. No
conclusions, instead leave everything open to question. Is this a satisfactory way to
have a conversation? Is it frustrating? How does it differ from a “normal”
conversation? Could all your conversations be like this? If not, why not? Would it be
better if we questioned everything like this?

my reflection on this task is written in the sketchbook spread above, but it really did feel like i was instigating anger. Like i was riling people up on purpose. i guess i was, because i wasn’t really that inquisitive. it felt like watching a dumpster fire, watching the flames slowly grow into a beast. and in the end i realised that

> i already knew the answers
> i didn’t want to know
> im okay with the information that people hand out readily. some things are meant to be left alone. people are allowed to hide the bitter parts of themselves

alongside this, it makes me think about how children live in this world where its increasingly hard to learn things. there is a lack of compassion for those who ask questions. peers in school classrooms will laugh if you ask a simple question.

ive never been afraid to ask questions or for aid, but it also means that i’ve helped anyone else whos asked me to ask for them. its sad to think about; that there is so much anxiety and peer pressure in this world that its not okay to learn.

> task two

Look around you. Note the types of things there, be it
chairs and tables, people, sky and trees, weather. Do these things exist, or do
different types of things exist in different ways? How do you know this? Can you
prove they exist and what method could you use to do so? Is it possible to carry onyour day in a normal way if you don’t know that the things around you exist? What
might the consequences of this be?

i did some more thought into the psychology behind scepitism, unaided by textual sources. just my own deductions. i could only come to the conclusion that its deeply rooted in insecurity; someone who’s trust has been betrayed will of course put up walls and want to know all possible options.

fundementally, im the complete opposite. i trust easily, i’ve been told that it might be too easily. i rely on my intuition and i have a faith in humanity that hasnt managed to be erased yet. but i know the disapointment and annoyance at not being able to trust yourself. to ask for second opinions because you dont trust your own judgement.

the piece above is my depiction of that. i was thinking about a scenario where everything wasnt tangible anymore. when you reach out your hand it phases through. but also not so much in a physical sense than a metaphorical one where memories are wisps too. the thought of losing the one thing that sceptical people would truly trust. i tried to express the real fear in the expression on the character. they are the only clear thing on the page.

> task three

Make a list of things you believe you know for sure

eg. objects, people, nature, ideas, thoughts. Consider the items from the list and ask
yourself: Do I know that this is true/certain? Or is it just a belief or even an idea in my head?

What item on the list can you be completely certain of (if any?) Is it safe to
lead your life based on belief rather than certainty? Are you still as certain about the
items on the list as you were when you made it?

i honest to god hated this image. it was the lack of planning. and so i scanned it and took it into procreate to see if i can mess around with it. the colours especially; i didnt like the cream of the page with the neon multicolour pencil that i used for the fuzzy blindfold.

at this point i took a step back and looked at the piece. i really did not like the text anymore. and so i used the clone brush to get rid of it. it made me like the piece a lot more, as the blindfold texture had somehow come to resemble the wool of a scarf that i owned when i was a baby, that my neighbour in new zealand had knitted for me. it holds a special place in my heart. and i think that its something that i am actually sure of; the past that i know and the memories i own. i know more than nothing, even though sometimes the current state of the world really does make you feel like you know nothing.

i include the version with the text for preservation’s sake. click the arrow to view it

✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴

musical philosophy

i truly treasure music. its a deeply integral part of who i am, despite not talking about it all that often.

since i was 12 i have been obsessed with “vocaloid” and the subculture around it. consequently, my friends will not give me the aux ever.

the vocaloid subculture is completely unrestricted by the record companies and labels of modern eras due to the fact that it is dominated by ameteur producers who are making music for the first time. by using the “vocaloid” vocal synthesis software, they link the songs that they write to a whole community of people who are ready to support eachother.

hence, the songs that come out this community tend to comment a lot on the issues with society, the flaws that allow the people in the community to deeply resonate with eachother. why else would a random person start making music if not for to let out their ire with the world? and of course, the internet is good at uniting people through media consumption. it was essencial to the growth of the vocaloid sphere.

there are countless songs that i was considering. i even managed to name a song for each of the issues that luke listed:

> MEDICINE

i ended up making a lot of assets that i could use for the song “medicine” or igaku

イガク – Haraguchi Sasuke

the last image is encompassing for the song in my mind, but in a highly minamalist way. i would probably edit it to hell and back, overlaying these images over and over eachother. i am deeply aware about art representing music, but i fear that i gated myself by picking such a hard song to represent. i decided to move on from this rather than linger too much on it.

here is what i did start to do for the “final image” though, before i scrapped it.

✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴

ritualism

luke asked us to write down what rituals we do in everyday life on a sheet of draft paper. i did this with mel and jasmine.

the difference between rituals and routine is clearly nuanced, but one can easily become the other when a bit of meaning is added to them

heres the corner with my rituals (blue)

i then rewrote the list in my sketchbook:

rituals i do:

> meditating
> finding new music
> replying 2 texts
> making tea
> dying my hair//cutting my hair
> smoking
> replying to penpals
> reading
> painting nails
> writing letters
> wandering

the distinction to me, between these being rituals and routine, is that i do not do these all often. i don’t do them on a set pattern, but more that if i suddenly have time i will allow myself to immerse myself in the moment and allow myself this task. i do not drink tea every day, much much less, but i’ll find time for it if i feel i need it. i meditate when i feel my body is yearning for space. i wander around town when i feel i need that time for myself. and i do it often enough that i would call it a ritual. there is a food for the soul in it.

i created this illustration in response:

i drew myself cutting my hair, replying to texts before bed, writing a letter and painting my nails. and then i wrote my take on rituals ontop of the entire peice.

it was interesting to think about. this is how i live my life. these are the things i do to be myself. and they’re shared between the world.

✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴

picking a route

i wrote down a lot of musings to debate over and see what i was most interested in exploring. this helped me pick one of the routes as i had a bit more direction to follow.

FROM THIS discussion I ENDED UP LOOKING INTO ROUTES 7 AND 8:

i liked the introspection aspect of “reflect”. i thought it really leant itself to what i had been doing so far with the brief. and theyre themes that i like to tackle in my work. it made sense. and so i started sketching. a girl looking back into the past while being forced into the future. a boy with a key with nothing to unlock. no place to fall back onto.

more classic yamil social commentary. being forced into being someone youre not was a theme that really resonated with me.

instead of wandering off on my own tangent for the pathway, i decided to rip the words i was going to explore straight from the brief:

> freedom
> alienation
> belonging
> nostalgia

i am well aware that i tend to go off-kilter, especially so with a topic so heavily layered. so this structure should help me a lot.

✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴

freedom

the word freedom can be applied and interpreted in so many ways. what truly is free? what does it mean to me right now? what are the burdens that come with freedom? obviously everyone wants to be free. right? sometimes i dont think so. its easier for victims of abuse to be told what to do and where to go. to be given a trustworthy structure and routine that they can trust in. even if it is ultimately malicious.

the less responsible you feel for your actions, the more free you are. how easy it would be to live without being held accountable.

…

from this i decided to look at what materials i would call “free”. i was enamoured with the idea of making a figurine out of clay. it did not go well. this was my first time trying out clay if it wasnt already evident.

and then i painted her with gouache. and we got here. i honestly have a love-hate relationship with this amalgamation but i think that was to be expected. regardless i think i captured the kind of desponancy and vulnerability in her that i thought that she would be feeling. even if her hair is chopped and the perspective is skewed because of the lack of prep.

the part of the piece i like the most is the background. i tried to envision colours as emotions that would fit the piece and blocked them out onto the paper. they fit her. the warmth of hope and the dull grit of being close to giving up. that is the responsibility of freedom.

✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴

belonging

to describe belonging is hard. it’s something innate that your brain decides for you depending on how comfortable you are. what do you consider home? and do you feel at home in the world?

to live without a sense of belonging is harsh on yourself. it only makes you spiral.

i am familiar with it. i often feel like the outlier; i belong to so many minority groups that i never see people like me. not belonging in the general populous.

and yet we live. i live. and i learn to push down these insecurities.


i decided belonging is something thats woven into your genetic code. for some, it’s decided at birth, like fibres woven together. before looking for materials, i did some sketches to get a sense of what i wanted to put onto fabric so i could figure what would work best when i went on my search for materials.

belonging is a hard thing to represent in sketches; it is more of a feeling. a welcome home. heres what i drew:

> someone crying, finding themselves in the arms of another
> alone in an empty room. isolated
> a warmth eating at your chest
> fractured on the surface, a key component missing on the inside
> misplaced parts
> major damage missing.

