The Burning Question: Adrian Howells

The worst thing about my piece is not, contrary to popular perception, people's stinky, sweaty, bunioned, verrucaed, Nightmare-Off-Princes-Street feet, but the blisters that form on my hands from too much washing, rubbing and drying! Heavens to mother Betsy, I'm like some latter day medieval martyr – except, unlike St Angela of Foligno in the 13th century, who devoutly washed the feet of lepers, I'm not prepared to drink the puss and scab-ridden dirty water after, as a way of getting closer to God. I'd rather suck the rotting toes of Cardinal Winning.

Without a doubt, the best thing about my piece is the often deep and intimate connection that is forged between myself and the audience-participant – all within the space of 30 minutes, and both of us remaining fully clothed. Somebody once described my one-to-one performances as "an accelerated friendship/relationship between two initial strangers." The other simple but impactful thing which happens is a strong sense of investing in the self. It sounds very hippy and Buffy Saint Marie, perhaps, but how often do we genuinely take time out of our hectic, stressful lives and indulge in some qualitative sole soothing?