I went on stage for the first time at seven years old, in the performance hall of a place that no longer exists: Le Grand Hôtel du Markstein in the Vosges.
The children's entertainer didn't speak to us like children: we were going to "rehearse" with him. He took us seriously, he “counted on us”, he explained to us “how the show was going to go”. He then asked me to play someone who “rolled mechanics”. At the time, I didn't know what that meant, in any case, this expression: "rolling mechanics" always stuck with me.
The afternoon of the show, I was hidden behind the curtains, I learned that they said "backstage", then at the director's signal, I got on the stage and then rolled my shoulders and arms around the other children. There was silence, then I heard the audience laughing. I didn't look at him, I felt hot then suddenly very cold, I felt a strange, inexplicable, indomitable shiver, a pleasure mixed with shame, a soothing and powerful jolt.

I think that all my life I have sought to rediscover this beneficial feeling, since I have made it my job for over 20 years.