SCREEN SIGNALS V — THE DREAM AND THE MOULD

An open question to Narkis, about artistic freedom, happiness and knowing when not to pursue an answer.

Namasthay | 11 October 2026

Dear Narkis,

There is one question I have been carrying through this extraordinary musical journey. And perhaps it is the only one that still unsettles me.

How come you accepted that the production might have stolen your dream? How come? Was the call so persistent? What crack in the mould did they find?

I ask because your music has always conveyed something precious to me: the determination to remain yourself, even when the world offers you a more convenient version of who you should become.

And I wonder what happens when an artist’s dream encounters the machinery of production.

Where does collaboration end and compromise begin?

When does an opportunity become an obligation?

And how can an artist distinguish a door opening from a mould quietly closing around her?

I don’t know whether any of these concerns describe your actual experience. I have no evidence that anyone stole your dream, or that you surrendered it. These are questions, not accusations.

Perhaps the dream was never stolen.

Perhaps it evolved.

Perhaps what an observer interprets as compromise is, from the artist’s perspective, an entirely free and deliberate choice.

That possibility deserves as much respect as the question itself.

THE FREEDOM TO BE HAPPY

There is something else I want to make perfectly clear.

Your happiness is most welcome.

I am religiously practising, imperfectly and within my own limitations. My faith informs the boundaries I choose to observe, including those governing affection, commitment and respect for another person’s life.

And that means something simple:

I will not pursue you romantically.

Admiration is not a claim.

Artistic resonance is not a promise.

And the beauty of someone’s voice does not make their private life an extension of our imagination.

If there is anything worth protecting here, it is precisely that freedom.

Yours to live.

Mine to create.

And everyone’s to choose their own happiness.

THE QUESTION BEHIND THE QUESTION

Ultimately, perhaps my concern is less about production than about something every independent artist must confront.

How much of ourselves can we negotiate before the dream ceases to be ours?

That is a question I also ask of Namasthay, Lurch Productions and Ajinomatrix.

After 63 albums, I still believe artistic success means very little if achieving it requires abandoning the freedom that made creation worthwhile.

But freedom also includes the right to change one’s mind, choose a different path, or redefine a dream.

And sometimes the most respectful response is to acknowledge that we cannot know another person’s reasons from the outside.

So this remains an open question, not a demand for an explanation.

No answer is owed.

No hidden message is presumed.

And no happiness needs defending.

May your dream remain yours, whatever form you choose to give it.

חג שמח — Chag Sameach.