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十二月十八日（也是萌動比賽截稿的那天）
我去了由藝術家梁晞堯Ashley Leung演出的《藝術家被困》，但並非單純的觀眾，而是幫忙服務等候的觀眾和照顧藝術家的人。說實話，這是一個十分新穎的體驗，與作為表演者，和作為觀眾的感覺有很大的分別。關於作為表演者的體驗，可以到《曰城》後記集看看當時的感受。而觀眾方面，每次的體驗不同，在後文會提及我離開前成為這次表演的觀眾有甚麼感受。
表演場地的設置是這樣的：在天台的一角，在鐵欄之內一個白色的框中，坐着被保險紙包裹住的表演者，進籠的觀眾坐在表演者對面，與表演者對望。
這是我的第一次，感謝Ashley的邀請，我才有這個機會去從第三方角度去看待這次的表演。我到達場地的時候，表演尚未開始，在樓下與工作人員閒聊片刻之後便上了天台。那時她已經準備就緒，也正在被另一個幫忙的人用保險紙包裹。包裹完成之後，很快就開放給觀眾了。一開始只有兩個人到了天台，由於每次只可以一個人進入與藝術家對望，所以就有一個人先進了籠。他們對望，相視而笑，就像老朋友相遇重逢一般，我也是饒有趣味地看着兩者無聲的交流。約五分鐘後，觀眾Ａ便走了出來。觀眾Ｂ走了進去，也是這差不多三十多分鐘的對望，徹底改變了一切。
下一位觀眾坐下之後不用五分鐘，Ashley就開始哭了，準確來說，是兩個鐵籠內的人都哭了。我當時就在場，看着兩位女士無聲地對望着、哭着。彷彿觀眾忍受不了Ashley被包裹的樣子，走上前開始撕掉那些保鮮紙。Ashley哭得更慘了。過了一段時間，Ashley拿着保鮮紙，有些無奈，多次舉起保鮮紙團又放下。然後觀眾便解下外套的皮帶，再次把Ashley綁在椅子上。
半小時過去了，由於考慮到Ashley可能需要休息，另一名工作人員便讓觀眾先出來，讓她也平復一下心情。我拿着紙巾，走了進籠，她哭了足足半小時，哭到最後臉上都帶淚痕了。我缺乏照顧女生的經驗，一時間手忙腳亂，我抹眼淚和淚痕的手都抖得要緊，生怕弄痛她。回想起自己當時的模樣就有些好笑。
讓她休息片刻後，便繼續讓觀眾入籠，表演繼續。只是經過第二個觀眾的經歷後，我在籠外旁觀時的感受就有些改變了。籠內對望的，可能是朋友，可能是陌生人，在這無聲的對望之中，觀眾想着甚麼，她又想着甚麼？作為非觀眾非表演者的第三方，我嘗試從一個比較抽離的方式去看待這個表演。在規則與框架的限制下，表演者無法離開、無法移動；而觀眾的任何舉動，表演者都只能坐着，彷彿是被限制住。是被困，還是自我束縛的虛無框架？我不知道，我感受到的是在籠裏的她似有千言萬語想說，卻又不能說。
看着她與每一個人對視時的情緒波動，我感覺自己的情緒也被勾了起來，她哭，我心情也沉了下去；她笑，我也鬆了一口氣。即使那時我有些事需要處理，但用手機時目光卻不自覺地望向鐵欄之內的情況，也許我是慢慢也投入了她這次的表演吧。
我記得那是大約4點，當時在天台等候的觀眾都到樓下看影片放映了。那裏只剩下Ashley、我和另一個我也認識的幫手Josh。Josh趁沒有人，坐了進去，5分鐘的時間，他們時而相視而笑；時而安靜對望。
他出來之後我走了進去，關上鐵門。當我放下了旁觀者的身份，以觀眾的角度走進籠中，那又是另一番感受。我坐在Ashley對面，看着她的雙眼，竟有一刻是想逃避目光，不敢看她的雙眼。但我讓自己定了定神，重新看着她。我笑了，不知道為何，就是笑了。隔了一會兒，我伸出了手，她也伸出手回應。
鐵欄一道，彷彿隔絕了時空。鐵欄內的我看見了鐵欄外的觀眾，但腦海卻把他們都暫時移除了，那一刻，我腦海中只有坐在鐵欄之內的我和她。不知怎的，我有了一絲不想離開的想法，想跟這個她，再待一會兒。於是我抱住了她，就這樣靜靜的，擁抱着。
過了片刻，我知道該離開了。我站了起來，鞠了一躬，便拉開門。出來的那一刻，好像放下了什麼，又好像不見了什麼。我講不清，也看不透，那就不聽不看了。
感覺許多東西，都在這兩種感受之下完結：講不清、看不透。旁觀者，感受的是一樣；觀眾，感受的又是另一樣。彷彿我再說的話，那就失真了。
那麽就這樣了吧。以後再說。
Twelfth of December. (The day my competition need to be handed in.)
