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 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 the 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.
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.
