Hands are ordinarily extraordinary. They allow us to do the most mundane tasks, yet manifest things we create in our minds into this world. If our hands and all of their parts could talk, would the thumb be an elitist, thinking itself above all the other digits? Would the pinky have low self-esteem thinking it didn’t have any real purpose? Would the middle finger always be presumed a rebel even if it never stood up alone? And what of our palms? Are they the real unsung heroes because the digits get all the glory, while they hold them all together?
Hands partake in more than we know, more than we acknowledge. They are extensions, manifest-ers of the fibers and contents of our hearts.
The obvious. The unseen. The frivolous. The holy. The forgotten. The misunderstood. The pain. The healing. The repetitive. The once in a lifetime. The mistake. The love. The voice. The symbol. The anger. The yesterday. The tomorrow. The present. The present as in now. The commitment. The broken. The peace. The nourishment. The illusion. The funny.
I want to explore all that #hands do and the story they tell. More to come.
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