“Axúdame a sentir” (“Help me feel”)… Obdulia, my maternal grandmother, would often say this to me. She was one of the many professors without a degree at this famous university of life. There is nothing more necessary than feeling and there is no better time to pursue that goal than the times in which we live: the humanities are fading while the virtual-machine binomial grows. The arts, in general, historically attended to our need to feel. That place without algorithms is a house that we must visit as many times as possible. Celebrate non-virtuality, hug each other, listen, drink, dance, feel, write, draw, sing, dream…

Our house is a party field and so are the stalls of a theater or the tables of a tavern. What happens at a concert is something unique and unrepeatable: it goes out when the curtain closes, but at the same time it is a flame that lights up and continues to warm our chests for a long time. Sometimes they stay with us for a whole lifetime.