This is the first in our two-part series in which I (Adrian) interview four contributors to Germination, Issue 01 of Teiresian. These four artists were gracious enough to offer me their time and energy to respond to a selection of questions. I wanted to gain insight into their thoughts and feelings behind their work, their creative process and what inspires them; and I wanted to learn a little more about them as individuals.
The first two interviews feature Dan Jones (she/they) and Sonny Walker (they/them).

Dan’s artwork, ‘Effeminacy’, takes up a gorgeous spread in Germination. It was an interesting piece to riso print at Unit 33 Studio, who reprinted it three times to get the colours just right. To find out more about risograph printing, follow this link to Unit 33’s page which offers a concise explanation of this form of print.
Dan is a self taught sculptor and prosthetics artist based in Manchester UK creating art that explores mental health and queer identity. Dan creates work that transforms the metaphysical into flesh, exploring emotional life through the body. ‘Effeminacy’ is inspired by the phallic yet feminine form of a lily flower’s reproductive organ and how such metaphor translates to trans feminine identity.
You can find Dan on Instagram @dan.mufx
When I saw ‘Effeminacy’ amongst the submissions for Germination, I was floored, and it didn’t take any time at all to decide I wanted to publish this piece. Like most of Dan’s work, ‘Effeminacy’ is provocative and challenging. It’s powerful in its simplicity, and thick with meaning. I had to interview Dan, to learn more about this piece and all of her work.
TEIRESIAN – What does the word ‘germination’ mean to you?
DAN JONES – The first thing that comes to mind when I think of germination is liberation and freshness; the birth of something new emerging from the carcass of the old.
T – What is it that drew you to sculpture and prosthetics as your preferred mediums of artistic expression?
D – My beginnings with prosthetic and sculptural work were humble in the form of Halloween costumes, but as the years went by I found sculpting to be the one place I could lose myself for hours in peace. I’ve also always been a shapeshifter, never liking to stay still with my appearance, which channels well into makeup world — when I was feeling very low I could transform myself into someone powerful and it has been a pleasure to do the same to other faces throughout my career.
T – ‘Effeminacy’ marries the body with nature in the most intimate way. What are your thoughts on the connection between the body (in particular the trans body) and nature?
D – The connection between nature and the trans body for me is intrinsic. Whilst working on the sculpt for effeminacy I was inspired by the sex organs of plants and how they are not defined as male or female but rather a combination of both. There are countless examples in the natural world where gender and sex binaries do not exist, and as a trans person I’ve found comfort in recognising that my experience is built into the fabric of the natural world rather than a perverse defiance of it.
T – Your artwork, in your words, ‘[explores] emotional life through the body’. What effect do you hope to achieve by depicting our emotional experience through the body?
D – The effect I hope to achieve by depicting the emotional experience through the body is one of personal catharsis and grounding. 4 years ago I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, a mental health diagnosis that describes having intense, unstable emotions; through tools of simulated violence and surrealism I aim to depict how debilitating yet euphoric those emotions can be with art that is visceral and shocking. I aim to ground concepts of the mental experience into physical “flesh” to make them more accessible and provoking to an audience.
My Dog Turned into a Pear Tree
This is all I can hope for when I die
For the Earth to reclaim me
Compost my flesh to food
For the plants
Harden my skin to bark
Into fruit or flowers or a home for the creatures
To melt away into the earth
As quietly as I walked itI don’t want to be remembered
by Sonny Walker
I want to nourish
I want to go home
‘My Dog Turned into a Pear Tree’ is one of four poems by Sonny featured in Germination.
Sonny is a Cornwall-based poet and novelist whose work primarily focuses on the self and the body, featuring themes such as queerness, sex, gore, trauma and healing. Their goal is to expose their wounds to their audience, creating an environment that values vulnerability and honesty in art, inspiring others to embrace their own ‘ugliness’ and rejecting conformity.
You can find Sonny on Instagram @homoerotten
Sonny was the first artist to submit to Germination, and by extension Teiresian as a whole. We were immensely lucky to have such a fantastic first submission — one that I couldn’t imagine saying no to! Their work is beautifully in tune with Teiresian, bursting with life and transformation.
TEIRESIAN – What does the word ‘germination’ mean to you?
SONNY WALKER – Regrowth and rebirth, specifically from the offcuts of what came before. Flora from flesh, bodies old turned young again through the act of reincarnation. Regrowth, rebirth and reincarnation are frequent themes in my work as a trans poet who likes to look at the process of transitioning not so much as a journey off the beaten path, but as a natural course of action: the death of the old self as a concept explored through natural imagery; a necessary sacrifice from which something sturdier, stronger, more beautiful can grow. Germination, to me, refers to the seeds I swallowed as a little girl in order to flourish into a more authentic version of myself.
T – How has the landscape where you grew up informed your work?
S – Most consider the landscape I live in to be a seaside town – a tourist destination, a cheap surfing holiday, so often casting aside the forests and grassy areas I prefer to frequent. Sand makes me feel sick and so I almost never refer to my living on an island unless I am complaining about it. However, there are a few more woodsy areas where I feel more at peace, more myself. Green is my favourite colour. I used to hike with a notebook and trip on loose pebbles. My grandparents used to have a beautiful garden with an array of flowers and herbs. We buried my first rabbit there. My childhood home had a pear tree under which we buried our dog. I was taught to associate peace and passing with lavender, mint and fruit.
T – A lot of your writing confronts emotions that we tend to shy away from, such as shame and desperation. What interest do you have in emotions that we wish we didn’t have, and why do you feel it’s important to address them in art?
S – From the beginning, I have aimed to share my deepest, most intimate, and even my ugliest thoughts and feelings through poetry. Perhaps it is the lack of boundaries, but I have never shied away from expressing things I feel ashamed of and never thought twice about publicising my sickness or selfishness. Poetry, to me, is therapy. I have no choice but to be honest. Although sometimes I feel embarrassed, especially when my friends and coworkers see me writing about, say, my sex life, my insecurities, and my mental health – airing these things in art and creation is still the best thing I have ever done for myself. I believe they understand and respect that.
And, possibly more cliche but no less true for that, I appreciate solidarity. I appreciate it when others express things that feel dirty or shameful, things that make people wince either in recognition or judgment. Nothing makes me feel safer. Creating that feeling for others motivates me to gut myself. I want to be visible for those who can’t and create a sense of community.
Finally, exposure of myself and my experiences creates a deeper understanding between myself and my audience. I’m well aware that for a lot of people in my life, I’m their only point of reference when it comes to transness. Therefore, I want them to take something away from what I have to say about it. I want them to understand on the deepest possible level. This isn’t to say that we owe allies an explanation or a dissection of ourselves, but it is how I like to share parts of myself with the world.
T – In one of your poems you talk about death, being ‘compost[ed]’ into food for plants and becoming a home for creatures. What are your views on death and its connection with birth?
S – It is a cycle we shouldn’t shy away from. Nothing is more natural than change and transformation, things coming to a stopping point and creating space and resources for other forms of life to grow. Energy is repurposed, never fizzling out but instead just becoming something else, like a relay race. You die, you pass on the baton. You become and become again and again, spend your whole life becoming.

