I open my eyes and in that instant I build my first memory, the void is no longer absolute. I'm afraid to let go. I'm afraid my body doesn't understand what I want to do. I notice that I have thin, enormous fingers and that since I woke up I have rarely used them. What are worth for?

“I don't know how to move my hands” intends to address the importance of memory. As an assumption that memory is what we are, then much of our essence is memory. The body is memory. Throughout the show we will see the physical reactions of bodies without memory. What happens when we lose it? Perhaps we are more creative without it.

These questions raised by the performers served as the basis for the construction of intimate duets, uncontrolled solos, slow unisons and ancient stories.

In the performers/audience interaction, unexpected moments will appear, on the part of the performers, the result of spontaneous reactions of a body without memory. It is intended that the public feel the real discomfort of something that deviates from the norm.

Why do we use our arms to lift our torso to get out of bed, turn around and put our feet on the floor?

Without memory what am I? Am I even? How do I work? Will I have notions? What do I do?

Is memoryless even a blank page? Is it a foreign body that has no training to support memory?

Forty-five minutes of tension, relief, discomfort, conflict and surprise, some of the sensations that the audience will be able to experience during the play.