Ever since I can remember I have always found the colour and texture of skin comforting. The feel of skin was something I really liked and I didn’t have any reason for it, I was a weird child I guess, I wasn’t exactly normal. If you think normal was playing with barbies obsessively then yea I would have been perceived as normal from an outsider’s perspective. I remember obsessing about being this perfect person who had to win everything and had to be the best. In Grammar school I even felt like everything was a competition and it killed me everytime I couldn’t win. Anyways as obsessive as I was I was always fascinated by the texture of skin. I remember wanting to feel the wrinkles in my Grandmother’s face just to feel their texture and how the skin creased. I think when I was younger I was lonely I never made strong friendships and I resorted into making up my friends in the forms of dolls reenacting my days in doll form when I was in Primary school. I still think even today the texture, translucency, colour, tautness, looseness and structure of skin fascinates me. The colour of skin is comforting, It triggers receptors in the brain that makes you feel less alone. I took pictures of my families skin over the summer to further observe the detail within it.