What is a person? We all are fragments, sketches. To tell our entire selves, to become identities, we have to tell about “We”, “the others”, “me”. Bonded. We are bonded to friends, relatives, objects, humans or non-humans. Stricken and smitten. We are stricken with fears, smitten with desires, passions, obsessions and cravings. In contact. To take and be taken. Mutual holds over one another. In unsteady contacts. We are in contact with landscapes, environments, spaces, relationships and materials. Ordeals. We go through ordeals, positive and/or tough ones, we provide evidence, we want to acknowledge others and be acknowledged, to see and show. We experiment. We experiment on others, on ourselves, on ourselves as others. We experience feelings. Though overwhelmed with all these bonds, contacts and holds, we have to keep standing upright. But how can we manage to do so? There are, supposedly, many different ways of conceptualising the person, of being one as well, of becoming the person we really are, just as there are different ways of falling down. So, once upon a time, there was a person, once upon a singular time, there was a person, there was singularity. Once upon a time, there was a look, a story, a life. For, trying to stand on one’s two feet, doesn’t that make a story? Telling a story. Accounting for oneself. Making up one’s identity. Telling about this identity. Saying and thinking of a narrative identity that would be consistent, tolerable and viable. Showing and testing the ability to tell one’s story. Being able to tell about unity. For oneself and others. In Le Triptyque de la personne, the protagonists have agreed to tell about themselves, to disseminate and fragment, to be experts at telling their own stories, to make oral literature and to account for the games of their experiences.