Research blog
contemplations
early 2025
contemplations
early 2025
jan 22 2025
jan 31 2025
feb 6 2025
feb 25 2025
RESPECTFUL IGNORANCE
Recently, I traveled to Thailand to visit a Buddhist monastery for one week. Having been able to truly relax throughout the retreat, I found myself letting go of my social guards to the extent, that during one of the Dharma talks, I intuitively changed the collectively performed sitting position to lying down casually to feel more comfortable. I was soon approached by a nice sister who asked me to please sit up. I immediately felt shameful about what others could potentially understand as my disrespect towards the practice, the lay people, the monks, and the general tradition.
Personally, I find it extremely challenging to fully listen to someone for longer than one hour, most often impossible if the audience is not interacted with. If I did not feel the pressure of fulfilling social expectations, I would prefer to move my body and stretch to focus better. Such experience is not exceptional, average focus levels start decreasing after 20 minutes and physical activity is positively correlated to higher attentiveness for both neurodivergent and neurotypical individuals.
In closer relationships, unreservedness, candor, and emotional and physical relaxation are socially read as a sign of trust or even love. Instead of concentrating one’s energy on appearing polite, the efforts should lie in truly listening by prioritizing the facilitation of one’s own attentiveness. Instead, the established narrative emphasizes a power dynamic in which the speaker is disconnected from the audience, disregarding the needs of the present moment. At least to some degree, individuals should be granted the freedom and trust to take care of themselves, encouraging a collective practice of active listening and participation. Practically speaking, I hereby challenge myself to overcome my personal ‘respectful ignorance’ by prioritizing my own physical and psychological needs, and thus my listening practice, and by identifying any related internalized feelings of shame when they arise.
How many hours a day do I spend pretending to listen?At what age did I start developing this skill?Can I survive without it?How much can I listen to?Is it sometimes necessary to be able to not listen?What should I listen to?
№1
jan 22
jan 22
INFINITE NEEDS SYNCING
Within this ongoing life experience, one might struggle with identifying and meeting all the needs of one’s mind and body to maintain good mental and physical health for oneself and one’s loved ones. Especially in the digital age, where the individual can simultaneously access more media than the human brain could potentially process in a lifetime, and information exchange is generally accelerated, I find myself constantly overwhelmed by my life experience. Thus, I understand ‘the everyday’ as an endless process of reflecting on such discomforts and trying to readjust one’s behavior accordingly. For example, my daily life as a university student does not facilitate healthy movement and I keep struggling with finding the time and energy to exercise.
Critical artworks should remind us to wake up from our daily routines and reassess our needs of the here and now. For me, I would prefer a piece to actively interrupt my everyday, challenge me out of this comfort zone of repetition and habit, and invite me to be a bit more vulnerable to myself. If the involvement with the piece is fun and enjoyable, even better!
№2
jan 31
jan 31
INTENTION SWAPPING
Constantly occupied and distracted by external responsibilities, many find it challenging to make time to act on their bigger intentions that we know are relevant: e. g. taking care of our bodies by exercising, spending time with family and loved ones we currently do not appreciate enough, coming back to an old hobby that gives us joy, overcoming a certain fear. Instead of relying on an external community to tackle one’s own “goals”, this art project invites participants to borrow the intentions of others to:
- disconnect from the fixated individualistic notion of self-optimization
- find joy in the aspirations of others and the interconnectedness
- reflect on what/how external conditions shape our “goals”
- explore how goals can be reframed to serve the collective self instead of answering structural expectations of moral/social capital
- discuss the notion of “progress” and “success”
- reflect on the project itself
By reframing progress as a shared, relational process rather than an individualistic pursuit, participants are encouraged to critically examine the structures that inform their desires. Ultimately, the project seeks to destabilize dominant narratives of success while promoting more inclusive, community-centered forms of self-development.
Within this concept, participants are granted great freedom in interpreting such intentions and how to work on them in their everyday lives. A serious treatment of their involvement should be encouraged. However, the risk remains that individuals will either not show interest in their intentions or understand the task as a mere game, not truly challenging themselves in their own way. To mitigate this, the act of documenting their progress can serve as both a personal accountability measure and a creative practice, encouraging participants to engage more thoughtfully with the borrowed goal while shaping their own narrative through the lens of their camera.
№3
feb 6
feb 6
REFLECTIONS ON “CHRONICLE OF A SUMMER” (1961)
- more risk-friendly when it comes to the material’s textual trajectory,
- encouraging my subjects to take action themselves and create collaboratively, and
- generally more process-oriented.
However, I’m now working on a personal project for my documentary class and find myself struggling to practically implement these objectives. In this context, and in light of my art proposal, I want to reflect on the nature of this challenge and explore what valuable lessons I can adapt for my own artistic practice.
While Jean Rouch and Edgar Morin clearly initiate the film’s production, providing a loose framework for participants to engage with (such as street interviews or group screenings of collected footage as a starting point), the direction of the conversation ultimately rests with the participants themselves. They’re not passive subjects but active co-creators, capable of steering the narrative and even challenging the filmmakers’ assumptions. This dynamic feels particularly instructive for my current documentary work, where I often grapple with the tension between guiding the narrative and allowing subjects to shape it organically. Similarly, Intention Swapping invites participants to adopt each other’s goals and document the process in their own way, without any expectation of success or neatly packaged conclusions. The documentation itself becomes an extension of this dialogue—less about proving progress and more about making internal experiences visible. In my personal documentary work, I’m drawn to similar themes, but the process often feels less fluid. There’s always the temptation to intervene, to direct the story toward something more polished or narratively satisfying. There’s no guarantee of coherence, and the final outcome might feel unfinished or fragmented. But maybe that’s where the real potential lies.
Like the fragmented truths captured in Chronicle of a Summer, Intention Swapping resists the idea that self-improvement is a private pursuit. Instead, it foregrounds the messiness of shared experience—the way personal goals are shaped by structural conditions, from capitalist productivity standards to gendered expectations. By inviting participants to navigate someone else’s desire, the project doesn’t just ask, “Can you achieve this task?” but rather, “Why does this task matter in the first place? Whose values are you fulfilling?”
Ultimately, Chronicle of a Summer reminds me that the most honest work often emerges not from control but from trust in the process, in the participants, and in the beauty of unanswered questions. That’s the mindset I hope to put into practise in the future.
№4
feb 25
feb 25
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