Ayisha Rahman is not a (self-proclaimed) poet, not even a musician. She is a one womyn theatre. She likes to talk to herself about shoes, duct tapes, and venting machines – the metaphorical ones, of course. She calls her allegorical words, her aural-verbal memories. Some are true, some are merely (non)fiction entries of her subconscious mind; mainly concerning on ‘self-diagnosed amnesia’, gender(s) and the strings that are attached to it. When she’s not reading her ‘subconscious mind’ out loud; she is an introvert delta year Digital Media student who fights her narcolepsy by feeding her ears with clever 70s-80s synth, and classic literature.
Fresh from the venting machine, the sleepwalker herself, will be performing poetry soundscape; (shy) satirical kabarett arpeggio-synth style – without tight-laced corset, fishnet stockings, or thunderbolt symbol on her face. (though you can never be too sure). She will be performing with her Baby K and random kiddies toys that she can get her hands on. Oh yes, her words come with lisp.
“The mental image is there, the dots of matrix aren't as accurate though”, says Ayisha.
No comments:
Post a Comment