Like a gentle breeze, a field of warmth approaches and soft waves move up to my arms, sprinkling them like spray – coming closer, they turn out to be induced by the energy of palms. Blindfolded as I am, here in a shop gallery at the centre of Athens, I do not know exactly how many hands are around and I don’t try to figure things out too much but move through the sensations from human and material bodies affecting the sense(s) of my skin, following a dramaturgy that feels very much felt, inviting me to interact with them, proposing directions, taking over part of my control. They care, they wash, they challenge my trust, my decisions, we caress, we dance, we hug – maybe it’s a real hug, maybe a theatre hug, I’m confused, but I decide that the hug I give is real, whatever that means. I could go on to listen and respond, and since the stories we tell to our skin have just begun, I think in the future I will. Remembering the gentle beginnings.