A rollercoaster through yourself. The rain monotonously pounds on the floor-to-ceiling window, obscuring the twinkling lights of the city. Murmurs disperse across the room...
You are captured – taken to shore and tumbled out onto the sand, seaweed in your hair, under the spell of Maggie Rogers.
The crooning chant you hear in the background pings and pangs as you slump on the floor, hands in your head.
After calling out to the members of the audience who had ever experienced mental turmoil, or just emotional struggles as a whole, the rollicking beauty of steady electric guitar along with the angelic high pitched crooning of Sultana, the flash light on thousands of phones swayed in time to a truly memorable cacophony of sound.
If this music was represented in colour, the canopies of the African jungle would be peeled back, revealing the beauty of the sweaty noise.
This is pure Zen, a meditative state that is what the sunny season is all about, and what fuels people through hardships and difficulties. This is the art of healing and revelling.