So today I embarked on a new discovery into the world of Marina Abramovic, during her 512 hour residency at The Serpentine Gallery, Hyde Park, London. My expectations were high, though I wasn't completely sure what I was about to experience. Having studied her work I knew that it was going to challenge me and others as audience members, with us participating as performer ourselves.

I arrived at The Serpentine with fellow artist Hee Ran at 9.30am. There was already people queuing to enter. The doors opened at 10am. Even though I studied and lived in London for 3 years I had never been to Hyde Park and that just added to the mystery of the experience, venturing where I have not been before.

10am came and the queue had doubled in size. We were given instructions, while we waited, on what to expect and what was expected of us as visitors. Then she appeared. Grabbing both handles of the doors she opened them in one brisk motion. As each member entered we were welcomed by Marina in person, with a "good morning" and handshake. I noticed the ink on her hand, that came from the stamp each of us received on our hands before we entered. I was in complete awe of the woman I had only read about and seen clips, spreading her knowledge and perceptions on Art and life.

I continued into the gallery and quickly popped to the toilet as we were told we could not re-enter when we left, at least, we would have to queue once again. Once the tank was empty, I deposited my belongings into a locker, no phones, watches, devices of any kind were allowed into the performance. I guessed that this was mainly due to Marina not wanting us to be distracted and wanting us to give our whole selves and attention to the task in hand.

We were asked to be quiet and on entering the space were handed headphones, however, these were not electrical, merely used to drown out any sounds. All I could hear was the occasional heal from another audience member and the low humming sound of the air conditioning. Essentially, the headphones made me incredibly aware of the voice inside my head. "What is happening?" "What is this about?" "Why am I doing this?" "Why am I questioning myself?" "Why am I questioning, questioning myself?".

I entered the first room of three to find the majority of people gathered around the edge of this square space, all white with a beautiful round sky light, that if my memory serves me right, was natural light from outside. There was a camera in one corner recording the "happening", something we were made aware of before entering the gallery. In the centre of the room appeared to be performers other than Marina who had walked other audience members, by holding hands, to stand on top of a bronze plinth. They stood side by side, sporadically in the space, holding hands with their eyes closed. I noticed that the other performers, I say others because they weren't credited in any way, weren't initially wearing the headphones. I suddenly realised that although we were given these headphones, no one actually instructed me to wear them. A natural tendency I guess to follow the masses.

After a short while the other performers would leave the audience members standing alone with their eyes closed and they would randomly pick their next subject to join in on the action. Eventually it was my turn, the performer offered me his hand and I accepted it with internal enthusiasm, keeping a professional facial expression of "Of course sweetie darling, I respect and will join in with the art!". He led me towards a space on the plinth, but let go of my hand. He gestured to his face to close my eyes and as I did he rest his hand on my back, between the shoulder blades. I suddenly felt protected by this contact that reminding me of being burped as a baby. 5 minutes must have passed with my eyes closed and the contact on my back when he left me and I was all alone. I wasn't really alone because I knew there were others stood right beside me right? I lasted 2 minutes and I opened my eyes. I wasn't alone, I was however surrounded by others who stood, with their headphones on and eyes shut. Feeling slightly awkward that I now could see, I slowly stepped off the plinth and receded to the edge of the room.

There were two more rooms with entrances either side of the central space so I went to explore. On one side was a room with folding wooden chairs all spaced equally apart pointing towards the windows. You could not look out these windows due to the white blinds that were closed covering them. In the opposite room, of the same size and style, there was nothing. An empty space where the other performers were leading audience members, slowly walking from one end to the other. Their speed reminded me of the works of Butoh. I should mention here that the other performers were distinguished by wearing black clothing and Marina herself wore the same and did nothing different that would single her out as the main performer. I could imagine that those who didn't know who Marina was and hadn't done any research or followed her midnight dairies, would have been none the wiser who she was within this space. The only thing that distinguished her from the others was the fact she was a least twice their senior.

Not wanting to go for a walk quite yet I opted to sit down on a wooden chair. Again people were being escorted to chairs and being instructed to close their eyes. So naturally, I followed suit. I was made aware that I was sitting, as the chair wasn't for lolling, I made myself more comfortable by leaning forward and resting my arms on my legs. A sense of ease came over me as I drifted deep into my own thoughts, nothing in particular, but for a moment I was lost within my space. I became quite conscious again, with that taste in your mouth when you've been snoozing in the middle of the day, I think I might have dosed off to sleep. With no watch or phone I became completely unaware of the time and found myself not really caring too much about finding out.

After a few stretches, I ventured into the other room. There was a camera man, taking photography or possibly filming the slow action of people walking back and fore. I wanted to join in but suddenly felt frustrated that I was joining the crowd. Up until this point I was doing everything that was asked of me. Why? I wanted to rebel, take a stand, so rather than walk with the crowd, I walked briskly from one end to the other. It was so liberating and a relief to get that outburst out of my system. To my own amusement, I noticed that others had saw me and began to copy my actions.

I didn't stay in that room much longer and wanted to simply observe some of what was happening rather than participate, however, I quickly found this to be quite difficult as the others kept offering their hands and instructing me to sit down and keep my eyes closed. I was in a dictatorship! I felt I was not allowed to move freely around the space but then was expected to think freely with my thoughts. My mind and body were in conflict. I longed for human contact, speech, sight, touch, sound and was made more aware of the lack of interaction each time the others would leave me, alone.

Reluctantly wanting to leave I stood for a moment in the doorway of the exit looking back into the space. Again a hand was offered but this time I refused, gesturing with a nod that I was leaving. The performer then gestured to remove my headphones and whispered in my ear "Did you enjoy the exhibition?" My reply, "Yes, I really enjoyed!" We then parted ways with a smile, I exited the gallery, gathered my belongings and began to reflect on my experience. I noticed the time was 12pm, 2 hours had past. 2 of 512 hours shared, for me to treasure.

Marina Abramović: 512 Hours is being shown at The Serpentine Gallery 11 Jun to 25 Aug Tuesday - Sunday 10am - 6pm

You can view this original Blog on my website http://www.joshalantrask.co.uk/Josh_Alan_Trask/Blog/Entries/2014/8/...