Reflection on Research, Observation and Emerging Ideas
Working through the Stage Three research material has encouraged me to think differently about both research and artistic practice. What interested me most was not simply the work that the artists produced, but the way they described their processes. Listening to them speak about collecting ideas, allowing work to become messy, following unexpected directions, reflecting on what they had made, and gradually understanding where it was leading them felt very familiar. It reminded me that research is not always a linear journey from question to answer. Often it begins with curiosity, observation and a willingness to remain open to what emerges.
One of the most valuable aspects of this research has been understanding how different artists engage with the world around them. I became particularly interested in how ideas develop through interaction with people, places and experiences. Often it is not a grand event that creates inspiration, but a simple conversation, a passing observation, or an unexpected way of looking at something familiar.
A memory that returned to me during this process was of my son when he was very young. We were looking at a manta ray swimming through the water, and he simply said, “Look, it’s flying.” At the time it seemed like a child’s observation, but it remained somewhere in my memory. Revisiting it now, I realise how powerful that statement was. A manta ray does not walk across the seabed. It moves through water in a way that resembles a bird moving through air. It inhabits a different world, yet its movement echoes something familiar.
This observation has opened a series of thoughts that connect strongly with my current project. Birds, migration, travel and movement have already become recurring themes within my work. The idea that fish are, in a sense, flying through their own environment adds another dimension to this narrative. Air and water become parallel worlds. The creatures that inhabit them move, migrate, search, survive and navigate their environments, yet each remains largely unaware of the reality experienced by the other.
I find myself thinking about how this relates to human experience. Different cultures, countries and societies can exist in much the same way. China and Europe, for example, occupy the same world yet often feel like entirely different dimensions, each with its own language, values, rhythms and ways of understanding life. People travel between them, just as birds cross continents and fish move through oceans, carrying stories and experiences from one environment into another.
The more I reflect on these ideas, the more I realise that research is not simply the gathering of information. Research creates connections. It encourages unexpected relationships between memories, places, images and observations. It is a process of remaining attentive to the world and allowing ideas to grow over time.
This became particularly apparent during my visit to Holy Island. There I encountered a bird-like structure mounted on a pole, exposed to the wind and elements. I continue returning to this image because it seems to contain a contradiction that I find difficult to ignore. The pole supports the bird and allows it to rise above the landscape, yet it also anchors it to a fixed point. It is simultaneously a source of freedom and a form of restriction. The image speaks to me because it mirrors many aspects of life. Work, responsibility, travel and even creativity can provide opportunities while also creating limitations.
At this stage of the project, I feel increasingly comfortable with not having all the answers. What I have learned from these artists and from my own observations is that creative practice often grows through uncertainty. Ideas emerge gradually through looking, listening, thinking and making connections. Research is not something that happens separately from life; it is woven into everyday experiences. A photograph, a landscape, a conversation or a child’s observation can become the starting point for an entirely new way of thinking.
Perhaps this is what excites me most about the process. The work continues to evolve because the questions continue to evolve. Every journey, every encounter and every observation contains the possibility of opening a new path. In that sense, research never truly ends. It remains a perpetual act of discovery.
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