FIELD OF INQUIRY    

Creative Research Journal
Transart PhD Program



I knew little what I was undertaking, and perhaps it was better not to have realized too many difficulties that would bar the way...As it was, I set to work, brave in the strength of ignorance of what was before me.

- Mary Louise McLaughlin, potter (1847-1932)



Journal Guidelines


7 A 24 A-B PROJECTS SHARD I 

First raku firing at the end of March. Trip to New Brighton to visit Terry and see UK spring into bloom before surgery May 7. First “Shards” session with Karl Burkheimer through A-B Projects. 

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The Rodina, Design Museum London, 2019


30-31 M 24 INTENSIVE

PhD March Session
COMMUNICATION DESIGN AS PERFORMATIVE WORLD-MAKING

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2nd week of March, the 150 with Lulu
15 M 24 JOURNAL

Misogyny and man-ness and misunderstanding, oh my.
With some Mary Poppins for good measure.

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capture/nature (1) summer 2023
28 F 24 JOURNAL

Advisory meeting with Tracey (2). Catch-up on percolations for revised PAF.  Research poetry, arts-based qualitative data-analysis - exciting to apply to Capture \ Nature project.

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18 F 24 JOURNAL

Spore Space Gallery, Ojai
Lamp Show! July 2, 2023
Description of project & reflection.

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05 F 24 JOURNAL

Bed Island Day XXX. “Monster Storm.” Things I’ve made since I got the diagnosis, got the (first) surgery, got home from the mental and physical breakdown which was my holiday trip, and started getting out of bed, or off the chair.

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15 M 24
JOURNAL


DEUS:   088/26812—81
REX-13: 978-0882681/283I’ll be honest, the past few weeks have kind of sucked. It was raining, which I loved. Because it gave me the excuse to hibernate, which I was doing anyways. Things were getting done - the painters were painting, and the Farrow & Ball paints I chose are perfect, which makes me happy. I still haven’t decided on flooring. The wallpaper came in - love. It’s all moving along. But there is a lot of admin to do with the health stuff, and I just haven’t felt like myself. And then there is the fighting with loved ones about things that seem like they shouldn’t need to be fought about - things like misogyny, or the need for addressing communication patterns to amend and get ahead of angry conflict, or the desire to learn how to repair after rupture.

All this makes me exhausted, because I don’t have any reserves right now. I am at the fine grain sandpaper edge of my skin, and I’m dehydrated because of all the gd tears. Which is annoying becuase it‘s all I want to avoid, these emotional breakdowns - I want to be fine and fine and fine so I can try to get my strength back. But also - if you send me something misogynistic and tell me it’s not, I can’t help but rise to the bait.

Isn’t this the problem though, right now. I had a recent call with a friend - more than one, actually, now that I think of it, which is unusual because I have been dodging calls with a vengeance - where he said, There are so many huge problems now, we’ve got to get involved! But where do we begin! And I said what I have been saying to myself since Covid ended and I got off the trauma train. I’m going one-to-one from now on. What can I do, today? Who can I give a smile to, a kind word, who can I support and tell them that they’ve got this, when they look as tapped out as I feel? What kids can I give a little nudge of validation to? Who can I be frank with? How can I reinforce compassion and caring and empathy and boundaries every day in my life?

My friend today said, There is no integrity anymore. And I disagreed. There is integrity. I see it all the time. But the media machine and the politicians and the warmongers, they don’t want us peons to connect through compassion and believe in each other. It’s easier to dwell in despair. But it means we need to give ourselves and each other a break - even when we vehemently disagree, take a step back, take a page from crip-time and The Nap Ministry and opt out when we need to. Be an example for other people that they, too, can lower their cortisol levels and go hide out for a while from all the fight-or-flight.

I’m coming off a good solid acute bash of fight-or-flight. Mostly fight. And it didn’t feel good. It sucked all the creative energy right out. Despair despair despair. But those reminders will come, no matter how much we know better. So I am recovering this week, and next week I will keep going.

The land is profuse and profound with greens and blues and oranges. The lake is full to the brim with healthy blue water. The earth is dark red clay, burnt umber, bear brown. This is as moist as Southern California gets, and I am soaking it in - because drought will come again, sooner than we think. For now, I am going to try to revel in this dreaming, drowning spring, even if it’s just from the windows of my house. Maybe I’ll take a hike. Maybe I’ll go to the riverbottom. I know I’ll get some good out of it. But sometimes, one just needs to wallow. Sometimes, even what feels good for you feels like too much. j

And maybe, as in my favorite Jesca Hoop song...

w a t e r  i s  m o v i n g  u n d e r g r o u n d



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