I went to the Anni Albers exhibition at Tate Modern this week and, as well as being struck by the beauty of her weaving, I was arrested by how much I wanted to touch it.
All progress, so it seems, is coupled to regression elsewhere. We have advanced in general, for instance, in regard to verbal articulation - the reading and writing public of today is enormous. But we have grown certainly increasingly insensitive to our perception of touch - the tactile sense.
Owning a dog is to constantly be reminded of the benefits of touch. Stroking him is soothing and strengthens our bond. Playing with him, with his toys, on the ground shows what the world looks and feels like from his level. Other dogs will respond to me by my approach, my smell, and then the form of my touch.
The march of haptic technology is bound with questions around ‘replicating’ the human experience rather than creating a version in its own right. How frequently do we overcomplicate things to create what we already know?