Festivals serve up more than bands, martinis in mugs and craft beers in custom-designed bottles, so in the spirit of risk-taking and surrender, I decided to submit myself to an ‘artistic experience’ in a silent hair salon at last year's Mona Foma festival . But to what was I surrendering? And why? The Terhairium offered an indulgent immersion, leaving the customer at the hands of the silent hair stylist in a foliage-filled caravan. There would be no speaking and no mirrors. Limited stipulations could be given in writing before the appointment, the example given being: ‘no shorter than the jawline’. I wrote: ’no fringe please’, then, a bit more insistent: ‘no more than a trim, really’, and finished with a somewhat more desperate plea: ‘I don’t like hair around my face!’ The Terhairium. Image supplied by Chelsea de Main But I began to wonder: what could happen to me, while I’m in there, voiceless, in the stylist’s hands? I liked my shaggy, sea-stained locks, the twiste