Before heading to the Shepparton Festival, I felt no excitement. I had never thought of art as a passion of mine, and I struggled to comprehend how I would last three weeks writing about something that would leave no lasting effect. I had become worried that my disinterest in art would shine through in my writing, causing me to produce only a lacklustre piece. I spent hours flipping through the guide, going back and forth between activities in hopes that something would eventually catch my eye and excite me. I couldn't allow myself to crumble at the first hurdle. Then, I saw it. The slam poetry workshop. And finally, I had found something that could possibly save me from the inner pessimist, and quench my thirst for anything in the world of literature.
However, I needed to stop myself. There was no time to pick and choose my favourite(s) before the festival had even begun! As a representative of WiA (Writers in Action), I would instead need to view the Shepparton Festival through a journalistic eye, to remain optimistic, and participate without any bias. If I could do this, I would allow myself to see the festival from all perspectives, peeling away the layers of the festival until I truly grasped what it meant; surely a festival built up over twenty-one years would have a greater meaning hidden away, and I would be the one to discover it.
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