The full-on process of building this 'site' has led me to the thought that maybe I am Building MY OWN Brain.
A. ART ON PIPER: REEL ON REEL, JENNY HICKINBOTHAM'S EXHIBITION TILL 14 JULY
B. MS PLYMOTH ROCK & HER BABIES
C. DUCKS AT HOME
A. MELAS PSYCHOLOGY REPORT SUPPORTING NDIS APPLICATION
B. JENNIFER HICKINBOTHAM RESEARCH PROPOSAL
C. TWO BIBLIOGRAPHIES FROM 2020 AND 2019
My research project explores the idea of the artist’s self as praxis, the mind/body/brain dialectic as the site of both making & researching. The self as both subject of, & subject to, the unfolding work, explored through my own personal research & growth in the context of social & cultural practises.
This section details feedback from supervisors, as well as appointments with psychologist and other supports relating to my praxis.
My high level of stress/hearing voices was activating my Polyvagal nervous system, Agitation, irritability, high activation and high energy, were reflective of my fight/flight sympathetic system, by slowing down, breathing, walking, grounding my body I activated the parasympathetic side, achieving balance.
In this book, philosopher Markus Gabriel challenges an increasing trend in the sciences towards neurocentrism, a notion which rests on the assumption that the self is identical to the brain. Gabriel raises serious doubts as to whether we can know ourselves in this way. In a sharp critique of this approach, he presents a new defense of the free will and provides a timely introduction to philosophical thought about the self – all with verve, humour, and surprising insights.
Jenny has experienced psychotic symptoms during the two weeks leading up to assessment of her Creative Works. Listen to each day's experiences/feelings/awarenesses.
My project this year is to build a brain. Well, this morning, I figured out that I am building my own brain. I know I have claimed my body as the site of praxis, where the research and creative practise come together, I believe this to be more accurate than ever. My psychosis continues: this morning I got up very agitated at 6am, cause the psychiatrist had been talking in my head all night, I understand that perhaps she doesn't know she's doing this, or perhaps I am triggering her, however, at 6am she accused me of taking on my brother's identity. I am really over this 'therapy' treatment, sure I engaged with all of this and apparently we counselled and moved ten or more identities out of my psyche. Angrily I advised my psychiatrist that I had been on the phone to my brother the day before, that he intends coming on holiday with me and my friend later in July and that I do NOT need her telling me who I am. I do not take on identities anymore, I did it in the past as a survival strategy dealing with my mother and her atrocities against me, I pretended to be various people, trying to put mother off. It never worked, but I got relief. I go on to tell my psychiatrist that I don't want to see her any more that she has provided me with all the awareness and skills to manage my own health and on top of that I have a good trauma therapist in Melas. At the kitchen sink I hear her again, are you going to harm yourself? OH, goodness, of course not, and don't you remember that you told me, in relation to my NDIS application that you believe I am not at risk any more. Please, believe me, I can manage my own mental health NOW. Please, I have been building this mental awareness over two decades, I am ready to graduate, please, please let me go. I want to use my newly built brain, on my art project, showing how I Built a Brain.
The Guest Room: 'connection' series videos, plus circle paintings
Five eggs hatched on 31st Jan 2020, all were girls except one, lavender aracuana, as I live in town i am not allowed to keep roosters so I sold him and his sister, the others are light sussex, black copper maran and one more lavender aracuana. I bought fertilised eggs.
There are six ducks, four are Indian Runners, the male is the very colourful one. The other two ducks are Appleyard x Pekins, one male, he's bigger, and one female. The four girls lay 2 to 4 eggs per day. They sleep in a converted wood shed, safe from predators. They eat, pellets, plus corn, wheat and sunflower seeds, fruit and vegetable scraps and shell-grit. They love to swim in their kiddie pool.
My 24 hours are structure at both ends of the middle, by poultry. I wake up and let the poultry out, I have between three and five coops depending on how many have babies. I feed them, first corn/wheat/sunflowerseed mix, then layer pellets in all-day accessible containers. I clean their water pools and drinking containers, I also clean their nests/coop spaces. I give them fresh food scraps, like lettuce, cabbage, cauliflower (cuts offs) anything else that's in the apple boxes I ask for at the supermarkets. The ducks love to swim and they have kids dabbling pools. At dusk I feed them again, a mix of pollard with kibble, cut fruit and water. Regularly I add Greek yoghurt, garlic, oregano, seaweed, vitamin B. On a full moon I give them Super Mash, it's got all the preventatives, that keep away mites, lice, worms, etc. As the sun sets I lock them into their coops. So far, I have fooled the fox, the cats, the rats, every time except once, when foxey got six chickens, devastating.
As my psychologist advises, this activity helps to ground me, in the mornings it moves me on from my night time of abuse. My two dogs are also a wonderful distraction and a great support for my emotional and physical life experience.
22/6/20 Australian Government has today announced an increase in the cost of Arts and Humanities University courses. I respond to this statement with despair, art is all that has given me life, given me focus and subsequently identity. Had i heard this diabolical statement a year ago, I would have commenced to sing, 'bang bang Maxwell's silver hammer came down on my head, bang bang Maxwell's silver hammer made sure I was dead'. This was how my mind has found solace, defence as well as action in the constant barrage of abuse directed at me. The Gov's advise informs me that I am to be bashed down, bashed down, into the ground, back into my burrow back into silence, they want to punish me for choosing Arts (this reaction reflects my abusive mother relationship). The same silence that has been forced upon me by family, friends and colleagues, over decades of life experience. The same silence that forces me to dissociate in order to function to study, to work, to engage socially, to perform in an acceptable manner for family and their friends. The same silence that I have recently shattered and broken free from, that same silence I now refuse to accept. Yes I am an artist and I will speak. I will speak about all the atrocities our government and it's empowered elect impose on me and my peer citizens, rendered voiceless by abuse, by family, by community, by Governments.