#25 Improvise: sense of touch, maybe recall some of friend's gestures
I love touching stuff. When I go for a hike, I'm compelled to touch moss, leaves, bark. When I'm with a lover, I'm compelled to touch their skin. I touch door frames as I pass through them. I want to touch the artwork in museums. I like to eat with my fingers.
Improvising with touch was thus unsurpisingly pleasurable. Turning up sense of touch gave me a sense of contentment that lingers now, though now writing this, I have a tinge of regret that I did not indulge even more in the pleasure of this improvisation.