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Essentially, a letter of no importance

My Love, my heart, my home,

My art does not speak to you, I have failed.  

I seek some empathy for today is the 82nd day since the theatres have gone dark, and many more days of darkness are ahead of us, even as the rest of you begin to step out into a new normal. The time remains dark for us, and we’re desperate for light. But instead of thinking about that, I have sent out the horsemen to fight a battle of opinion, using truth as the weapon.

I am sorry that I have pushed us into a dead end in my response, by ignoring your blindness, by insisting that by a uni-dimensional standard, I am worthy. 

And, so, now, I ask, what if, what you say is true? 

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An Essay about Southernmost Festival 2019

As an observer of Southernmost and writing this response essay, I found myself asking a nagging question – Why should a handful of international artists gather, spending our carbon footprint, to verbalize and analyse the experience of meeting the Other?

I propose two frames in this essay to help deepen the analysis of my question: 1) Tranculturalism; and the more cynical sounding 2) clash of civilisations.

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