these initial tests were poor. i was really struggling to find a way to get the ink to convey on the fabric. also my imitations of the original sketch did not hold a candle to the original. i realised that tracing paper would be the best way to get what i wanted, rather than drawing straight onto the fabric without any preparation.

i don’t have a picture of the finished lineart but i wasn’t happy with it; it was clearly missing something.

i then tested how ink interacted with the material (poorly, insane bleeding as the fabric absorbed it), and landed on acrylic paint as the answer. i painted the whole piece with it. when painting and drawing on fabric, you become intimately aware of the discrepancies in the surface. it’s rough. it requires multiple passes of the brush. i’m sure a metaphor could be made here between this and fitting in.

i liked how the lines ended up bleeding into the paint. it made the piece feel messy but human.

a patch. when it’s cut out like this it looks a whole lot better. holding your home close to feel a sense of belonging. this is your place.

✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴

nostalgia

for nostalgia, i initially went around to antique shops as well as oxfam in brighton. i found a basket of discarded scraps of paper and mementos. things that once belonged to people that were found in the items that were donated. leftovers.

heres the scans of what i found:

what i bought: _{(for 20p each)}

> a blueprint for a ship
> discarded strips of film
> a lone sheet of poetry

i had a good long talk with the clerk in the shop where i bought these. he obviously was questioning why i was buying these, and what my interest was in them. i told him that i was going to repurpose them and weave them into my work. he seemed satisfied with that answer. we talked more about the other books i bought though.

he said that people often leave things for reasons. maybe the nostalgia of these items for the previous owner had faded and given way to something crueler in their mind? or maybe they never got to make up their mind on any of it before they passed away. nostalgia is dependent on time passing, so people are bound to leave in that time. it reminded me of how fleeting life is.

i took the sheet of poetry and pasted it into my sketchbook. i annotated ontop of it

i initially wanted to analyse the action of throwing things away once you’ve lost interest in them, but i got distracted by the poetry.

anecdote of the jar _by wallace stevens

> about art intruding on the natural world. it got me thinking about all the photos that get printed out for the sake of nostalgia. eventually, people will ourgrow them. they get tucked away into an envelope on a shelf, and then discarded into the trash years later.

> i have never printed out photos, but i am guilty of owning a mass amount that my friends have printed out for me. i’ve carried them with me wherever i’ve moved throughout the years. but i am also a hoarder; i have never thrown anything away if it holds even a little bit of meaning to me. who am i to discard the things that make me, me?

> my mum has gotten me to throw away some things over the years though. somehow

never seek to tell thy love _by william blake

> this poem depicts a sad existence. you can read most of my thoughts on it above.

i then went on to think more on the concept of nostalgia and the emotions that surround it.

i decided to redraw some photos that evoked a feeling of nostalgia for me as a starting point. above are the originals.

may 2020
> done in black water-based ink and grey shadows in kuretake fudegokochi grey water-soluble ink.
> vaguely accurate but it was hard to grasp a sense of nostalgia from it. the inks didn’t bleed as much as i wanted as i added too much black in the sea before adding the grey.

nov 2020
> pencil, oil pastel and water-soluble wax pastels.
> this one defintely hits that nostalgia baseline. its rough and blurry. nothing is definite.

july 2007
> pencil, pentel sign pen in grey blue and pentel energel gel pen in aqua blue.
> as there are no clear bold lines, the result is a little more nostalgic. if i poured water on it, it might be even more nostalgic (i am not doing this).

nostalgia draws off of memory. so what memories are shared between the average person?

i wrote a list and then tried to draw them poorly on the right page. it is hard to read but the egg man and the chunky pencil drawings are an attempt at drawing in the way that my younger brother did when he was little.

i took this list forward and applied it to the film that i had scanned previously:

i drew on a set of images. the first strip was an initial setting of characters; a relationship. the second, a visual representation of them travelling together. the third a proof of cohabitation, and their lives merging.

i did draw a fourth of an argument but it didn’t feel right. that argument would be how the film got to be here, and wouldn’t be captured on it.

i then extended the image so that it was now landscape rather than portrait, allowing me to crop out the bottom half. i did add a difference layer with screen tone to the fourth just for consistency anyway.

i like the final product. it’s a bit all over the place, but i like the juxtaposition between the real scanned in film and the cartoon nature of my drawings. i wanted to highlight how people throw things away once theyre not needed, and this film now tells that.

for context, i never looked at the original images properly. i felt like i was intruding, and i was more interested in the physicality of it than the actuality.