I too love hands. I am moved by a person's eyes, hands and voice.
My maternal side of the family is very matriarchal. I come from a long line of strong, smart, outspoken, persevering women. I noticed when I was a child that the strongest family resemblance we share is our hands. Mine, my mothers, my grandmother's, my great-grandmothersthey all look alike. Age, scars, experience, all spoken in the hands. At my great-grandmother's 99th birthday party the four of us held our hands together and that single moment told a lifetime of stories and connections. I felt closer to them right then than I ever have before.
My hands are chubby, freckled, with delicate pink coloring, and slightly teardrop-shaped despite the blunt, fat fingers. My palms are broad with pronounced fold lines and my thumbs are short. I have dimpled knuckles on the backs. One crooked finger belies a small accident I had in childhood, and the pen callus on my middle finger tells my history as a lifetime writer.
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It's the first thing I look for. Did you check out Toby Maguire's hands in Spiderman? Lovely. I shivered.
Hands have personality, and the ability to convey so much. Tension, weariness, anger, passion.
I remember hands. A lot of my daydreams involve hands. My favorite pictures of dear-ones include their hands.
A couple of years ago I realized my hands are a smaller copy of my fathers' hands. I've felt much closer to him ever since.
I just thought I was strange. :) (Well, I am, but it's nice to know other people share some of my weirdness. *smile*)
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My maternal side of the family is very matriarchal. I come from a long line of strong, smart, outspoken, persevering women. I noticed when I was a child that the strongest family resemblance we share is our hands. Mine, my mothers, my grandmother's, my great-grandmothersthey all look alike. Age, scars, experience, all spoken in the hands. At my great-grandmother's 99th birthday party the four of us held our hands together and that single moment told a lifetime of stories and connections. I felt closer to them right then than I ever have before.
My hands are chubby, freckled, with delicate pink coloring, and slightly teardrop-shaped despite the blunt, fat fingers. My palms are broad with pronounced fold lines and my thumbs are short. I have dimpled knuckles on the backs. One crooked finger belies a small accident I had in childhood, and the pen callus on my middle finger tells my history as a lifetime writer.
I wonder what my hands say to other people?
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And I love touch. And action. Hands are beautiful, wonderful things. Beings.
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