08.06.2023 Vienna "Handwriting.Diary."
Channel: Sainkho Namtchylak
Date: 08/06/2023

SAINKHO LIVE video 
08.06.2023 "Handwriting.Diary" 
Today is a quiet day. I'm in Berlin, May 26 is an important holiday. If the Irish celebrate one day of the year, when everyone sings, dances and drinks until they drop, then here, on the contrary, everything is quiet to the point of impossibility and silence puts pressure on the chest. A hidden sense of jubilation presses on the chest that for 2022 times comes on this day-holiday of ascension according to the Christian calendar, Ascension Day, Christi Himmelfahrt. Feast of the Ascension according to the Christian calendar. It is very difficult to say whether these 2022 times were so quiet and hidden. The events, recent weeks and years of the pandemic have left their mark and made their adjustments to this ancient calendar of holidays. I learn and rejoice quietly, remotely, thanks to everything around another morning presented to us, that the nuclear conflict is pushed back and I am still intact and that my desire to sing keeping me. Our concert was great yesterday, I was drunk with being in demand and from the opportunity to share with everyone who came to Berghine to enjoy new show. I was drunk with wine, attention and friendship. Now evening is over, the ramps went out and I lay down in the bed of my visions and dreams, somewhere in bustling Berlin, briefly once again realizing: "Yes,you are!" And fell asleep in the deaf-mute night of doubts. Yes, it's me, yes, this body is me, these thoughts or meaninglessness of words and doubts, it's also me. So what is it ? Where my "I" begins and where is the trait behind which there is a miracle or loneliness of disappointment. Who am I and why its given so much to me to realise or just run away from awareness into the hustle and bustle of daily life, where is a common flow of thoughts and desires, similar to all people, a simple and complex flow of thoughts-awareness. The emptiness without dreams interrupted my reasoning to remind me that it was already 7:30 in the morning to return to the usual noise and bustle of waiting around. But the question of who I am remained, shadeing the joyful clarity of the white day in the clouds and this light rain leaving nettles on the wooden shops in the courtyard of the hotel. Well, that's it. Hello morning, I greet you in my naive imperfection. I look at these nettles from the rain. Milky sky, morning and me. Let it be so! We live imperfect wars of confrontations and pandemic facts in this world. Let it be so. Tomorrow on the road, but for now it's a bubbling and jubilant day in Berlin and everyone is alive, even this spiritual, deep silence in me... 
   A week after. Well, I returned to my book "Handwriting of Life", where I do test of my pen and at the sane time continue the statement of the flow of my thoughts evenly outlined in the text written by hand and pencil. I read the previous pages and was satisfied, but now I don't know how to finish and start a new story. Only a week has passed since the Berlin concert, I spent three busy days in Basel, held a master class and a solo concert at the Cargo Bar under the bridge over the great Rhine River, made many new friends and met old, long-forgotten idols from the last century, remembered looking at the powerful tranquility of the Rhine River my first performances in Switzerland 30 years ago.
I remembered my departed friends, remembered their voices, remembered my desperate desire to know the chapels of myself and my voice, remembered my desire to conquer the whole world of sounds. This evening at the Cargo Bar, I was again that inexplicable mystery that fell out of the depths of the forgotten myths of Siberia, that fabulous bird from nowhere, miraculously squatted briefly on the edges of the stool to sound shortly and in a moment again fly to nowhere. Friends from the distant past, gone or still alive, seem to have been waiting all these years to once again, perhaps in the last, to taste this stream of sound, this summer evening and a familiar but already forgotten voice from distant Tuva, sonorous and deep and very different. Such solo performances are not so frequent and when it turns out, I am overwhelmed with the joy of free improvisation of the naked cry of the soul, recognition of the integrity of everything and everything, recognition of the openness of forms, their eternal variability in the endless possibility of combining elements of a live flow of musical thought here and now. I don't know how much more I have allotted, but I sincerely believe that my music will stay with people forever. That's why that evening I sang for everyone, trying to leave a deep mark on their memory. Nobody really knows what will happen tomorrow and that's why you want to give all of yourself to stay in the minds of listeners, to imprint yourself in every soul, thereby reminding us that we are part of a single stream of sounds from the first moment of the birth of the universe to this hour and even a lot of time after.