A Fleeting Moment
By Francesca Duong
My eyes scanned the advertisement stuck to the pole as I waited for the crossing signal to turn green. A simplistic, large, brown guitar was imposed against a gradient, green background. The poster merely said “Singer Songwriters” in large English letters with the Korean translation underneath. At the top, the date of the event and “Jeonil Building 245” were clearly stamped. Aside from those details, the poster lacked the answers to the questions I had. Who was performing? Was the event free? Could I go as a simple audience member or was it only for participants? Almost as if a mystery, the poster lingered in my mind for the rest of the week.
When the day came, I made myself downtown and entered the Jeonil Building for the first time, half expecting to be turned away at the entrance. I wandered around, confused, before following the flow of people into the elevator. They pressed the button to the top floor, and slowly, the elevator ascended.
It was like a scene from a television show. When I stepped out of the elevator to the terrace of the Jeonil Building, the sky was a gorgeous, vibrant blue spotted with soft, wispy clouds. The fake, rolled-out grass sparkled in a deep green as people were lying on top in their brightly colored picnic blankets. Plastic chairs were nestled farther back, and the staircase leading to the top platform of the rooftop had comfortable cushions for those who wanted to rest there instead. Aesthetically, it seemed like a perfect television set for a calm rooftop gathering.
The emcee was dressed in a beautiful purple dress as she introduced the singers. When they took the stage, the lights illuminated the performers in a dazzling glow. Each audience member sat there, listening intently, to the messages the songs were conveying. The soothing atmosphere wrapped everyone in a blanket of warmth and tranquility.
It was like a dream. I used to stare at the ceiling of my childhood home and, like any eight-year-old, complain I was bored. I craved something more than our outings to the grocery store. Going to the mall was the closest experience I had had to seeing a space packed with people and filled with electric energy.
When I watched television, I was fascinated by the “big city life” often popularized in shows and movies. Every weekend, there would be events filled with families and fun. Every corner would have new delicious street food to try, and art decorated the sides of buildings. It was as if the cities were a living entity of their own. With each inhale, one could sense the joy and happiness of the community. The exhales brought a sense of warm calm and peace.
When I came to Gwangju, it was the first time I truly felt like I lived in a big city. Gwangju had a little bit of everything – a national park, a bustling downtown shopping area, and a vast variety of restaurants. With events such as the Gwangju Asia Content & Entertainment Fair, Asia Culture Week, and the Busking World Cup, there never seemed to be a shortage of things to do. Each weekend is packed with possibilities for people to enjoy the wonderful city.
It was like having a true sense of belonging. Moving to a new country comes with a few sacrifices, as well as a boosted newfound sense of independence. With language barriers and a completely clean slate, one has to be comfortable with being alone.
Music connects people. It brings community through its melody and touching lyrics. Throughout the performance at the Jeonil Building, people were swaying left and right to the soft ballads being sung. When the performers signaled for the audience to clap their hands or shine their phone flashlights, they obeyed. It felt as if we were in a trance, completely at peace and flowing along to the music.
Additionally, there is something special about live music that cannot be boiled down into one sentence. Maybe it is the pure, unedited rawness or the vocals, or the way that the music flows and entrances the room. Maybe it is the dazzling stage presence of the performer that increases the intimacy of the performance. There is something that makes live music incredibly captivating, soothing, and addictive at the same time.
It was like a feeling of satisfaction. A moment so simple, but so precious that it forever lingers in my memory. It is bittersweet – these moments. Knowing that they are temporary and fleeting, but also trying to live in the present and enjoy life to its fullest.
The Author
As a writer, Francesca Duong strongly believes in the power of narrative as a platform for truth and discussion. She loves lengthy conversations, being involved in the community, and discovering delicious foods.