I like the interaction and the conversation, but as I start to talk about the research I find myself losing the thread of what it is actually about.
In the thesis I need to add in more explicit information about process, troubling the relationship between theory and practice.
The interview process was weird because I thought I would present myself in a certain way and I feel I got caught up with trying to analysing the questions I was asked – I didn’t grasp the situation and find a way to talk about what I wanted to talk about, but maybe because I hadn’t defined that for myself? I had also wanted to give people my postcard and I forgot that too.
I think my ambivalence about whether I want to be in academia was also colouring how I approached it. I wonder how good I am at identifying what my transferable skills are? I think I get stuck in thinking I don’t fit!
Oh my God she is caught rabbit in the headlights
“So what are the three words that start your profile on the sex dating website?” she cannot or will not let herself remember, this crosses a line from anonymity to traceable evidence. She says she will look and she does later in the privacy of a quiet and sleeping house. But what interests her is why that detail is important to the person asking the question the words are ordinary it is in the describing of the process that they are imbued with a magical power to pull men toward her –It interests her that the developing conversation feels like it goes deeper, people talk with a greater intimacy about their own life experiences. Does that relate to her risk taking to say something that could be judged but she chose to say it anyway? She would like to think so.
The last day we are set the fifty word challenge to describe our research, mine evolves through good attention and listening by Lisa Ballard, our reciprocal sessions have the intensity of a therapeutic encounter:
Who is in the empty chair?
Death, grief and loss- What is missing from this body of research?
Revealing the intimate and the personal in a place where subjectivity is not valued gives permission for an authentic exchange to tell stories of grief and taboo and risk expulsion.