One Voice and a pair of Eyebags

Unavoce 2005 was an experience, for me, the event was about the 'existence' of oneself and being surrounded by these new/old faces around me. Some people do expect something from a festival, especially when you have to pay a certain amount to be jarred/drilled/sedated/seduced by the sound created by the artists.

Yet again, Substation is no longer the new cool, but a space for new mistakes to be made and old desires to fulfill. UnaVoce is ahead of its time, and Zai Kuning unofficially reflects the aura of The Guiness Theatre.

For myself, I see 'performance' has exhausted its ways one too many. I am going back to basics, and I am going back to where I've had left, the drawing board all over again. In an event like this, what I cherish most are normally the conversations I had with loads of people from the pionners/legends, Big Feet, the boy who loves to draw, Mr I-Need-My-quiet-moment, Mr Pensive Pink Ark and many more.

The warmth and fluffiness conversations overwhelmed the technical savageness of diligency, exponential and delinquency.

I am not sure where am I heading next, but definitely not in the presence of lights and shadows.

Zul invited me partly because he wanted a variety of artists of different aptitudes vying on to the same degree of the event itself. Disappointment can sometimes be a slap on the face with swirling stars, droning sound waves and haunting feedbacks.

This is just another chapter, we have yet to reach the introduction.