This project feels like the culmination of my studies so far. It built naturally from our last collaboration, but this time the process felt more balanced and genuinely collaborative from the very beginning. In our previous project, Josh responded to my sound work towards the end—but with this one, we were both involved right from the start, which allowed the work to evolve more organically. That early involvement created a sense of shared ownership and mutual investment that I think really shows in the final piece.
One of the most rewarding aspects was letting the project take on a life of its own, stepping back from rigid planning and allowing space for spontaneity. In the past, I’ve gone into projects with fixed ideas that I felt I needed to execute exactly as imagined—almost like ticking off boxes rather than being in the moment. This time, I deliberately tried to be more open to change, and that mindset shift made the whole process less stressful and more enjoyable. It taught me to trust the process rather than trying to control it. The piece developed through a series of conversations, creative detours, and experiments, and that gave it a kind of authenticity I hadn’t experienced through collaboration. Instead of pushing a specific vision or agenda, we focused on what felt right for the piece in each moment. That meant combining all our interests and skill sets—sound, video, drawing, physical media, poetry, movement, bookbinding—and seeing the interesting ways they could intersect.
Even though our actual meetings were limited due to conflicting schedules and other commitments, each one felt productive and energising. We’d leave our sessions with new ideas, renewed motivation, and a clear sense of direction. Compared to other group projects or collaborations I’ve been part of, this one felt far less forced because of how naturally our ideas bounced off each other. The creative process felt fluid and intuitive, and that made a huge difference to both the outcome and the overall feel of the project. I found myself looking forward to working on it, which hasn’t always been the case with past projects.
A big takeaway for me was the importance of having fun with the process. There was a real sense of freedom in the “what if we try…” moments—those small sparks of curiosity that can lead to something surprising and beautiful. There was very little overthinking, which allowed the piece to retain a kind of playfulness while still feeling deeply personal and meaningful. I think this lightness and openness comes, in part, from both of our shared appreciation for eastern philosophies, particularly Taoism. Over the years, the concept of Wu Wei has become a kind of creative anchor for me. Wu Wei, which loosely translates to “effortless action” or “non-doing,” doesn’t mean passivity, but rather acting in harmony with the flow of the moment. It’s about allowing things to unfold naturally instead of trying to force them. I’ve found this principle incredibly valuable in my creative practice—it reminds me to listen, to respond rather than control, and to let go of perfectionism.
Another key reason the collaboration worked so well was the deep creative trust between us. There was no sense of ego or competition—just a shared curiosity. If one of us had an idea, the other would build on it or shift it in a way that made it stronger. It felt like a true conversation between our practices, rather than a negotiation. That mutual respect allowed us to take risks without fear of judgement, creating a safe space for experimentation. That sense of safety—and the project’s title, safeplace—also connects to the physical setting: Richmond Park, which serves as a sanctuary for both of us away from busy city life.
This was only my second time editing video—the first being way back in college. Using DaVinci Resolve was definitely challenging at first, I had to learn a lot through trial and error. But by the end of the project, I felt like I had developed a strong foundation in editing—and more importantly, I felt inspired to keep going. I now see video editing as a key part of my future creative practice. I’m especially interested in using it to create self-released CDs, DVDs, and online pieces. To keep the process fresh and fun, we even decided to edit our own versions of the video separately without showing each other until we both felt they were “finished.” Then, we looked at them side by side and combined the strongest elements from both to make a final cut that we were both happy with. It reminded me of how two different perspectives can enrich a single piece.
The time spent crafting the DVD booklet was a great way to close out the project. It brought everything together into a tangible, physical form and felt like a proper celebration of what we’d made. In an increasingly digital world, creating something handmade felt significant. Holding a physical object that we had shaped ourselves—through drawing, printing, folding, binding—gave the work a sense of permanence and intimacy that’s often missing from screen-based projects. It also gave me a renewed appreciation for physical media, and confirmed how important that tactile element is to my wider practice.
What excites me most is how many new ideas this project sparked for future exploration—everything from self-publishing CDs and DVDs to more collaborations, or even hosting a small film screening festival. This project confirmed my desire to pursue interdisciplinary work that blends sound, visuals, movement, and physical media in unexpected ways. It feels like I’ve found a creative direction that really resonates with me, and I’m already sketching out ideas for new projects. I want to continue developing both my solo work and collaborative practice in the years to come. More than anything, this project reminded me that creativity doesn’t have to be a struggle—it can be joyful, surprising, and deeply collaborative when approached with openness and curiosity.