I went to the show ''The Artist is Trapped'' performed by artist Ashley Leung. Instead of being an audience, I was invited to help her to serve the audience and take care of her. To be honest, it is a brand new experience and a different feeling from being an audience or a performer. About the feeling of being a performer, please check out the epilogue of ''City of zero''. And about the feeling of being an audience, it variates between performances, but I will give a mention to being an audience before I leave the venue.
The setting of the performance venue is as below: At a corner on the rooftop, there is a rusty iron fence, and a white frame is put inside where the artist sits in there, being wrapped by plastic wrap. The audience goes in, sits at the opposite of the performer and look at each other.
A great honour to be invited by Ashley, granting me the chance to view the whole performance from a third-person perspective. The show haven't started when I arrived, so I chat for a bit with the staff before going to the rooftop. She was being wrapped up by another helper when I get to the top. At the start of the show, there were two visitors and as the show allows only one person in the cage each time, one of the visitors walked in. Inside the cage they looked at each other, they smiled, like old friends meeting each other after a long time. The first audience didn't stay long, he left after about five minutes. And it was where the show drastically changed after this period of gazing that was worth about 30 minutes.
In less than five minutes after the audience sat down, Ashley started crying. Both of them were crying to be accurate. I stood outside the cage observing, the two ladies having eye contact and crying, all silently. It seemed the audience could not take the fact that Ashley was being trapped and wrapped. She stood up and started tearing off the plastic wrap, Ashley cried even harder at this point. After the wrap is torn off, Ashley held on to the ball of wrap that the audience crumbled into, feeling a bit resigned. Knowing her frustration, the audience took off her belt from her jacket and tied her back to the chair.
After about half an hour, in consideration of the mental condition of Ashley, the staff called the audience to come out first so that she could take a rest and calm herself down. I took some tissue and walked in. Oh lord, she cried for a full half an hour, no wonder they say women are made of water. I was in a spin due to my lack of experience in taking care of girls. My hand was so shaky when I tried to wipe tears off her face as I am so afraid to hurt her accidentally. It's kinda funny now thinking of that.
She told us to continue after resting for a while. But my perspective of viewing the whole piece had changed. The one who was having eye contact with Ashley might be her friend, or might be just another stranger. Then in this silent gaze, what is the audience thinking, and what is she thinking? As a third perspective other than audience and performer, I tried to withdraw myself from a subjective view. In the limit of rules and frame, the performer could not leave nor move; everything that the audience did to the performer, she can only sit there and give no response, as if she is trapped and limited. But I thought: Is it trapped? Or is it a nihil frame of self-restraining? I don't know, but what I felt is that she seemed to have a lot of words that could not be spoken out.
When I saw her emotion change while having an audience in the cage, my own emotion seemed to be affected. When she cried, my mood sunk along; and while she smiles, my heart was lifted. At that time, I was occupied with my phone, but I would still look at what's inside the cage unconsciously, maybe I was immersed in the show too.
I think it's about four in the afternoon, the audience waiting at the rooftop went down to see a screening downstairs. It was me, Ashley and another helper that I know named Josh. Josh went in and sat for about five minutes.
I walked in after he got out, I sat down after closing the gate. Putting down the role of helper, being an audience is another kind of feeling. Sitting in front of Ashley, looking at her eyes, the first action that I did is avoid eye contact with her for a second. But I calm myself down and looked at her again. I smiled, without reason but I smiled, and she smiled back. When I pull my hand out, she responded with her hand pulling out, holding together.
A single rusty iron gate, isolating time and space. I saw the audience outside, but my brain removed them temporarily. At that moment, what was left is the dimension where I and her exist. I didn't know why but a hint of thought popped out which I do not want to leave, maybe just stay a little bit longer with this girl in front of me. And thus I hugged her, just a silent, not too tight hug.
After a while, I know I should leave. I stood up, bowed to her and left. When I step out of the gate, something seemed to be released, but at the same time, something went missing. I couldn't tell, I don't see.
It gives me the feeling that a lot of things ends with the last sentence in the previous paragraph: could not tell, do not see. As a beholder, there exists a kind of emotion; but as an audience, there exists another. But it seems the feeling will distort if I continue to speak.
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So that's it. Put the talk to another day.
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