Monday, February 8, 2016


Hands have always fascinated me. When I was younger, my grandmother used to let me play with her hands. Her skin, as I remember it was wrinkly, soft, and baggy. Baggy might seem like a strange word to describe skin, but it was. She would play this game with me. She would pinch my skin and it would go right back into place. Then she would let me pinch her skin and it would form little peaks and valleys. Her skin became like clay that I got to play with and create landscapes. Her skin had also become more translucent, you could see the veins, and they become streams of water flowing into the peaks and valleys I was creating in her hands. Her hands would fascinate me for hours as I sat and moved skin around creating ever-changing images.
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