ARTWORK IN FOCUS: giant Endometrioid Epithelial Ovarian Carcinoma made by sarah-jane

Inspired by our research into the Wellcome Collection’s votives, our LGBTQ Gynae Stories group created their own versions under the tuition of ceramicist Bev Meyer. Throughout this project I’ve become increasingly interested in how images and mark making can inclusively share stories, and so it felt fitting to bring Bev into the project with her experience (see workshop one and two blogs for more about the process).

Drawing on the group member’s lived experience, what LGBTQ+ gynae health means to them individually, and the conversations we’ve had whilst exploring the Wellcome Collection, everyone designed and made their own votives. Although we all made something different, the initial idea was to make our pieces roughly the same size - so that they could be collectively displayed as one coherent piece.

Sarah-Jane made palm-sized votives but also wanted to produce something different. So she worked with Bev over several extra sessions to realise her idea. I’m so glad we were able to make this happen; the process was so powerful and the work is incredible. This is her story behind the process, and Bev’s reflections on working with Sarah-Jane. Thank you to both for sharing your experience, you are both incredible humans. (Please note that this blog shares how we’re taking a care-focused approach to our work to keep group members safe).

Sarah-Jane’s ‘Giant Endometrioid Epithelial Ovarian Carcinoma’ votives: in her own words

“Rather than a votive that fitted in the palm of my hand, I wanted to make something that had grown inside me, not an organ or body part but My Cancer, more specifically the 4kg 20cm ovarian tumour that had sat within my abdomen, crushing my bowel, stopping me from breathing properly as it was allowed to spread and grow. Since my diagnosis, I've shared with medical students and Healthcare Professionals across the world how the symptoms of an advancing ovarian cancer and womb cancer were dismissed by every Doctor that I asked for help, instead of hearing my symptoms I was told the same thing “it’s because you’re fat” and “just lose weight” while I was in pain with a giant tumour and gynae cancers advancing inside me until a doctor who looked like me listened. I’ve thought a lot about the day it was discovered, both lifesaving and life changing, it was the first time any doctor had examined me, as soon as she touched me, she could feel it, hours later I was in A&E having an emergency CT scan asking the radiographer if he had “found a monster in there” little did I know that he actually had.  

We don't often get to see our tumours or the parts of our bodies that our cancers have grown in mine was removed during 8 hours of surgery as well as a whole shopping list of organs it was attaching itself to and smothering, diseased and discarded taking with it my fertility and pleasure, samples kept for future reference and research, the only remnants of my entire reproductive system housed in hospital records instead of my body. I think that’s why I wanted to make a replica of my tumour in clay, something physical reclaiming everything that was taken from me. I wasn’t sure it was possible to replicate the same size, shape and weight of my tumour in clay, I’d managed to find a ball of floristry foam with the same 20cm diameter, I swallowed hard as I picked it up from the shelf trying to comprehend just how big it was, remembering the physical and psychological pain it had caused me and angry that I’d carried this inside me for more than 2 years while the Doctors blamed my fat body.

From weighing out the clay in the studio supported by ceramic artist Beverly Meyer it’s been an emotional and healing process, using different techniques to make the right size and shape, every stroke shaping it felt personal, overcoming the limitations of the clay by making more than one in case they didn’t survive the firing process mirroring the fragility and vulnerability I felt when I heard the words “too advance to cure” and that my life was limited by cancer. At times I was overwhelmed, consumed by what they represented; the trauma of treatment, thoughts of my mortality and a deep sadness, grieving the person I was before cancer. I sat gently holding each one while I burnished them, my hands cupping it in the same protective way I would hold my tummy to help soothe the pain I was experiencing, scared by how delicate they were, not wanting to cause them any harm as I recreated the smooth surface that was a characteristic of my tumour type.

While it was confronting to be able to hold something that has made such a massive impact on my life it’s also created a deeper love and appreciation for a body that everyone judges and perceives as wrong, not deserving of love, compassion or even life. During treatment my body was dehumanised and demonised by the healthcare professionals whose job it is to care, constantly told how my fat body would fail me to the point of being petrified and having panic attacks that I would die during a surgery I couldn’t not have, presumptions that because I’m fat my heart wasn’t strong enough to survive even though I had walked, swam and still lived my life while carrying a 4kg mass that was killing me, only ever stopping as my body felt the fatigue from my cancer advancing.

Given what they represent and the trauma its caused me for the past 6 years it feels wrong to describe them as beautiful but to me they are and so much more; a heartbreaking reminder of the many times my body was shamed and blamed for the symptoms I was experiencing, a life and body changed forever by gynae cancer, unseen, not heard, invisible until it was too big to be missed now taking up space, being held, giving comfort and telling my story long after I’m gone just like the votives that inspired our group.”

Bev’s experience of working with Sarah-Jane: in her own words

“It has been such an honour to be asked to help Sarah Jane create her tumours in clay. From the moment we met, I immediately felt at ease with her. Her compassion and determination to share her story in the hope of making a difference for others is truly inspiring.

Being involved in this project has taught me so much—not only through listening to Sarah's experiences, but also by being introduced to the world of gynaecological healthcare and the inequities that exist within it. It has been both eye-opening and deeply moving.

With my guidance, Sarah has created a body of profoundly poignant work. As she shaped each tumour in clay, describing them with her hands while talking through her lived experience, I witnessed something incredibly powerful. Those conversations and the process of making together have left a lasting mark on me.

My hope is that these works will be seen, held and experienced alongside Sarah's story by medical students, oncologists, general practitioners and others working in healthcare. To hold Sarah's clay tumours is something remarkable. They are a testament to her bravery, compassion and tenderness. Like Sarah herself, they speak quietly yet carry immense urgency in their message.

I have loved getting to know Sarah through this process. Sharing conversations about my own experiences of medical trauma, and reflecting on how I might tell my own story through clay, has created a bond that I know I will always carry with me. Sarah is an extraordinary person, and I hope as many people as possible have the opportunity to see, hold and learn from her work.”

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This participatory research and socially engaged project is being delivered in collaboration with the Wellcome Collection.

Image credits (below): process photographs showing the making of the pieces, taken by Marge, Bev and Sarah-Jane.