In this experiment I attempted to experiment with the function and process of mincing through self-analysis. When creating mince, it is the TRIMMINGS of the animal that are extruded through a mincer (snout, tail, muscle, intestines, heart, liver, kidneys, and more!): in short, not the prime cuts of meat but parts of the animal which transfer its ESSENCE into a package of mince; enough so as to be able to recognise the animal from whence it came.
---------> From this point I began to think: what would HUMAN trimmings look like? And, more specifically, what would MY trimmings look like?

So for a week I collected items which I believed to carry my own essence.
This is what I collected:
- Finger nails
- Hair gathered from a brush
- Used tissue
- Cigarette butts from my ashtray
- A diary I had just finished
- The oldest sock I could scrounge
- A cutting from my most beloved plant
- Recent take-away coffee cup

What would happen when I combined and minced these together? Would I be mincing myself and would I somehow be able to capture the essence of me?


1. Collect the following items from around your home (easy!): finger nail clippings, all the hair you can pull free from your sink or brush, a very recently soiled tissue (the fresher the better), all the cigarette butts from your most used/least emptied ashtray (combine if you have more than 1!), a diary preferably containing your deepest and darkest secrets, a sock so sweat-drenched sock so old its fibres are only just able to still cling together, a recent take-away coffee cup which ideally has your name/ coffee of choice, a cutting from the only plant you've managed not to kill/ completely neglect.


2. Combine and roughly chop these ingredients together (this will save you straining your mincer!)


3. Pass through mincer until all ingredients have been worked and passed through a fine-medium sized mincing plate.
HOT TIP: Remember to save the juice, this is where the real flavour lies! ;)


I found the process of mincing, and subsequently packaging MYSELF confronting: what was generated was a sloppy pile, stinking of old tobacco and sweat (nb: old socks retain an incredible amount of liquid) - but for all its hideousness I had developed an emotional attachment to it; it was, in essence ME.