my hands look old.
Pippa asked me why my hands look so old…
One could argue that I should have taken George Constanza’s lead and preserved my hands while I could. One of the earliest compliments I ever received was in regards to my lithe hands. They were once elegant with long fingers and and a delicate bone structure. Even my nails have always been strong whether I manicured them or not. A pianist hands! I am afraid they never excelled in that area - if they had maybe my hands would still be elegant…
Instead, I have used them immensely.
I have baked, cooked, sewn, sanded, painted, knitted, scrubbed, and polished the life right out of them.
Now I see my mothers hands in mine and how I LOVED my mothers hands as a child. They always smelled of onions and bleach.
Most of all, they could do ANYTHING. Really, my mom is a genius and can figure a way to contrive anything into being with virtually nothing at her disposal. She made our childhood and home the most comfiest, yummiest, creative place imaginable - all with scraps. Once, she made us thick, warm Care Bear quilts that were the envy of anyone who saw them - all from fabrics gathered from the throw away bin at my father’s workplace.
Lately, my hands have begun to tell a different story that still needs sorting. My knuckles have gnarly bumps, like a proper, animated witch. They seize and can be so very tender. I have begun to hide them away so others will not be disturbed by them. It is a strange thing watching your body morph into something you do not recognize. It gives me pause and fills me with so much appreciation for all that they have experienced - they have had a VERY FULL LIFE and hopefully have many more years of making.
Below is a picture from 2023 and you can just barely see the knuckles are beginning to redden and bulge on my left hand. I have NO doubt that I softened them in Lightroom at the time. When I see this picture, I vividly remember that very moment. I was applying to the Etsy design awards and I did not have a ‘studio’ picture… we had moved in the renovation months earlier and I mostly worked on the kitchen table and everything was shambles, covered with renovation dust. So I contrived an ‘office’ in the middle of the living room. In editing, I removed the cracks from the wall behind me and kept the frame tight to hide the debris. I kinda wish I had taken a wide shot to show all the furniture scattered, the subfloors exposed and tools forever laying about. In the same breath…. I don’t really want to remember it at all…
The picture may not tell the whole story, but my hands do. There are still no answers, but I am learning to hide them less and just love deeply what they have done for me.
